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Amée’s memory warned him to stop, to get up and walk away.

He swiped his mouth, afraid to answer her.

He hadn’t spoken of Amée with anyone since Cateline refused to be a part of his life after he laid Amée to rest. His jaw grew taut, and he played with his bread and cheese before taking a bite.

He swallowed it down with another sip of coffee, debating what to say.

“I have made you uncomfortable,” élise said. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

He shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “No, it is a valid question.”

His gaze flickered to the hearth. “It’s been years—felt like several lifetimes.

She was my wife, fell sick, and died in my arms. Our daughter passed as well.

” He fidgeted with his thumbnail as the words came without prompt.

“Time has blurred their faces in my mind.” He leaned forward, his forearms pressing into the wooden edge of the table.

“Our minds are our best advocate and our worst enemy.” élise chewed her lip. “Thank you for answering, and I’m so sorry you lost them to illness.”

“It was a long time ago,” he said and took a sip of coffee, hoping he did not give away too much.

élise studied him. “If I may re-ask my selfish question, do I intrigue you because of Amée?”

The woman liked to ask the hard questions, he mused.

His lips thinned. The more he stared at her, the more he realized the answer was no.

“I loved her, as you could tell,” he began.

“I don’t know why I thought she was you.

It must have been the lamp light or my dream of her the night before.

But although you share a resemblance at first glance, I doubt anyone would say you are even kin.

Though, you both possess the same kindness and selflessness. ”

He slowly turned his coffee cup on the table and dropped his gaze into its warm, round black pool.

“You intrigue me, élise, because of your beauty in your own right, in heart, hand, and face—all that I can tell within the little time I’ve known you.

” He glanced back up at her. “I hate to see you tied to a man who beats you and withholds food as punishment. But I fear, as you said, there is nothing I can do.” His gaze dropped to her rosebud lips, moving as if to speak but no sound emitting, before back to his coffee.

He scoffed at his openness. It was a path that would lead him to more heartache, one way or another.

“You represent a possibility that may never be a reality, or rather will never be a reality,” he said at last. “These last two weeks, you have been tucked away in the back of my mind.” He realized he had slipped from his fabricated navy man character and forced a small, rueful smile, taking a slow sip, letting the warmth settle him and mask his error before meeting her eyes.

She leaned forward. “You have been in my mind as well.”

He shook his head with a sad smile. “Don’t .

. . Don’t tell me such things, élise.” He licked his lip and took another sip.

He had to end it, there and then. He was too close.

“I hate to say, but I received word that I am being called back into His Majesty’s service.

In the morning, I will have to leave for the port. ”

Her gaze hit the table, and her shoulders slumped. “When will you return?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

For a moment as quick as his heartbeat, Rollant wondered if he could abandon the endless, purposeless years for a finite life with her.

Would the curse end? Would the sorceress’ deal be called off?

He had tried to leave his duty to the king when Amée was living, but every morning he slit his hand, it healed.

Eternity was his prison, just as Gabin was élise’s.

“I don’t know,” he replied with the weight of his choice six hundred years prior. “I’m not entirely sure what the orders are, but it would have been nice to know they called me back before I spent coin on inns the last two weeks,” he scoffed.

The server returned with two bowls of stew and quickly brought their pastries. Rollant nodded in gratitude while élise sat numb in the chair. Her gaze softened, and he saw her expression shift, mirroring some unspoken longing he did not want to entertain.

“Then I will spend as much time as I can with you today, and when you return, I will be glad,” she said. She ate her bread, drank her coffee, and then sent a heavy fist to the table. “Why did you bring me here if you were just to leave and you knew of Gabin?”

Her eyes burned through him. It was a good question.

He cursed his recklessness. Why had he brought her here and allowed himself to slip closer when he knew he’d leave her world before she realized he’d entered it?

“I was selfish,” he said. “I beg your forgiveness.”

She finished her bread and quietly ate her stew.

He sat, watching her eat. He wanted to explain.

“I needed to know you. I have spent years alone and missing my late wife. You were in my mind since I saw you last, and I thought if I could find something not to like, then I wouldn’t have to return to sea wondering what if. And all I’ve done is endanger you.”

She closed her eyes, and her shoulders shrank.

“I can’t be mad at you. You are a stranger that I swore was an informant, and I willingly went with you.

These past nights, I wondered how life would be if you were by my side instead of Gabin.

” She shook her head and winced. “I mean . . . ” Her voice trailed off as if she realized their weight.

To Rollant, her open vulnerability made her even more desirable.

Her eyes opened wide. “I mean, I still know nothing about you except you seem true and kind. Though you say you are selfish in bringing me here, I would have done the same.”

He slid his hand to hers once again. His thumb rubbed her wrist where Gabin’s mark lay. Time had stolen fleeting memories, but he would fight to keep the one with her in Le Lys Blanc for as long as he could. “I will remember you, élise.”

“It is better this way,” she said with resignation in her tone and said nothing more. “It was wrong of me to accuse you. You have given me a glimpse of something good I can never have.” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “Thank you for this moment.”

The words settled like sediment in a teacup until all that remained was the clarity of what was left unspoken.

It would have to be enough—these few hours with her. He would be back in Versailles by the next evening, and she’d fade to weathered memory as he fulfilled his position as the king’s loyal ghost. He sighed at each passing moment that transformed honor into abandonment.

* * *

The sun cast its red and purple hue over the westward sky as Rollant and élise walked the Rue de Faubourg Saint-Antoine.

The lamplighters lit the streets and cast the stone pavers in a warm, amber glow.

They walked too close with fingers interlaced, hidden in the folds of their coats.

Both were aware that their time together was drawing to a fast close.

Rollant wanted to say something, possibly even warn her that he was trapped by duty, but she was too blunt, she’d ask more questions than he could answer and not seem deranged.

They came to the bakery, and Gabin’s large shadow paced from within. “Where is she?” His voice boomed.

élise dropped Rollant’s hand and began to walk toward the bakery alone.

“No,” Rollant whispered, not knowing what brutality awaited her. “I told you I would face Gabin.”

“He may kill you, Rollant. I cannot allow that.”

“He won’t.” Rollant put three coins in her pocket. “Don’t tell him about these,” he said.

“Again, it is too much,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“No, as I said, it is not enough.” His fingers traced hers before gesturing toward their final destination. They walked into Au Pain Roux side by side.

Gabin marched up to her and yanked her behind him as he shouted in Rollant’s face. “She is mine! You’ll leave her alone, you sea maggot.”

Rollant’s muscles tensed beneath his coat at the way Gabin handled élise.

He wanted to tear her away from him, take her away, and let her live her life free from his abuse.

But he couldn’t ensure her safety after he returned to the palace.

At the resolve, he quelled the rage into an expressionless facade of his usual outward nonchalance.

“Monsieur Roux?” Rollant asked with eyes as cool as steel, his calm starkly contrasting to Gabin’s rage.

Gabin shoved him, but Rollant barely budged.

“Monsieur Roux, thank you for your apprentice’s time helping me find medical supplies for my return to port in the morning.

She was the only face I knew in all the surrounding districts.

No one else had talked much to me.” Rollant’s calm, deep voice diffused Gabin’s anger.

Gabin stood upright, his breath steadied.

“You are to return to port?” he asked, dusting the flour off his shirt and into Rollant’s face.

“Yes.” Rollant held a coin out for Gabin to take. “She was hesitant to help me, but she is a kind soul and agreed after I said I would reimburse her patron for any of her time you lost this day.”

Gabin swiped it out of Rollant’s hand and peered back at élise before sizing Rollant up. “I’m glad she was of use to you. Now be gone. Good luck at sea. And should you need my apprentice’s time again, you come and ask me first.”

Rollant nodded, wishing to give the man a public beating and bring to light how he had treated élise. “Of course. My error. Have a good meeting this evening. I hope it is as riveting as the last.”

Rollant backed out of the entrance and left.

He glanced through the window and found élise’s eyes one last time before he disappeared down the Rue de Charonne.

The oil lamp light caught her gaze and on the loose strands of her hair.

It would be the keepsake he would take with him.

It was only one day in an eternity, but perhaps élise would have the right to live alongside Amée in his memory, not as a love but of what could have been.