There exists no culture in which adultery is unfamiliar and with no reason. Marriage and love were merely an illusion, especially to Alette Yolande, the young wife of a noble French diplomat. Fortunately for her, a certain someone is willing to set...
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the conclusion: penance
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VICTOIRE DIDN'T KNOW how to feel. Not about his wife having an affair behind his back or the possibility of his wife actually sleeping with his illegitimate son.
The news had struck him as if a thousand lightning bolts were raining upon the Earth. The immoral relationship, which seemed so long ago, with one of his maids was Victoire's biggest regret.
If it weren't for his letters from the child's mother that were unopened until yesterday, then he wouldn't have ever known who his advisor really is. Victoire was flaming with anger, having to find out from maids about situations going on in his life.
He felt emasculated for not having any control of his life. Starting from the woman he called a "wife" and his child who was ten years younger than her. Once he heard from Winifred two days ago about the affair, he set out to find Etienne, only to find him gone and on his way to Victoire's mansion in the countryside. Victoire set out a few hours later, knowing that when he reaches home, it will be early morning.
The trip had gone by quickly when Victoire reached his Champlatreaux designed mansion. Victoire was still in awe of his planned home. He marveled at the foyer which opens up to dual grand stairways that is breathtaking. And those very stairs led him to his wife's chambers.
He feared that Alette had left him without letting him explain anything, but he knew that the only thing hurt was his pride. Not his heart. His heart became broken years ago by a woman who he genuinely cared for. A woman who had given him his only heir.
He must speak to Etienne. Victoire stormed up the stairs with a purpose in his step. He didn't bother knocking when he burst into his wife's room. The once pale blue interior was now splattered with blood on the walls and on the Persian carpet, he remembers her choosing so happily.
There he noticed his wife. Laying on the carpeted floor with blood pooling near her head, Victoire dropped to the floor.
"No," he cried, pulling her limp head onto his lap. He brushed her hair out of her eyes and tried to check for a pulse, her neck slashed and sliced as if she were an animal. He could see the faint bruises on her neck as well, showing signs of fighting back. "Alette," he called her name again, shaking her body to gauge any response from her. The room was deadly silent until it finally dawned on him that his wife has passed away.
"Her last words were 'tell Victoire I'm sorry'. How preposterous!" A voice so familiar whistled behind him.
Victoire gently set Alette down and turned to face the murderer. "I'll have you hanged for this," he said through gritted teeth.
"Not if I can do anything about it Father." Etienne spat out.
With that, Victoire's demeanor completely changed. His previous anger had turned into sadness. With the lingering feeling of possible death looming over him, Victoire tried to think of a plan. "I am sorry about Genevieve," Victoire chose his words carefully. "I wasn't aware that she died." Seeing Etienne flinch, Victoire couldn't help but think that whatever he said wasn't so carefully thought out at all.
"I am surprised you remember her name." Etienne glanced over at Alette's limp body. "Did you know that I convinced her to almost poison you?"
The question threw Victoire off. Not being able to reply, he stood mute waiting for Etienne to say something. "As you can see she wasn't able to properly execute her plan. I got a bit selfish and decided I want to give it to you myself."
"You do not have to do this my son," Victoire's mouth had an odd taste as he uttered those words.
"I am not your son!" Etienne boomed, suddenly charging at him. He grabbed Victoire's collar and pushed him up against the wall. Etienne's chokehold was strong and to the point where Victoire had trouble breathing. Only short gasps coming out from his mouth.
Etienne fished through his pockets and pulled out a bottle. The small bottle was filled with clear liquid, but in the morning light, small specks of black could be seen. "Drink," he grunted, tightening his grip around his neck.
Victoire struggled to free himself, but he knew that his son would only end up killing him as well without the poison. "Etienne," he coughed. "I am sorry for not being there for you. It must have been hard, right? Growing up with only Genevieve by your side."
"You have no right to say her name," Etienne growled. "Now drink or else I will find another gruesome way for you to perish. I will make sure that your body rots and you choke on your own blood."
"I promise!" Victoire shouted truly hoping that whatever he says convinces his son to not kill him. "I promise that we can be able to start a new life. You and I. We can be a family Etienne; a family you have always wanted. I know that I am at fault for all of this, but please give me a chance."
"I don't want a family. Mother is gone because of you, I have no purpose to let you live."
"Think about what your mother would've wanted," Victoire whispered, barely breathing. "She would've wanted us to support one another and love each other."
"Would she?" Etienne's tone of voice drastically changed, his hand loosening around Victoire's throat. That was when Victoire really saw his son. His pale blue eyes, and the way his hair resembled Genevieve's.
"Yes she would," Victoire was finally able to breathe again when Etienne let him go. He coughed and fell to the floor, clutching at his throat. "Give me the poison Etienne."
"What are you going to do with it?" Etienne asked, somewhat suspicious.
"I will throw it away and hope to God you won't poison me." Victoire chuckled.
"Don't worry Father," finally saying the words in a tone Victoire had been hoping to hear once he realized his relation to Etienne.
"Now let me go and give this to the maid. I'll also tell her to pour us some wine. In the meantime, take care of Alette's body."
Victoire left the room and saw Winifred, who was pale as a ghost and waved her over. "Get rid of this and make good use of it." His eyes indicating everything the maid had to know. She returned with a pitcher of wine and two cups. Victoire took it from her and went into the foyer where Etienne was sitting on a chair.
"Here you go," Victoire placed the pitcher and poured them both a glass, raising it when he sat down across from him. "To a new beginning," Etienne repeated after him, drinking the entire glass. Victoire watched with interest pretending to take a sip.
As Etienne was about to comment on his father not drinking, he burst into a fit of coughs. Heaving and doubling over, Victoire watched his son slowly die in front of him. Victoire made sure to not mask his satisfaction at the sight.
"I should have known that you were lying," Etienne had tears in his eyes. Each lurch made him stagger onto the floor. Curling up to stop the coughs, Etienne drew one last breath before he went limp.
"Notify the capital that both my wife and advisor were murdered." Victoire sensed Winifred's presence behind him. Knowing that she wouldn't question his authority, he was confident that she won't utter a word about what happened.
Taking one last look at his son, Victoire left the mansion and sat on the veranda where his wife used to knit. He was now truly alone.
