The Liberty of This

1: I Choose Freedom

It took a bit of work to pick up Juliet and transfer her from the ground to the bed, but Marielle managed. She nursed her maid back to health, as ironic as it was, with the same rag that had held the now melted ice.

She took this time to think over some things in her life. Her father, who was unsupportive and seemingly unfeeling as of late, was sending her off to an institution that could change even the most ill mannered women how to act of high class. He was also encouraging the courtship of his daughter to a young and rich man by the name of Albert Anjou, or more often known as the Duke de Anjou. He was quite the man that one, all wild and reckless but charming - so easily able to pull anyone under his spell. Marielle had not taken any interest in his formal looks, and that was why he had taken such an interest in her.

The longer she thought, the more she wanted to leave, to claim her destined role in society. Not as a lady, but as a musician. She was sure that was what her calling was; under the dim candlelight at night when she stole away and found solace in sheets of music, Marielle was sure her destiny was to play the violin as her mother had, to compose as she'd wished to. Often she had practiced when she was younger, but now she did it in secrecy, and she didn't want to have to hide her passion anymore.

Marielle was unaware how long Juliet was unconscious, and therefore how long she was trapped in her mind. But when her young maid's eyes fluttered open, she surfaced from her thoughts and smiled down ironically at her. "Nice rest, Juliet?"

Juliet took a moment to collect herself, then as if she'd just remembered some huge feat, shot up in bed and grabbed Marielle by her shoulders. "My lady, you can't do what I think you're going to do!"

"It's a good thing that you can't change my mind then, I've already made my decision."

There was a heavy silence between them as Juliet surveyed Marielle, looking deep into her eyes as if to confirm that they'd made their decision. The servant girl could see it, could see the strong willed woman that would stick to a decision if she'd made up her mind, and Marielle had.

Juliet sighed heavily, "And what if your father catches you? How are you even going to carry out this most likely preposterous plan of yours?"

"That's where you come in, Juliet." At the mention of herself, Marielle's maid paled further, eyes widening into saucers. "I want you to take my place at the academy while I pursue my dream." Juliet went to cut her off, but Marielle raised her hand, determined to have her plan heard before there were any objections. "You can read and you can write, maybe not as proficiently as expected, but well enough. You always speak of how you long for a better education, and it's not secret I have no desire to pursue what my father wishes for me."

"And what of holidays? What if your father sends letters, or worse—visits? Oh, what of the Duke?!"

"I have a solution for all of them: for holidays you will write me and I will come, in letters you shall respond as me, and should he decide to visit make yourself scarce somehow. Be creative: horribly sick, or whatnot. And don't mind the Duke, send all his letters to me so they take even longer to respond to."

"What if your father visits a lot? He will begin to notice if I am constantly sick! That's not even including the persistence of the Duke!"

"Pray then he doesn't visit often. Anyways, I should think he would only keep tabs on my actions through the headmaster, if anything. Speaking of which, don't be too good. I know you're not the troublesome type but if you're going to be me mischief should always ensue. Again about the Duke though: don't fret, just continue to push him away. Surely the multitude of other women will be a distraction."

Juliet shook her head, eyes closed at she stared at the floor. Marielle showed no sign of emotion, she had begun to veil it well already.

"If I may be so bold, my lady. This is the idiotic, absolutely unfounded thing you've ever thought to do."

"And you will help me?"

She sighed, "I fear I have little other choice."

Laughing in a thinly veiled manner of relief, Marielle spoke. "Oh, don't be so glum, Juliette. This is the opportunity of a lifetime." Then, "And don't ask to be bold from here on out, it's not very much like me."

<~>

The bruising sky faded into a distant yellow over the horizon, and on the sixth strike of the Grandfather clock in the hall, the carriage departed. A mile behind so would the horse that carried Marielle, as Juliet faced the fate the only daughter of a profound Aristocrat had been sentenced.

Marielle had not thought to turn back even in her guilt of turning Juliet into a decoy, but she was sure her friend and maid would do the job nicely, if not better. In the moments that the wind had first whipped at her cloak and hair, she truly tasted freedom. She thought of everything she longed for and felt the world stretching to be at her fingertips, and suddenly she wished to play a tune on her violin, but there were other matters to attend to first.

Clothing was the simplest of the issues, as was an alternate identity that was plausible. Money would be no problem for three months if preserved well, and though she could always ask for more funds from Juliet, Marielle knew a sustainable work would better suit her than begging.

The Opera Populaire was a two days ride out, and she slept only for a small slice of time in the night before setting out. Chester, her mare named so by the color of his coat, hardly appeared tired even into the final hour of journeying. Thankfully the rain had decided to hold out as the city bled into view.

Tall buildings rose from the landscape, and, sensing his master's excitement, Chester began to trek faster until the outskirts of the city were underfoot. People bustled hurriedly, also sensing the incoming rain as the did about their daily chores, hardly noticing Marielle at all. She'd only been to Paris twice, and the sight from a carriage was far more reserved than this.

Now every gritty detail of life was on display, a horrifying sight indeed but also holding some hope for a clean slate. This was the beginning of something great and new.

Those thoughts in mind, Marielle ordered Chester over to a near market and tied him up to the racks, paying for a generous amount of water and hay before beginning to scavenge. She had thought this through slightly, but the details had hardly surpassed useful. Only intuition guided her now, through the racks of commoner clothing that she would come to call her own.

"Sir, is there anything I can help you with?"

Whipping around, the hood about her face falling, Marielle revealed herself to the man in charge who quickly blushed. "Apologies, miss, I didn't mean to offend you."

"Oh it's no problem." She began, a smirk curving at her lips, "In fact, I'm here in place of my brother."

He bowed, mustache twitching. "Of course! I shall help in anyway I can. Do you know his measurements?"

"I do. That's why he sent me, actually. We're twins, and we share many things: body type being one. I would not be surprised if we were the exact same."

// Been a while, hasn't it? Well, anyways—I don't know when I'll update next, but I had some muse so here I am! Hope you enjoyed :)