My Greatest Regret Has Returned - ✿ dusk blossoms ✿

“The weather’s nice, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

Although the tone was well meaning, Isabelle didn’t find it particularly pleasant.

Was that how Louise had felt?

Now that she was face to face with Camille, she could understand – just a little – the reason for her bad behaviour.

In the absence of a proper answer, Camille seemed flustered and put her hand to her mouth. The gesture was so charming that it was paradoxically infuriating.

She was a woman with fiery red curls and beautiful green eyes. The freckles that dotted her face gave her a playful charm.

“……”

Had he liked women like her?

In contrast, Isabelle was a cool beauty with alabaster skin, like plaster.

Her hair, too, was an ashen grey devoid of warmth – no further explanation was needed.

To think that he was now in the company of a woman so completely opposite.

It spoke volumes about how much he had changed, and Isabelle bit down hard on her lip.

As she and Camille sat in silence, a servant approached, glancing alternately between the two women before speaking.

“Shall we go to the dining room now?”

“Is everything ready?”

“Yes, just as you instructed.”

“You haven’t forgotten to put rose petals in the tea, have you?”

“Of course not.”

The way she said it was strikingly cheerful.

Camille, smiling brightly at the cheerful servant, gave him a playful wink before suddenly grabbing Isabelle’s hand and dashing off towards the front gate.

“What on earth…!”

“Hurry up!”

The sheer audacity of such an unthinkably rude gesture left Isabelle too stunned to shake off her hand. She was simply dragged along by Camille.

This action –

Alathea, who had been watching them quietly, suddenly screamed and ran after Isabelle.

“Milady!”

“Isabelle!”

The shot followed immediately.

Almost as soon as her name was called, Isabelle was thrown to the ground by someone’s body.

Arnaud had wrapped his arms around her and jumped into the bushes.

She caught a glimpse of golden curls and the cool scent of his neck.

It was unmistakably her husband.

Which made the situation all the more incomprehensible.

Isabelle blinked quickly from his arms, her eyes darting.

“Are you all right?”

“I… I mean, I…”

A moment later, Arnaud appeared, holding her with one hand as he asked urgently.

His face was visibly shaken, his eyes wide and glowing a deep blue with shock.

Isabelle stammered for a moment, unable to form proper words – until she realised she was being held in Arnaud’s arms. Only then did her face turn bright red.

But the question never left her.

Why had he come for her – and not Camille?

“Cover Monsieur!”

“Oh no, the bleeding won’t stop!”

It seemed that the shot had indeed found its mark. Sharp cries and screams came from all around.

Seeing that Arnaud didn’t grimace, he seemed to be unharmed.

If that was the case… then who had been shot?

A wave of fear washed over Isabelle and she sprang to her feet. Her movement was so urgent that she immediately pressed her back against his heavy chest.

The scene over her shoulder was chaotic. The guards who had followed the carriage were now surrounding the couple, guns drawn, and the maids had abandoned their duties and were frantically searching for someone.

“……”

And Alathea was nowhere to be seen.

“Wait, wait a minute… Arnaud, I…”

“Don’t move! It’s too dangerous!”

Isabelle’s gaze was fixed on one spot as she used his shoulder as a prop to stand up.

No – more accurately, she tried to stand up.

She was soon pulled into his arms as Arnaud pulled her in.

“Don’t look. You mustn’t see…”

“Let me go!”

She felt like she was going to cry with fear.

Even then, when he refused to release her, Isabelle pushed him away with all her strength and ran towards where the maids were gathered.

Her skirts kept catching under her feet, almost causing her to fall, but scraping her knees meant nothing to her now.

“Théa… Théa…”

Calling out the nickname she had always used for her maid, she pushed her way through the group of maids.

Soon she saw Alathea, her eyes half closed, the area near her left br*ast a deep red.

The loyal maid who, along with Arnaud, had been her lifeline during those hellish three years…

With trembling hands, Isabelle pulled the Engageantes from her sleeve and pressed it over the wound.

She had to apply pressure to stop the bleeding, but the blood kept gushing out, making it impossible.

How could she hold back the sobs?

Tears streamed down Isabelle’s face as she repeated words like Please, dear God over and over.

“No, please! Théa, don’t close your eyes! I’ll get a doctor immediately…!”

“M’lady… I’m… all right.”

She didn’t forget to slap Théa lightly on the cheeks to keep her awake.

But when Théa’s eyelids showed no sign of opening, Isabelle turned her head away in fear.

She need to call a doctor. She must tell them to come quickly.

Isabelle called to the maids in a voice choked with tears,

“We-we must hurry. Please, help me, will you? Somebody, just… this girl, please…”

But no one moved. They just exchanged glances, not one of them stepping forward.

Isabelle was the only one trying to stop Théa’s bleeding.

“Someone is dying! How can you just stand there and do nothing?”

Was it because she had raised her voice for the first time?

At Isabelle’s desperate cry, five or six of the maids jumped at once.

Just as the youngest looking maid scrambled to her feet in panic, Alathea reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed Isabelle’s arm.

“I’m… all right.”

“Théa, are you awake? Can you stay with me?”

“M-My lady…”

“No, don’t talk. You’re losing too much blood, Théa. Please… just live. That’s all I ask.”

Despite Isabelle’s rapid-fire words of concern, the maid only smiled. Before Isabelle could tell her not to move, Théa moved her hand from her arm to gently touch her cheek.

“Our poor lady…”

“……”

“Who will look after you when I’m gone?”

It was as if she knew this would be her last moment – yet she worried about Isabelle to the end.

Isabelle shook her head shakily in denial.

No. No, that’s not true. The doctor will come. Théa wouldn’t leave so easily.

“What are you saying, Théa…?”

“You’re so pitiful… haah… far too pitiful…”

She seemed to have more to say, but Isabelle never got to hear it –

for at that moment Alathea’s breathing stopped completely.

Her head fell limp, completely still.

“Théa?”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Théa, Théa. Alathea!”

If she calls her, she’s supposed to answer.

Isabelle cried out her name several more times before collapsing over Théa’s body with a heartbreaking wail.

Her new robe was soaked in the blood that Théa had shed.

It was undoubtedly a terrible situation, but no one could bring themselves to stop Isabelle.

“Agh… ah… hic… Théa, Théa…”

She kept calling Théa’s name.

Until, not long after, she lost consciousness right where she had fallen.

Her face was buried in the lifeless body, unmoving,

and the maid’s hands grew more desperate.

” My lady? My lady!”

“She fainted? Oh my God, what do we do?”

As one of the maids tried to lift Isabelle, her body went completely limp.

Just then, a broad-shouldered man burst through the circle of maids.

“Isabelle! Isabelle!”

He pulled her frail body into his arms and shook her back and forth.

When he realised she was unconscious, he cursed through clenched teeth.

“Get someone – anyone – before I kill you all!”

Without waiting for an answer, he ran for the front gate with Isabelle still in his arms.

Even as he left, he was shouting at the maids, who hadn’t even moved to get help.

Startled, the maids, wringing their hands, scattered in all directions.

In the days to come, they would remember Arnaud’s face from that moment – over and over again.

***

When she regained consciousness, the first thing she saw was the massive golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

It must have been night, for the lights glowed brightly.

Isabelle stared silently at the dozens of melting candles, and when she realised that the surface beneath her wasn’t the dirt floor, she sat up quickly.

The feeling of something strange came next.

She turned her eyes to her left hand, where she felt something touching it.

“Isabelle.”

At the other end of it was Arnaud.

When she looked back and forth between their joined hands and his face, as if to ask what was going on, Arnaud let go of her hand with a small cough.

“It’s a relief you’ve come to your senses.”

Then he began to fidget with his hands as he stood up.

As if he knew she was still far from lucid, he turned his head, not forgetting to call someone.

“Since she’s awake, summon Lord Nouvelier…”

“What about Théa?”

But the doctor never got the chance to examine Isabelle.

Before Arnaud could finish his sentence, her soft voice cut through and stopped everything.

Arnaud, still staring at his wife with slightly parted lips, said nothing. Then he walked over to the desk by the window and brought back a mahogany box.

He placed it gently in Isabelle’s arms.

“There was no proper place to bury her. Nor was there room to transport a body. The funeral will take place when we arrive in Antmaren.”

He didn’t say it was her ashes, but Isabelle knew.

Alathea no longer existed in this world.

Closing her eyes tightly in pain, she raised her hand and made the sign of the cross, just as she had done as Elizabeth.

Her clasped fingers came to rest on her shoulder.

As her silent prayer ended, Isabelle’s eyes turned to her husband.

Arnaud didn’t bother to look away, and the silence lasted for almost five minutes.

As her silent prayer ended, Isabelle’s eyes turned to her husband.

Arnaud didn’t bother to look away, and the silence lasted for almost five minutes.

It was Isabelle who spoke first.

“Who was behind this?”

“I dismissed the guards. It seems the shot was fired from inside the palace.”

As he spoke, Arnaud’s hands looked more soaked than before.

Unlike before, the blood was clearly seeping through the bandages wrapped around them.

At the sight, Isabelle instinctively reached for him – but the memory of his scream in the bridal chamber came rushing back and she quickly withdrew her hand.

Even in her grief, questions swelled within her.

Why had he dragged her from the bridal chamber that night?

Why had he thrown himself at her the moment the shot rang out?

Why had he stayed by her side as she lay unconscious?

And if he had wanted to do all this –

why had he pushed her away on their wedding night?

It was all too confusing.

So she couldn’t bring herself to say a word.

Still staring into those always unreadable blue eyes, Isabelle finally turned her gaze to the window.

Then the door opened.

“Well, well. Looks like I’ve interrupted a lovely moment.”

Author’s note:

Engageantes – false sleeves attached to the ends of Rococo-era dress sleeves, often made of lace or fine fabric and used to add elegance and volume to the outfit.