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élise tore her gaze from Rollant’s as she turned around. “Yes, he found me in the city and brought me home,” she explained to Hugo, but tears choked her words and had already stained her face.

Hugo pulled her into an embrace. “I had packed a bag to come looking for you. I was so scared to lose you, élise.” He kissed her on the cheek, near the mouth, before addressing Rollant.

A raw, jealous insecurity lived in Hugo’s gaze. “Thank you, Citizen Montvieux, for bringing her home.” His words were brittle.

Rollant nodded, his stoic nature superseding the warmth he held in his gaze just moments prior.

The silence between them stretched with unspoken words, suffocating the space, until Hugo’s hands dropped down her arms and slipped into her hands. “Why don’t you go let Giselle and Gabrielle know you are home? They are worried. Mama made stew, and you are freezing. I will be there in a moment.”

élise nodded with her gaze down, unable to see the hurt in Hugo’s eyes.

As Hugo pulled her into his arms, she felt the weight of the wooden ring on her finger—simple, honest, and binding.

She had tried to love him. She might have wanted a life with him, the stability and security he offered, if she had never met Rollant.

But every beat of her heart thudded for Rollant over the years, no matter how much she tried to silence it.

She walked the cobblestone path and peered over her shoulder. Rollant’s gaze briefly slipped to her while he conversed with Hugo.

It wasn’t fair to Hugo. And it wasn’t fair to herself. She knew now, with aching certainty, that there was only one man she could ever love—and when Rollant left again, she would wait for him to return, even if it meant waiting forever.

* * *

Hugo stood on the step higher than Rollant, widening his stance with his hands on his hips. “National Guardsmen, now?” he asked, gesturing to Rollant’s blue coat.

Rollant smiled and nodded, remembering his navy man persona. “Yes, I realized the sea was not for me once the King could no longer fund my wage.”

Hugo nodded with exaggeration. He crossed his arms and stepped closer. “Do you plan to arrest us for not agreeing with the king’s execution?” Hugo asked, his tone half-joking but edged with tension.

Rollant shook his head, a faint, hollow smile tugging at his lips. “No, but don’t tell anyone that. These days, silence is the only thing that keeps us alive. Don’t enter the city again.”

“Understood,” Hugo gritted, his eyes searching for something else, his lip twitching as he debated what to say, what question to ask.

“About élise,” he finally said.

Rollant expected it to come. His gaze drifted to her, and they locked eyes in the faint fog before she stepped inside. “Yes, ask your question, state your statement.”

Hugo shifted his weight. “I assume you saw her ring?”

“I did,” Rollant said. The words fell like stones between them.

Guilt gnawed at him; he hadn’t respected Hugo or his ring.

He had pulled her close and kissed her, knowing she wore it.

But if she married Hugo, at least he would remember her not recoiling in fear, but offering love—a gift given once, and never taken back.

“Well,” Hugo began. “She loves you more than she does me; she’s made that plain enough. But if you will not marry her, and she marries me instead,” his voice tightened, “you cannot keep coming back and haunting her.”

Rollant thinned his lips, forcing himself to quiet the rebuttal rising in his throat and to speak the words that needed to be said. “I told her to marry you, Hugo.”

Hugo’s arms dropped. “You did what?” he stammered. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You told her to marry me?” His voice cracked. “Why? If you love her, why tell her that?”

Rollant’s voice was steady, but the weight behind the words burned like ash in his throat.

“I do love her more than life itself. But you’re a good man, and you love her.

” He looked away, his gaze trailing to the mid-morning sun on the horizon.

“I told her you could give her everything I can’t—a future.

” His voice dropped lower. “But knowing it doesn’t make it hurt any less. ”

Hugo shifted, as if unsure what to say.

Rollant’s gaze drifted to where élise disappeared into Hugo’s family home.

“Though I long to be with her, my circumstances might never allow it. I told her that her love for me would fade if she let me go, but I would always love her. That will never change.” Rollant locked eyes with Hugo.

“Therefore, the choice is hers—to wait for something that may never be or to nurture what she already has in you.”

Hugo nodded, running a hand through his hair. “So if she chooses you, then I’ll be the fool,” he muttered.

“Give her time. Give her space,” Rollant said, placing a heavy hand on Hugo’s shoulder. “I envy you,” he said quietly.

Hugo frowned. “Me? Why me?”

Rollant shook his shoulder once, a faint, sad smile touching his lips. “You’re here with her. You heal people. You have the kind of life I’ll never know.”

Hugo studied him, his brow furrowing. “And if I were you?”

Rollant smiled faintly, though there was no humor in it. “You’d be trapped with no end in sight.”

Hugo hesitated, searching Rollant’s face. “Could you resign?”

“If I resigned, they would follow me here, assuming I opposed their policies, and they would likely imprison all of us.”

His tone dipped.

“I am stationed at the Temple now. If the atrocities spill beyond its walls, I will come for you and take you to another of my estates.”

He met Hugo’s gaze, grim.

“The four families. élise. All of you must be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. The National Guard watches for any sign of dissent. If they suspect Charonne harbors sympathies for the crown, they will not hesitate.”

Hugo’s face paled. “And if they come?”

“All of you will be imprisoned or worse,” Rollant said, his words like a blade. “So you must be prepared. Tell no one else. The wrong word to the wrong person could cost every life here.”

Hugo’s expression softened, though his grip tightened on his coat. “We’ll be ready,” he said.

Rollant nodded once. He turned to leave, but Hugo’s voice stopped him. “And what of élise?”

Rollant didn’t look back.

“She’ll make her choice,” he said, praying she chose Hugo for her sake and future, though the thought wrenched his soul.

* * *

The jeweler’s workshop smelled of molten silver and oil, the air thick with the hum of industry. Rollant stood before the counter, turning a plain silver band between his fingers, his expression unreadable. The craftsman watched him carefully, waiting for approval.

“This will do,” Rollant murmured, though his voice lacked conviction.

The ring was simple—unadorned, save for the small, circular insignia etched onto its surface: a mountain with three stars above it.

Faith. Honor. Duty.

The Montvieux crest.

Inside the band, barely visible, the engraving read: à jamais —forever.

It was not a promise nor a plea but a truth he had long accepted.

The ring would ensure her survival and grant her safe passage on his haunted estate in the Chartreuse mountains.

And there, if she ever crossed the threshold, she would find all the proof of his past, every secret he had ever dared to share with her.

But perhaps she would never need it. Perhaps she would heed his request, forget him, marry Hugo, and live a quiet life unburdened by his cursed existence.

The thought settled like lead in his chest.

The jeweler wrapped the ring in a soft cloth and handed it to his customer. Rollant hesitated before slipping it into his coat pocket. He would place it in her hand if the day came she needed it.

But if fate were kind, she would never wear it at all.