Page 4 of Only You

He didn’t want to be seen , Damien decided right then. His statement alone showed that he was clever, too clever to be seen as a shiny object of the French upper crust. They may have been a hundred years past the days of the guillotine, but some were still fond of the thought.

He was also sure Kwame knew of his orphan roots and put him firmly in his place with that one statement. Kwame was someone to know while Damien would never be. It was a fact and a warning.

‘So, you need protection,’ Damien said, ignoring the slight.

‘Not quite.’ He hesitated, before intertwining his fingers.

‘As I mentioned earlier, I have a daughter who is quite rambunctious, but like all women, must get married. Now, while there are plenty who want her hand back home, I am well aware that my countrymen don’t see the exchange as an opportunity as I have and may see her as an opportunity to seek revenge on me.

Luckily, there have also been some requests here that have piqued my interest, but I have my concerns.

‘Let’s not feign ignorance, gentlemen. There will be plenty of people who will embrace her for her wealth while shunning her for her African roots.

Now, while she can be trained to be a proper French lady, I have a feeling it would help tremendously if she were to be surrounded by the right company and I need both of you for that to happen. ’

‘I agree,’ Roulet said, eyes darkening. ‘You need not worry. I will keep her under my care, and Damien will help ensure she is not taken advantage of.’

Damien clenched his jaw to hold back his immediate refusal.

He had assumed he would help with assembling a team, helping the man’s soldiers adjust to the French system, perhaps even provide some training.

Instead, he was being demoted to a guard .

No, a glorified chaperone! For a landowner’s daughter, no less.

Yet, he couldn’t say no right after Roulet’s agreement.

At least, not yet.

‘Thank you, my friend. And I hope you understand, Captain Damien, this is a different battle than you are used to,’ Kwame continued.

‘You must always practise discretion and vigilance. While not technically royalty, she will be the target of many, some more surprising than others. Should you make a mistake, she will pay the price. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ Damien reluctantly answered. ‘I… promise to protect her.’

Kwame smirked. ‘Good. Now, we just have to tell her.’

Damien let himself fall a few steps behind the two.

He didn’t want Kwame to see even a hint of his anger.

All his preparation, the years of literal sweat and blood, all thrown down the drain.

He could already feel his skills withering away as Kwame led them into the expansive garden behind the house.

She’s probably sewing or picking flowers.

However, he heard the familiar sound of metal clashing, instead. The whistle of the air being cut, and feet shifting among the dirt. It sounded as if someone were… fighting?

Sure enough, as they rounded the corner, he saw a young woman holding a foil, sparring with one of her father’s soldiers.

Only she wore proper protective clothing while the man looked as if he rolled out of bed, his tunic rumpled and smudged with dirt.

The two moved around the garden, the girl was surprisingly agile, her fencing skirt allowing her to move fluidly.

He watched her parry with calculating eyes.

She had good speed and instincts, but her balance needed improvement.

She tended to lean forward, and hunched her shoulders in defence, causing her to sway between moves.

She had a good foundation but for the more complicated manoeuvres, she seemed unsure, hesitant.

Nothing a couple of adjustments and more practice couldn’t change. Perhaps she should…

‘Keep your back straight,’ he called out.

The girl narrowly dodged the soldier’s lunge before stepping back and pulling off her mask. Her curly hair spilling over her shoulder and her cheeks two red spots from exertion, she looked at Damien.

A shot of electricity ran through him as their eyes met.

She was beautiful, something he expected.

She was not as statuesque as her father, although her hazel eyes were just as demanding, hints of muscle showing along her arms, her brown skin unblemished, and lips enviably full. Pretty girl , he thought.

He crossed his arms as the girl let her foil rest at her side, an eyebrow quirked. ‘Pardon?’

‘Your centre is too low. Great for defence but leaves you too slow to respond.’

Sabine’s lips pursed as she looked Damien up and down.

He raised a brow, and she stood taller under his gaze, undaunted.

Something about the expression made it hard for him to hold back a smile.

He could imagine her as a soldier, charging towards him on the first day of training. She already had the sword.

‘He’s right,’ the soldier behind her said. She didn’t spare him a glance, simply nodding as she kept her eyes on Damien. ‘Is this a new teacher, Father?’

‘Of sorts.’

‘Well, that’s not foreboding at all.’ She dropped her sword and smiled before joining them, hugging Kwame around his waist. ‘Good afternoon,’ she greeted.

Kwame softened and gathered her in a warm embrace. ‘Afternoon, Sabine,’ he said, placing an arm around her shoulders.

Damien frowned at the display, not recalling a time he’d seen such an affectionate father.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he saw one look at their daughter unless it was to scold them.

Kwame turned her towards them, and he followed Roulet’s lead, nodding politely in greeting.

He bit back a grin when her curious gaze lingered on him.

‘Sabine, you’ve met General Roulet.’

Sabine curtsied. ‘Nice to see you again, General.’

‘You as well, Sabine. Your skills are coming along nicely.’

‘Well, I won’t be ready for a battlefield anytime soon, but I can at least land a hit or two,’ she quipped.

Kwame and the general laughed, and the focus shifted to him. ‘This is Captain Damien,’ Kwame told her.

He bowed to her. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle,’ he said.

‘You as well, Captain. Thank you for the advice. I’ll make sure to consider it in future lessons.’

‘I am honoured.’

‘Captain Damien will be joining you when you move to General Roulet’s home,’ Kwame informed her. Sabine’s eyes widened, and she opened her mouth, but her father lifted his hand before she could speak. ‘Just for added protection. I’ll have to take the men with me once I leave in two weeks’ time.’

While he came off as callous to many, Damien prided himself on being aware to a fault.

As a Black man in the French military, his life depended on it.

So, he didn’t miss the many emotions that rushed over her face nor the fear that flashed on it when she looked at Roulet.

The moment of vulnerability followed by the quickness of how she steeled herself back to being a gracious host caused a pang in his chest.

How many times had he done the same?

‘That’s… good,’ she replied. ‘Perhaps, he could become my new teacher.’

‘If the lady wishes,’ Damien encouraged, but kept his voice even. When she looked at him again, the wariness faded a little and for a moment, it felt like the dynamics were reversed: them against well-meaning but unmoveable leaders. They both looked away.

‘Very well,’ Kwame said. ‘It’s settled. Resume your studies.’

‘I thank you for your generosity, Father,’ she said sarcastically, though her eyes softened as he kissed her forehead. ‘I’ll see you at dinner.’

‘’Til then,’ he promised. ‘Gentlemen, let’s talk details.’

The trio headed back inside with the general and Kwame talking through the details of Damien’s post while he did his best not to think too much about the young woman practising in the garden.

‘What do you think?’ General Roulet asked Damien an hour later as they stood on the railway platform that would take them back to Paris.

Damien leaned on one of the columns as he watched civilians chat amongst themselves animatedly.

In comparison to the colourful, bustling household they had just left, everyone else looked dull.

‘She’s different than I expected,’ Damien commented. ‘Older. I’m surprised she has not married yet.’

‘Yes, with the transition of French rule being so recent, Kwame hasn’t had much time to think of it until now,’ the general reasoned.

‘If she’s supposedly training to be a lady, why is she learning to fence?’ Damien asked.

‘It’s a hobby she picked up from her father,’ Roulet told him. ‘After Kwame’s wife passed, it gave them something to bond over. He also didn’t want his daughter to feel vulnerable in the world.’

‘Curious.’ Something stirred inside him as he remembered the way their eyes had met and recalled the defiance in her gaze. He looked up to see Roulet looking at him suspiciously.

‘You seemed to be reluctant about the job in the study. Though Kwame can be persistent, I can smooth things over with him if you’re not comfortable.’

‘You would champion for a fool like me?’ Damien teased.

‘Answer honestly,’ he commanded, facing him. ‘What do you truly think of Sabine?’

Damien sighed. Not for the first time, he wished that Roulet was like him.

It would be much easier to explain how he saw more similarities between him and a stranger than the comrades he’d made over the years.

Not just her insistence on annoying the most powerful person in the room, but different like him.

African with no tribe. French with no name. Caught in a world that didn’t know what to do with them.

Looking at Sabine, he could feel a sense of kinship, a chance for once, not to be the only one in a crowd. It was a foolish reason to take a job, but he couldn’t deny his curiosity.

‘I think it’ll be interesting to see her father convince her to marry. She’s a fighter,’ he said. ‘The job pays enough, and my assignments are a bore. Maybe a change of pace will be useful.’

The general hummed before checking his timepiece, as if he were trying to seem relaxed.

Damien knew the general well enough that there was more on his mind.

He counted forty-seven seconds before the general spoke.

‘She’ll have a lady’s maid attending her,’ General Roulet mentioned. Damien almost chuckled.

So, that’s what worried his superior offer, not that he blamed him. Her beauty combined with her father’s confidence made Sabine undeniably intriguing. But there were many women in Paris and more who would not cause a potential headache for him down the road.

‘She’s pretty, but nothing special in any other regard.’ The words tasted like ash on his tongue.

‘If you’re sure…’

‘I am,’ he said confidently. ‘I won’t disappoint you. You have my word.’