Eleonore
༻ 𖥸 ༺
The baby kicked. Eleonore watched as the tiny life within her womb shifted, sending gentle ripples cascading across the surface of her skin. Restlessness had become her constant companion since Maximilien had departed for Paris. His devotion to the revolution surpassed any love he might have felt for her—or for their unborn child.
The realization stung deeply, tugging painfully at her heart. Yet, it solidified her conviction that Maximilien must never discover the existence of their child. The agony of losing him was torment enough; Eleonore could not bear the thought of their child enduring such rejection.
She placed a gentle, protective hand over her belly, silently vowing that her baby would grow up loved, safe, and shielded from the cruel shadows cast by his father's ambitions. Maximilien had chosen his revolution, but Eleonore would choose her child.
Eleonore Duplay, the unfortunate, lovesick, young, foolish, girl. Her only true sin, was loving a man that turned out to be incapable of love. Her heartbreaking mistake, would be realized too late. Not soon enough to save her from being plunged into darkness and despair. Too late to save her from an untimely demise.
As time would tell her tale, the tragedy of Eleanor's end could not be helped. Her daughter however, was the subject of another story altogether. The child's fate had not been set in stone. Whether or not her young doting mother's sacrifice was in vain, had not yet been decided.
So those who wondered waited, watching, whispers released into the wind, attempting to will their desires into existence. Some worked tirelessly in the shadows, weaving intricate webs of plots, hoping to tip the scales of fate to their favor.
All would be revealed in due time, and the clock would be set in motion once the child was of age. So for seventeen years, a little orphan child, had been permitted to live a relatively mundane life. However, now that was all about to change, forever.
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