Victoire
The carriage ride back to the Montreuil estate felt longer than it should have. The clopping of the horses' hooves echoed in the air, yet it did little to drown out the heavy thoughts swirling in my mind. Gabriel's laughter had been a fleeting respite from the constant barrage of expectations that I faced every day. But as the gates to our family's mansion came into view, I couldn't help but feel the familiar weight settle back into my chest.
"Victoire, you're home early."
My mother's voice greeted me as I stepped into the drawing room. She was seated near the grand window, the light falling softly over her delicate features. But her expression was as cold as always, like the rest of our home.
I forced a smile. "I thought I'd give Gabriel and Élisabeth a bit of fresh air before we return to the monotony."
She didn't respond immediately, her gaze flicking over me in a way that felt too calculating. "How lovely. I trust you didn't waste time being… distracted by the wrong sort of people?"
Her words were a thinly veiled accusation, one I'd become accustomed to.
"No, Maman, I stayed with my siblings," I replied, keeping my voice steady despite the rising irritation within me.
My mother's eyes narrowed slightly. "Good. You do know the ball is soon. You must be prepared. We have been in correspondence with several gentlemen. The Duc de Valmont is eager to meet you. I expect you to make a good impression."
The Duc de Valmont. Of course. Another suitor to add to the pile.
It wasn't that I didn't appreciate the importance of a good marriage—it was essential for the family's future. But each man who came to court me felt like a chain wrapped around my heart, pulling me away from the life I wanted. I was not a pawn to be moved on some chessboard of society. But I couldn't argue with her. Not with her.
"I will do what is expected, Maman," I said quietly, knowing there was no room for anything else.
Her lips curled into a thin smile, satisfied with my response. "Good. I trust you'll remember your place, Victoire."
I nodded, my heart sinking. My place. As a dutiful daughter, bound by family ties, expected to marry well and uphold the reputation of the Montreuil name. But there was more I desired than a marriage of convenience, more I needed than just the title and the security it brought. I dreamed of freedom, of a life where I could choose my own path. But I had long ago resigned myself to the fact that such dreams were unattainable.
After all, what choice did I have?
Étienne
The moment I stepped inside the Rochefort mansion, I was greeted with the familiar, chaotic energy of my younger siblings. Jean-Luc had taken it upon himself to start an impromptu sword fight with Olivier, my younger brother, while Margot was perched on the arm of the settee, talking my mother's ear off about her newfound "friend" in the park—Victoire.
"You're home late, Étienne," my mother said, her voice as cool as the marble floors beneath my boots. She glanced up from her book, her sharp eyes taking in my every movement.
I nodded. "I had an unexpected meeting."
I didn't feel the need to elaborate. The last thing I needed was another lecture about my responsibilities—or the lack thereof.
"Did you make the rounds with the socialites, dear?" she asked, her voice casual but underlined with a sharpness that hinted she wasn't satisfied with my answer.
I gave her a half-smile, one I'd perfected over the years. "I've had enough of the circles for one day, Maman."
Her eyes narrowed. "You're not too weary to meet the Duc de Valmont, I hope? We've been in correspondence with him. It's high time you consider a suitable match."
The Duc de Valmont. Another option. Another expectation to appease.
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "I've heard of him. But I'm not sure I see the appeal."
"His title alone is enough," she said, her voice hardening. "You would be well advised to look at the practicalities, Étienne, rather than indulging in your… wanderings."
I bristled at the word. "I don't need a lecture, Maman. I am aware of my obligations."
She stood, her elegant figure framed by the tall windows of the drawing room. "You may be aware, but you don't seem to care. I've arranged enough connections for you, yet you persist in acting like a rogue. Your future depends on what you do now."
I clenched my fists at my sides, the words stinging more than I cared to admit. "You make it sound so simple. As though a marriage, a title, could solve everything."
Her gaze sharpened. "It is simple. You need a wife with good breeding and a family to support you. And yet, you squander your time at the park with—"
"Victoire?" I finished for her, the name slipping from my lips before I could stop it.
She froze. "What are you saying?"
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Nothing. Just that I ran into her. She's... lovely. Her family will be useful to ours in the future."
A flicker of something—perhaps disappointment, or maybe even bitterness—passed over my mother's face. "You know exactly what I mean. You must do your duty. You're not the youngest anymore, Étienne. We can't afford your distractions."
I let the silence hang between us for a moment, the weight of her words settling over me. There it was again—the pressure. The chains of duty. But unlike my mother, I wasn't so willing to bow to them.
"I know my duty, Maman. But that doesn't mean I have to embrace it the way you want me to."
Her eyes softened, though the steel remained in her gaze. "You'll come to see reason. You always do. And when you do, the rest of the family will be grateful."
I shook my head, turning away before I said something I would regret. As I exited the room, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being suffocated, held prisoner by the very blood that flowed through my veins.
But there was one thing I knew: my mother would never understand. No one would.