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“Bonsoir, Bernard.”
It feels strange to feel those words on my lips again; in another life, I used to say them every day. They’re forming on my tongue from pure habit, spilling on instinct, almost as if the past two decades had never happened. It feels even stranger to say them while I am covering Bernard’s mouth with one hand and pressing a knife to his throat with the other.
“Don’t worry,” I assure him despite the precarious nature of our current situation. “I will not hurt you. I just need to make sure that you will not scream or run away. Do you promise?”
A slow, careful nod confirms our agreement, so I do let go of my old tutor. My knife stays raised but moves away from his skin, not as imminent of a threat any longer. Merely a safety measure I cannot fully give up on just yet.
I take the chair at the wooden desk in the corner, then gesture at the neatly made bed below the little window with the same heavy, forest-green curtains I remember from way back when. “Please, have a seat.”
His eyes widen with both recognition and disbelief as he looks me up and down, frozen in place for a long moment. Of course, he didn’t expected to ever see that face again.
“… Mademoiselle Alyssé?” He does take the seat I offered, which is probably for the best. Don’t some people tend to faint in shocking or stressful situations, like, say … when they see a ghost? “Is that really you? They said you were dead.”
“Yeah, well.” I let out a dark chuckle. There’s no point in making any effort to hide the disdain I hold for my parents to this day. Not now. Not with Bernard.“They’re royals. Of course, they would much rather pretend their daughter is dead than admit that she’s a disgrace to the family.”
Disbelief turns into understanding, and the genuine warmth and compassion in Bernard’s deep brown eyes is almost too much to bear. Almost. I can’t meet his gaze, not when it feels like he sees right through me , still, after all these years; just like back then when he was the only staff member I could never sell a lie to, no matter how hard I tried. But that wave of empathy also feels like a long-craved hug, somehow. In a way, it feels like coming home more than anything else has since I set foot on the cursed soil of my homeland — I’m finally confessing the devastating truth of my whereabouts, after all, and to someone who used to care about me so deeply I once considered him family, nonetheless. I just wish it were happening under more pleasant circumstances.
“I need you to do me a favor, Bernard,” I manage after a drawn-out moment of silence, refusing to elaborate on the painful memory of making my self disappear in exchange for my freedom. “A big one.” My throat is dry, and if my hands weren’t clenched into fists, a knife wedged in one of them, surely the trembling would show by now. “Two weeks from now, on Sunday night, history will take a turn.”
“What kind of turn?” he asks warily, just as I expected.
I consider my answer carefully. “A dangerous one.”
“Ah. I see.” Bernard musters a cautious smile .“And you need me, of all people, to participate? Is that right?”
I force myself to look at him now. I should probably be stern and serious, I know that, but all I can manage is silent pleading. If Bernard doesn’t agree to help, I don’t know how to pull this off. Not at all.
“Not quite.” A deep sigh passes my lips, thoughts racing behind my collected facade. “I just need you to get Alexandre out of the city before midnight.” Alexandre can’t be here when it happens. He can’t. Bernard should have no trouble guessing why. “Come up with some fake identity, get him to the nearest port, and make sure he gets to Atrahor. It’s where Simón and I live nowadays. We will arrange for his travels from there on.”
Bernard blinks slowly. “Monsieur Simón … is alive, too?”
A soft smile plays on my lips as I nod. “He is.”
It’s the one thing that has kept me going through this whole mess I stumbled into by returning to a place I had sworn I’d never see again in my lifetime: the thought of Simón and our new life far away from here. Of coming back home — actually home — with him and building something new upon the ashes our wicked bloodlines and wretched homelands tainted our hearts with. Of making sure Alexandre is safe with us, safe and free to create a life of his own, just like I did so long ago, unburdened by the heritage neither of us ever truly wanted to carry on in the first place. Of the incredible privilege that is this chance to build a future together with all the people who truly matter.
“Alexandre’s life depends on you,” I reiterate. “You’ve known him since he was a little boy. You know he doesn’t deserve to get mixed up in this.”
Bernard doesn’t reply at first. Long enough for my heart to start thumping louder and faster in my chest. Long enough for it to sink, too.
“I will compensate you generously, of course,” I adds, suddenly more nervous than I’ve been on any mission before. “The revolution doesn’t run on money, but I sure do, and I am more than willing to provide you with anything you need. Your family will be taken care of. You will never have to wish for anything again. Whatever it is — ask, and it shall be yours. On the condition that you help me keep my brother safe. Please don’t let him pay for the mistakes our parents made.”
“You don’t have to pay me,” Bernard finally says with a deep, tired sigh, adjusting his glasses with the side of his hand just like he used to back in the day whenever he was trying to explain a topic better, struggling to make the complex simple enough for a young mind to grasp in its entirety. “This is not a question of money, but of decency. Your brother has grown into such a fine young man, Mademoiselle. If you could see him nowadays — you would be incredibly proud, I assure you.”
The breath of relief I was hoping for comes with an unexpectedly warm, nostalgic smile. “I’m sure he has.”
I am proud; I know in my heart that despite everything, my brother is still and always will be worth saving. It’s the only reason I ever agreed to my role in the brewing storm that will sweep the status quo away. The only thing that could have pushed me to try and pull off a job this risky.
“You’re a good man, Bernard. I would like to pay you,” I insist. “You have always been good to us, even when things were complicated. You’re family. More so than our blood relatives ever were.”
“If that is your wish, Mademoiselle, I shall not refuse.” Bernard clears his throat and averts his gaze, an almost sheepish smile on his wrinkled face. “Thank you for the generous offer. I am glad to see your parents’ terrible behavior has not managed to kill the kindness in your heart.”
My shoulders tense, but I try not to let it show. “At this point, I’m not so sure about that.” Before Bernard can reply, I stand up, put my knife back in the leather fixture at my hip, and straighten out my skirt. “Please leave your schedule for me at the tavern in Saint-Marie-de-Charcelleaux. We can meet up whenever you’re free to discuss the details. Name a date and a discreet place, I will be there.”
“I will,” Bernard confirms.
“I’ll see you soon, then. I’m counting on you.” Already turning to leave, I stop in my tracks one more time. “Oh, and not a single word to Anouk.” I cringe at the thought of the maid who already worked for my parents back when I still lived here. “The old tattletale is terrified of my parents. She would tell them, if only to cover her own ass just in case things go south.”
Bernard lets out a dry laugh. “Don’t you worry. I am aware. Not to be disrespectful, but I suppose that nowadays, I might be even more familiar with the people and the ongoings in the palace than you are.”
With the last syllable dying within the heavy silence of Bernard’s chamber, I am already gone. There is much to do still, and time, as usual, is not on my side.