Born into the lap of luxury and a time of turmoil, Duchesse Eleonore Vigneron experiences her coming of age in the Court of Louis XVI . Embroiled in the chaos that surrounds Versailles, Eleni uses her unique blend of wit, charm, and beauty to ensure...
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"All those who try to unveil the mysteries always have tragic lives. At the end they are always punished." -- Anais Nin
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Not saying a word since seeing the body of Victor Zenkova, Azzie Parker continues to walk hand-in-hand with Mr. Grimm. Today, the walk doesn't just seem like hours. Hours actually pass as the pair stroll through the park in silence, stopping at the gates of the cemetery. Azzie places her small hand upon the black wrought-iron that keeps the world from disturbing the dead. There are so many stories, so many legends, so many voices that call from the Parish cemetery. It would take a person a lifetime to tell every story worth hearing.
A sudden beam of sunshine falls over the Parish. Azzie gives the small sliver of sun a bright smile. She is usually the only one awake to notice the small strands of light that part the clouds each day, always at dawn and twilight, when such things are hardly noticeable. Today, one was bold enough to light up the afternoon sky. Azzie's head tilts up to the sky, almost in admiration. That one ray of sunshine was bold enough to defy all the rules of the grey clouds.
Within the silent beauty, the echoes of gunfire shake the small slice of world that is Aubrey Parish to the core. When the shots ring out, Azzie tightens her arms against both the gate and Mr. Grimm's arm. It isn't a gesture of fear so much as one of protectiveness.
"The River Of Souls does not want him." Azzie's voice is sad and plaintive as she speaks to the mute Mr. Grimm, who does not seem to have any feelings on the matter. "It must be very lonely, being so unwanted."
Azzie is silent for a moment, thinking quietly and also waiting to see if the aftershocks of gunfire have drifted away. "Sometimes, Mr. Grimm, people make important mistakes. The biggest mistake of all is thinking that things are what they seem to be."
The redheaded girl reaches down to pick a dandelion that is little but an ephemeral sort of fuzz and collection of seeds. "Once these are missing their yellow, they are lucky. Did you know that, Mr. Grimm? You get to make a wish. On the count of three! One--two---"
Before Azzie can announce "three", the fuzz and dandelion seeds scatter everywhere, a few even landing in Mr.Grimm's hair. Azzie is an instrumental part of making sure dandelion season in Aubrey Parish is booming ten months out of every year. She just laughs, watching as the seeds and her unspoken wish go flying through the air.
