“Having just turned twenty-four, and having been married for eight years, I had long thought myself unable to conceive a child. Of course, Charles preferred the sensitive term, defective. Oddly, I only thought of the tea when I was in my dreamlike state with the man I knew as Jupiter. Even though I drank it faithfully, it was almost a mindless automation. This act never entered my waking consciousness. I never drank it after being with Julien.
I knew this would cause a few problems, but I felt such joy that any negative thought was quickly squelched. It would all work out, it had too. All sorts of new beginnings were in sight. To reveal my pregnancy to Julien, required the perfect moment. I decided the moment would be dinner, the week after I missed my course.
“Millicent, you keep dropping your chin.”
Julien was working at a fast pace, but not fast enough to put me at ease.
“Do you know how difficult it is to hold the same position for hours on end, my love?”
His deep blue eyes peered over his paintbrush, crinkled at the corners by a smile. “Of course, I do. About as difficult as standing and holding a paintbrush for hours on end.”
We both laughed. I continued my duty as his muse, by holding perfectly still.
“Please, let’s take a break soon,” I said, knowing that soon the light would be too bad for him to see.
“Almost, I just want to finish up those obsidian eyes. Then we will quit for the day.”
I was supposed to be staring off into the distance. I couldn’t help but keep my eyes on him. Twenty-four years is not a long time to live, when the years are happy and placid. Sadly, those years of my life had been emotionally cruel, lonely. This man, squinting at his canvas, with a strong body as straight as an arrow, had changed my future in the course of a single three-day adventure. The adventure had bloomed into something beautiful, bringing us to where we were now. Life’s bleakness had given way to light and love.
“Alright, I suppose I’ll go blind if I don’t stop now.” He said, dropping his brush in a jar of turpentine.
“Thank goodness.” I collapsed backward on the damask chaise in mock exhaustion. Julien walked toward me, wiping his hands on a bit of cloth. “The lady has had enough for today, or has she?”
I knew that look in his eye, I often had the same look for him. “Not here, someone could come in.”
“No one has ever bothered us here,” he said, moving on top of me, pressing his mouth against mine.
I let myself indulge in a long, slow kiss, then nipped at his bottom lip. “Do that again, later.”
“Yes, my lady.” He nipped my lip back, pulling me up with him.
“I shall wash and see you at dinner.”
“Be on time, I have news,” I said.
“News?” he looked apprehensive.
“Just go. I promise, it’s good.” I pushed him toward the door.
After dinner, he took the news beautifully. I was afraid the thought of an added burden would make him nervous. Much to my relief, Julien didn’t see it that way, at all.
“My darling.” He kissed my hand, holding me to him. “We will be well away, safe in a home of our own when your time is near. Are you afraid, at all?”
He continued to hold me, his breath skimming the back of my neck.
“I was at first, but not now. Everything will be wonderful, will it not?”
“Indeed, it will. Everything will be wonderful.”
“Still with me? Want that water yet?” I pause for Jack, but he shakes his head.
“I’m still with you. Be prepared to answer some questions when you’ve finished.”
“I’ll answer whatever you ask.” I continue.
“My pregnancy did nothing to speed up our time line. Our plan had been to leave when the portrait was finished, and it was almost upon us. I tried to get Julien to leave many times, but he refused to leave until the portrait was completed, and on its way to his own master. He was adamant he finish his masterpiece, making sure it was in safe hands. His need kept us in danger longer, but Julien could not be convinced to abandon the project.
The final week was torture for me. I feared for my husband’s return every moment of every day. When Julien told me the portrait was finished, a huge weight lifted. This meant as soon as the painting was dry and sent off, we could make our escape.
Julien led me into the warm, sunny conservatory that had been our home for these many, precious weeks. We stopped next to the yellow, damask chaise, which had served as my seat for the portrait. Taking my hand, Julien pressed my fingertips to his lips and then turning it over, kissed my palm and the inside of my wrist.
“Darling, the end of the portrait, is the true beginning for us. It will be hard, you will no longer be a Marchioness of France, but how else could we possibly live?”
“I’ve no regrets. I would leave this life for you again, and again. For it is no life without you.”
Julien told me to close my eyes, then sweetly led me to face the portrait. He stood close behind me, with his hands on my waist.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered.
I was amazed. Julien had created a stunning work of art. Masterful brushstrokes, intricate details, everything was perfection. The portrait looked fully dimensional, as if I could step off the canvas and into the room. My face had been painted with such loving care, it appeared to me as if I was gazing at my reflection. He painted me as he first saw me--Aphrodite wrapped in white.
“It’s magnificent. You have outdone yourself.”
“You are an easy subject to paint, my love. I am truly grieved that we cannot take it with us.”
I felt the atmosphere in the room change, when I heard a familiar voice say, “What a touching scene.”
My blood ran cold. Instantly, I felt an icy sweat creep down my back. Julien, instead of releasing me, tightened his grip on my waist.
“Don’t be afraid.” he whispered.
But, I was afraid. Afraid as I had never been in my life. We had been deeply foolish, idle even, now there would be a price to pay. Laughable, it seems to me now, how we thought we could remain as long as we did, then escape without a trace. But I knew so little of the world then.
I stepped out of Julien’s grasp, my head held high. I turned to face Charles.
“Charles,” I began to speak, but he didn’t let me get far.
He held up his hand, for a terrifying moment, I thought he was going to laugh. But, the half-smile turned into an ugly sneer and I shuddered.
“Don’t speak to me, please don’t try to explain this away. I have had it from the servants, how you visit his room every night. This is my home, everyone in it belongs to me. Did you think you could get away with this? You are nothing better than a whore.”
Julien moved along side of me.
“She is no whore, just as you are no husband.”
I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, I wanted to grab Julien and run. I could plainly see what was happening, there would be no escape for either of us. Charles would challenge Julien, and I would be lost. I could see no way out.
Charles pointed his finger at the man I loved, as four men, all friends of Charles, entered the room. “Lock him in the cellar. I will deal with him, later.”
Julien tried to fight them, but there was no use. As they were dragging him out, he shouted, “Don’t give up, Millicent!”
Life can change in an instant, when you least expect it. The tears flowed. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to think. Charles slapped me so hard I was driven to the ground. Because that wasn’t good enough, I also received a swift kick in the belly, dealt by his pointed leather boot. I was sobbing, in unbelievable pain.
“I was a good husband to you. I provided you a fortune and I never hurt you. You not only failed in your duty to give me an heir, you whored yourself out at the first opportunity. You have shamed me. No one will have any sympathy for you.”
Charles grabbed my arms and hauled me, painfully to my rooms. Once inside, he flung me on the bed. I had never seen him violent, only indifferent. I was terrified of what he might do next.
“Pack your things. Only the plainest, most modest things you own. No jewels. You won’t need them in the convent.”
“Charles, what will you do with him?”
He turned around. I flinched, thinking he would hit me, again.
Instead, he spit out, “What do you think?” and left me.
I was wracked with intense cramping, when the bleeding began. I knew I had lost the baby, delicate inside me. I removed my gown and sat in the bathtub, sobbing heavily, hoping for the pain to be over quickly. It was so new, only a few weeks. Everything had been for naught. I should have known a woman couldn’t make her own destiny, not in this world. All I truly cared for was Julien. How could I possibly save us both? My heart was broken for my love, for the loss of our child.
I laid there in a daze. I began to think on my dreams of Jupiter. More often of late, he had shown me the way to the little cottage, deep in the woods. He told me, if I ever found myself in distress, I was to seek him out. But, this was surely nonsense, only dreams. I was grasping at fairy tales, a girlish fantasy.
And then, very surely, I knew it was not. He was real. And he was waiting for me, just where he said he’d be. The bag of tea was always there, always full. I took it for granted the little cloth bag would always be in the compartment of my jewelry case. Jupiter was clearly able to play with one’s mind. I just had to hope he was powerful in other ways, as well.
Carefully, I cleaned myself and dressed, throwing on a black cape. There was still blood, but it was light enough, like my monthly cycle. The pain was more intense, but I could not be bothered with it. If I didn’t act, I would lose Julien, too. There was no time to waste, but it would be difficult to sneak out of the chateau.
Surprisingly, there was no one outside my door. Charles must have thought I lacked the courage to try an escape. I made my way as silently as I could through the unlit hallways. Still, not seeing a soul. Bracing myself, I walked down the grand, front staircase, every step a jolt to my sore body. It took me more than thirty minutes to make my way through the chateau to the outside, finally able to breathe in fresh air.
Once my foot hit gravel, I ran. As if our lives depended on it, and they did.
When I reached the edge of the woods, I stopped and turned around for one last look at my home. What I didn’t know was I would never again look on that hated place with mortal eyes. I followed the path shown to me in my dreams. Everything was familiar, and I made my way easily. After walking for hours, and who knows how many miles, the sun began to set. Cold panic made its way around my belly, but thankfully not for long.
The little cottage was the exact copy of the one from my dreams. Again, I didn’t feel this was strange, I did not feel unnerved in any way. I felt only as if I was walking a path I was always meant too.
The wooden door creaked open, there was Jupiter. Just as I knew him, from my dreams. He was dressed like a peasant in a white shirt and linen trousers, the color of sand. This was no peasant I had ever seen. This was a Roman god, indeed. His power was evident, and I smiled through my tears, because I needed that power. He opened his arms to me. I ran into them, like a child.
“Please help me,” I said.
“Hush now, dear one,” his voice was deep, thunderous. “All will be well.”
Jupiter took me into the cozy, little room, seating me by the fire. He put a glass of warm liquid into my hands.
“My name is actually Alexandre, Millicent,” he said, as if he had read my mind, all of this still felt very natural to me.
“I have so much to ask,” I said.
“Drink down that cup and you will have all the answers you need.”
I didn’t question him. I did as I was bid, I drained my cup dry. Instantly, all physical pain left me, I felt a dreamy, sleepiness take over. I could see everything. I saw Alexandre at my wedding, dancing endlessly, dressed as a prince. This is where Alexandre saw me for the first time and was taken with me. He felt a protectiveness for a sweet, innocent, and unhappy girl. After that night, he lived in this tiny cottage, so he could be close to me, in case I needed him.
Feeling my unhappiness, he visited me in my dreams, attempting to offer some cheer, some solace, and some hope for the future. He waited for me, biding his time. There was nothing malicious or frightening. Nothing to scare me, simply a need to protect, to watch over. I then saw he wasn’t human. He woke only at night, drinking blood to sustain himself. I shuddered when I witnessed him draining a woman, now dead in his arms.
“Are you going to do the same to me?” I asked, dreamily.
“No, never. I saw something in you, Millicent. Something worth preserving. My hope has always been one day, when you are ready, you will join me as a companion. We can be a family.”
“I can’t. I could never take a life. I’ve come here to ask your help to save my love. Surely, you know all that has happened.”
He looked down, I could see that he was measuring his words, carefully.
“I know why you have come, and I will help you.”
I felt such relief, a renewed energy helped me sit up straight in my chair.
“However, I want something from you in return.”
All I could think was, of course he does. All men are selfish when you come down to it. “You want me to become what you are.” I knew the answer.
“Yes, but I will give you time. I will save your lover, and then I will give you five years with him.”
“Five years!” I didn’t mean to shout, but I did.
“Would you like five years to live in happiness with the man you love, or would you like none? You have to give something, in order to receive something. This is the way of the world.”
He was threatening me, giving me an ultimatum, which seemed incongruous to what he had shown me. But, I was desperate. In my desperation, I thought to agree, then once Julien was free, he and I would escape.
“I agree.”
He smiled, and said, “I knew you were a smart girl. Trust me, Millicent. I only want what is best for you. Everything will work out as it should.”
I nodded. Hope sprang to my chest.
“You will remain here. I will go to the chateau, rescue Julien and bring him to you. The two of you will then be free to go.”
“I should come. Even after what’s happened, I don’t want anyone killed.”
“You will only slow me down. No harm will come to anyone inside the chateau. Stay here, please, and wait for our return.”
I reluctantly agreed. If what he showed me was true, Alexandre was fast, strong. He was right, I would only slow him down and be in the way.
“Hurry, I fear they have killed him already.”
Without another word, Alexandre was gone.
Time seemed to drag slower than ever before. In reality, it was only about an hour, before I heard movement outside. Alexandre burst through the door, covered in blood. He was alone. I sank to my knees.
“I am so sorry, I was too late,” I heard him say, right before the world went black.
I woke, remembering fully, everything that had happened. I lay on a soft bed, with Alexandre seated on a chair next to me.
“Tell me.” I could barely choke out the words.
“They had killed him before I arrived, shot in the head. They were searching the grounds for you, with torches. I’m sorry, but I killed Charles, and his friends. Your servants were untouched.”
“I’m glad. They had it coming.” Never would I have thought I would say such words, but the night had changed me. My heart was hard.
“I’ll join you,” I said. “But I must return to the chateau, once more.”
Quickly, Alexandre explained to me what he would do, how it would feel. I cared about nothing. He worked the majick right there on the bed. When his fangs pierced my throat, I had a change of heart, feeling I would rather die. But, Alexandre worked his trick too quickly, it was too late to alter my course.
Alexandre explained to me later that he calls this point of no return, deepest midnight. Panic is felt, along with a desire to turn back, but at that point there is no turning around. It felt like dying, at first. And then, when it was over, I felt more alive than I ever had before. My senses were clearer, more sharply focused. Unfortunately, this also meant my feelings were deeper and more keenly felt. I knew it was going to be a long eternity, and for me, deepest midnight would never end.
The next evening, my first as an immortal, I returned to the abandoned chateau. Alexandre waited outside, in a cart pulled by two beautiful black horses, pilfered from my stables. His job was to carefully take the still wet portrait and place it in the stone cabin, where it would be left to wait for us. While Alexandre performed this task for me, I packed my jewels, including Marie Antoinette’s sapphire bracelet, a few pieces of art, and any gold I could find. I was going to need money for the centuries. I never went into the cellar.
Then I torched the place.”