Chapter 26 – Like a Lie

“Please return my painting.”

Sasha demanded this of Monsieur Michonnet, who had returned home only in the morning after drinking heavily the night before.

“I heard from Rose. You took my painting and pawned it.”

“Hmph! Acting all high and mighty over a single painting. You bragged about bringing it to your sponsor, so I thought maybe I could sell it for a high price, but it wasn’t worth much after all. I barely managed to get enough to cover the water bill you used yesterday.”

The money he got from selling the painting wasn’t as little as he claimed to Sasha, but it was far less than he’d hoped. 

So she had a sponsor? Must have posed as a model for some painter and gotten paid a few coins.

“Young women who claim to be artists are all the same.”

Monsieur Michonnet sneered, but Sasha didn’t care.

“Give it back.”

If he wanted more rent, she could pay as much as she had, but not the painting. That painting was meant for Baron Pierre-Auguste.

“It’s just a painting. You can draw another one.”

Monsieur Michonnet was startled by Sasha’s firmness. Yesterday, she’d paid rent without protest, so he thought he could easily squeeze more out of her, but she was tougher than Eloise.

‘Is she going to go out and report me?’

There was little chance the lazy police would respond to the word of a girl with no acquaintances in Laurent, but if they did, he might end up fined. The pawnshop where he handed over Sasha’s painting was tied to a shop selling illegal liquor. If the police found the bar, he could be caught up in it as well.

“You’re just as rude and insolent as Eloise! Get out of my house right now!”

Monsieur Michonnet, face flushed red, shouted and forcibly threw Sasha out the door. Sasha knocked on the red door, but it wouldn’t open. After a while, only her luggage was thrown out.

“Sasha?”

Eloise, returning from the factory, saw Sasha picking up her scattered luggage under the bull statue and looked bewildered.

“Eloise! Your country friend accused my dad of being a painting thief and got kicked out!”

Rose shouted, laughing from the window. Eloise’s face turned bright red as she realized the situation. She knew Sasha wasn’t the type to falsely accuse her uncle, nor did she have any reason to. It was clear her uncle had secretly stolen Sasha’s painting and used the money for drinking, just as he stole Eloise’s wages every Sunday to go to the bar. Still, Eloise’s pride was too wounded to apologize to Sasha.

“I don’t think of Monsieur Michonnet as your uncle. So him stealing my painting has nothing to do with you.”

After organizing her luggage, Sasha dusted off her knees and stood up.

“And while you were gone, I thought about it. Everything I said yesterday was true. I never once thought you were less than me. While living in Manolie, you were the most mature and admirable friend I knew.”

Sasha looked straight at Eloise.

“So Eloise, let’s go back to Manolie together.”

Eloise collapsed in tears. She hated Sasha. But she also liked Sasha. She didn’t know how not to like Sasha. She could hate her, but not stop liking her. She liked her so much it hurt. Eloise clung to the friend who’d come all the way from Manolie and cried her heart out. Sasha comforted Eloise under the bull statue until her tears subsided.

After a long while, Eloise regained her strength and decided to return to Manolie immediately. The problem was, with only the money Sasha had left, they couldn’t buy train tickets for both of them. Eloise didn’t hesitate and grabbed Sasha’s hand.

“Let’s go to the candy seller in Etienne Forest. Rose buys barley candy there every day, so Madame Michonnet left money in advance.”

Sasha looked at her in surprise, and Eloise gritted her teeth.

“The factory wages I’ve handed over to Madame Michonnet until now are more than enough to cover the train fare.”

As Eloise said, the two crossed Etienne Forest to find the barley candy seller. The old woman, smelling of barley syrup, was in front of the fountain on Sainte-Marie Street. As soon as Eloise approached, Monsieur Michonnet, who had been lurking nearby, jumped out and grabbed Eloise’s hair.

“You little rat. I knew it. You were planning to steal more of my money and run off to your hometown, weren’t you?”

Sasha, trying to help Eloise, was shoved hard by Monsieur Michonnet and fell to the ground. He shouted at Eloise, who screamed for him to let go.

“Let go? Don’t be ridiculous! After you left, I checked the closet and found my money gone. I’m throwing you insolent little rats into the vagrants’ shelter immediately.”

“I never stole any money! I didn’t even know there was money in the closet!”

“Try your excuses at the police station. We’ll see if the officers believe a country girl’s word.”

The man laughed viciously, grabbed both girls by the wrists, and dragged them triumphantly toward the Laurent police station. The guests of the luxury hotel across from the fountain clicked their tongues at the crude and vulgar commotion, but soon disappeared into their own beautiful world separated from poverty.

* * *

It wasn’t long after being dragged to the police station that Sasha realized how Monsieur Michonnet could so confidently frame them. Without a trustworthy person to vouch for them, the officers wouldn’t listen at all.

The only person who could vouch for Eloise was her uncle, Monsieur Michonnet, but he had no intention of doing so. Sasha was in the same position. The only acquaintances she had were her sponsor, Baron Pierre-Auguste, and Damien, but neither could be easily summoned.

Meanwhile, Monsieur Michonnet was strongly demanding the girls be sent to the vagrant shelter immediately. If things continued, Sasha and Eloise would be taken away together. Sasha had no choice but to give Damien’s address. An officer glanced at it and tried to contact him, but Damien was out. Eloise despaired.

Just then, there was a commotion outside. The officer in charge of Sasha and Eloise hurried to his feet. At the entrance stood a tall man in a navy jacket and white Panama hat. When their eyes met, he lifted his hat. Even from a distance, Sasha recognized him instantly. It was Mr. Robert, who had left for Laurent a day before her.

“Attorney Raoul Dawson.”

The man standing with Robert, apparently his companion, took off his hat and greeted the inspector.

“I will vouch for Miss Sasha Vinoche’s identity.”

The inspector, who had gone to the door, turned around and saw the two country girls accused as vagrants. Only then did he realize why such distinguished gentlemen had come.

Sasha was so stunned she couldn’t say a word. In the midst of the noise, Mr. Robert appeared like a lie, watching her with an unfamiliar face.

* * *

“How about it? Should we have our wedding here at Hotel d’Ecran?”

Deborah looked around at the hotel decorations and asked Duke Guienne. The duke, escorting her a step behind, turned to her. Deborah could never tell what he was thinking. When he was with her, he was attentive, but somehow seemed lost in other thoughts.

<My dear, it’s not always bad for your future husband to be difficult. A little distance in marriage helps it last longer.>

Queen Anaïs stroked her granddaughter’s cheek, giving advice. But even that didn’t ease Deborah’s anxiety.

‘What if, living so lukewarm, one of us falls passionately for someone else? What then?’

If Duke Guienne became infatuated with another woman and threw away their arranged marriage? The duke was always courteous to his unofficial fiancée Deborah. But just because others envied his exceptional manners, it didn’t mean Deborah felt special to him.

“It would break tradition. The royal family would object.”

Robert replied indifferently.

“It’s time to clear away unnecessary relics of the past. For the sake of a greater future. Besides, Grandmother promised to leave all marriage matters to me.”

“Is that so.”

He smiled faintly. The Queen’s granddaughter, a symbol of the old era, talking about clearing away the past—it was amusing.

“Then preparing a wedding at the hotel might not be so bad.”

The man, smiling mysteriously, gave her a definite answer, and Deborah was relieved. It hurt her pride to be so tense about his reactions, but for Duke Guienne, she could accept it. He would be hers anyway.

Deborah, adjusting her expression, frowned at the faint commotion.

“What’s that?”

There was a vulgar scene on Sainte-Marie Street, where the hotel stood. The duke, who usually paid little attention to such things, watched it closely.

“Today, I won’t be able to accompany you further. I’ve told the manager about the exhibition inspection, so you can rely on him.”

He was the same as usual, yet different. The man’s eyes were drawn to the commotion at the fountain, with a strange, ominous glint.

“All right. Sorry for taking up so much of your time.”

Deborah didn’t try to hold him back. She finished her greeting with a slight nod. The man left  quickly but not hurriedly. His lawyer followed in a rush.

Deborah watched until the duke left the hotel completely, but he never looked back. When even his shadow disappeared, she turned and headed for the exhibition hall.