Epilogue
France, 1760
The bell from the lighthouse rang out, helping passing ships avoid wrecking on the docks. This warning told them to anchor off shore until the fog passed. Thick clouds spread about. Helene Charbeaux and Geoffery Phillipe held each other, staving off the cold. Helene had used her pin money to buy passage on a ship to the New World. The French Rose. To her, it was a beacon of hope, to him, a journey to true love, and a happy life. Unknown to either of them, a witch watched from afar. Waving hands around the crystal ball, she whispered quietly.
Her eyes rolled back into her head, revealing only white. The woman before her gasped at the sight. She clutched her satin dress, that was so out of place in such a poor area of Paris.
“It is done,” she cackled, looking up at the rich woman before her. Her gray hair flew in all which ways, giving her a scary appearance. Her long black robes hid the old body, ravaged by time, but still older than any would think. A bag of rubies were laid out on the table. She looked to the woman before her, with her perfect dress and pinned curly locks. “I warn you though, Mrs. Charbeaux, this comes with a great price, more so than these jewels you pay me in now. I am a believer in true love. It can heal all, fix all. But there is a price to be paid. Not by you.”
Helene’s mother looked to the witch.
“I’m willing to pay any price. I just want my daughter happy. Her father has tried to take her joy too many times now.” Emmaline Charbeaux knew what it was to fear her husband. Their match was made by an Uncle who became the guardian of her, upon her father’s death. He wanted the title and not the problems of raising a young woman. He sold her off to the highest bidder, regardless of his behavior. She had paid a heavy price already and would not allow her daughter to do so as well.
“Then understand, they must die and find each other again. One will survive, the other will not, and each lifetime, they shall die and die again, until united by marriage. When they finally join legally as one, this will break the curse and reunite them in love forever.”
“You mean, my daughter will die?” Emmaline wrung her hands together. She understood, with Helene sailing to the New World, she was lost to her already. Death or not, she would be fine, as long as she continued to find her true love. “Thank you. I do realize what it means, and what you have done for us. You will never know, just how much this means to me.” She turned and left, trying to rush from the witch’s hut, before anyone spotted her. As she approached the stables where her horse and maid awaited, she heard his voice.
“Emmaline, what have you done?” Her husband shouted from behind her.
“What I must, to ensure our daughter’s happiness you so carelessly try to take from her.” She stood, head held high. For once, she found the courage to stand up to him. No matter the consequences. Trying to keep her composure, though she was full of fear, she held her back straight.
“She can do better than some musician. I have arranged an appropriate match. In time, she will be happy, and when she has children of her own, understand why it was done.”
“That’s not what I want for her. It is not what our daughter wants. True love means more than any money ever could. Unlike you, she does not aspire to climb the social ladder.”
“But she will be a royal. Emmaline, what have you done? You will not take this from me.” He stalked towards his wife. His sword rang out, as he unsheathed it. The metal glinting in the moonlight. He swung with a mighty arc, landing true, but not on its intended mark.
“Ye damn witch,” he shouted out. The old woman fell, grinning at him.
“Run,” she croaked to Emmaline, who did just that. She rushed to the stable, where her maid awaited with a horse. Emmaline would escape for now, but knew her husband would seek her to the ends of the earth. But their daughter, she would be free.
The witch took her last breath and Lord Charbeaux watched as a white mist rose from the body before him. With his two men beside him, the trio stood helpless as the mist rose, floating on air towards the sea. The witch’s cackle could be heard through the night, as she found that in death, she was free from her cursed long life, and could seek out the Charbeaux child, to deliver the message that her mother had arranged. That she would have her happy ending.