Behind the iron gate of the Villefort estate, hidden among towering chestnut trees that cast shadows across the manicured grounds, Maximilian waited. His heart pounded as he scanned the garden path, desperate for any sign of her approach.
Finally, footsteps crunched on the gravel. But instead of Valentine appearing alone as expected, two figures erged from the tree line.
The delay had been unavoidable, Mada Danglars and her daughter Eugénie had dropped by for an unexpected visit that stretched far longer than Valentine had anticipated. Not wanting to break her promise to Maximilian, Valentine had suggested a garden walk to her guest, hoping he’d at least see her and understand she hadn’t forgotten him.
Maximilian picked up on the situation imdiately. As the two young won strolled through the garden, Valentine made sure to pass by his hiding spot multiple tis. Each ti, when Eugénie wasn’t looking, she’d shoot him a aningful glance that clearly said: I’m sorry. This isn’t my fault. Please wait.
He waited patiently, using the ti to compare the two girls. Eugénie was blonde and delicate, with soft eyes and a willowy figure that bent gracefully as she walked. Valentine, on the other hand, was dark-haired and fierce, her posture straight and proud like a poplar tree reaching for the sky. In Maximilian’s eyes, there was no contest, Valentine outshone her companion in every way.
After what felt like an eternity but was really only thirty minutes, the girls finally parted ways. A few minutes later, Valentine reappeared in the garden alone. Moving carefully to avoid suspicion, she walked at a leisurely pace, even stopping to sit on a bench and glance around to make sure no one was watching. Only when she was certain of her privacy did she hurry toward the gate where Maximilian waited.
"Good evening, Valentine," he said, his voice warm with relief.
"Good evening, Maximilian. I’m sorry I kept you waiting, but you saw why."
"Yeah, I recognized Miss Danglars. I didn’t realize you two were so close."
"Who said we were close?" Valentine asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No one, but you seed like it. The way you were walking and talking together, like best friends sharing secrets."
"We were having a private conversation," Valentine admitted. "She was telling how much she hates the idea of marrying Albert de Morcerf. And I was confessing how miserable I am about being forced to marry Franz d’Epinay."
"Oh, Valentine..."
"That’s why we seed so comfortable together. When we talked about the n we’re being forced to marry, I couldn’t help but think of you, the person I actually want to be with."
"I love hearing you say that. You have sothing Eugénie will never have, that indefinable quality that makes you special. Like how fragrance makes a flower morable, or flavor makes fruit delicious. Beauty alone isn’t everything."
"That’s just your love talking," Valentine said with a slight smile.
"No, I an it. I was watching you both in the garden, and honestly, I can’t understand how any man could truly love her."
"That’s not fair, Maximilian. I was standing right there, so of course you were biased."
"Okay, but let ask you sothing. I’m curious about sothing Eugénie said-"
"I can already tell you’re about to say sothing an about her," Valentine interrupted, a hint of amusent in her voice. "This is exactly why won can’t expect much sympathy from n."
"You can’t deny that won are harsh judges of each other too."
"True, but that’s usually because we’re emotional in the mont. Anyway, what did you want to ask?"
"Does Eugénie hate the idea of marrying Albert because she’s in love with soone else?"
"I told you we’re not that close."
"Co on, girls share secrets even when they’re not best friends. You asked her, didn’t you? I can see you smiling."
"If you already know what we talked about, then that wooden fence between us isn’t much of a barrier, is it?"
"So what did she say?"
"She said she doesn’t love anyone," Valentine replied. "She hates the whole idea of marriage. She’d rather be independent and free. She even said she wishes her father would lose all his money so she could beco an artist like her friend Louise d’Armilly."
"See? That’s what I thought."
"What does that prove?" Valentine challenged.
"Nothing," Maximilian said quickly.
"Then why are you smiling?"
"Because you’re projecting your own feelings onto the situation."
"Do you want to leave?"
"No! God, no. But we’re wasting ti. I need to talk to you about sothing important."
"You’re right. We only have about ten minutes left anyway."
"Ten minutes?" Maximilian looked devastated.
"I know, I’m a terrible friend to you. You deserve so much better than this sneaking around. You should be happy, not stuck waiting by gates for stolen monts. I feel guilty about it constantly."
"It doesn’t matter, Valentine. As long as I get even five minutes with you, it’s worth all the waiting and suffering. Besides, I truly believe that fate wouldn’t have brought our hearts together so perfectly just to tear us apart."
"You always know what to say to give hope. I need that from you, Maximilian."
"But why do you have to leave so soon?"
"I don’t know all the details. Mada de Villefort sent for , she said she has news about sothing that affects my inheritance. Honestly, they can have my money. I’m already too rich anyway. Maybe if they take it, they’ll finally leave alone. You’d still love if I were poor, wouldn’t you?"
"I’ll love you no matter what. I don’t care about money as long as you’re with . But Valentine, you don’t think this eting is about your engagent, do you?"
"I don’t think so."
"Whatever it is, don’t be scared. I promise you, as long as I’m alive, I’ll never love anyone else."
"That’s supposed to reassure ?" Valentine said with a sad smile.
"You’re right, sorry. That ca out wrong. What I wanted to tell you is that I ran into Albert de Morcerf the other day."
"And?"
"Franz is his friend, you know."
"So?"
"Albert received a letter from Franz. He’s coming back soon."
Valentine’s face went pale. She gripped the gate for support.
"Oh god. What if that’s what she wants to talk about? But no, if it were about the engagent, it wouldn’t co through Mada de Villefort."
"Why not?"
"Because... I’m not entirely sure, but I’ve gotten the feeling that she secretly doesn’t want to get married, even though she won’t openly oppose it."
"Really? Then I could kiss the ground she walks on."
"Don’t be so quick to praise her," Valentine warned. "If she opposes marrying Franz, she’d be just as likely to oppose marrying anyone else."
"Wait, does she object to you having suitors, or to marriage itself?"
"Marriage itself."
"But then why did she get married?"
"You don’t understand. About a year ago, I talked about becoming a nun. Despite making all the proper objections, Mada de Villefort secretly approved. My father would have agreed too, except for one thing, my grandfather. You can’t imagine the look in that old man’s eyes when he watches . I’m the only person in the world he loves, and maybe the only one who truly loves him back. When I told him my plan to join a convent, the reproach in his eyes and the tears rolling down his paralyzed face... Maximilian, I felt such guilt in that mont that I threw myself at his feet and swore: ’Forgive , Grandfather. They can do whatever they want to . I’ll never leave you.’ He couldn’t speak, but he looked at heaven with such gratitude. No matter what I have to suffer, that look makes it all worthwhile."
"You’re an angel, Valentine. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, maybe all those battles I fought count for sothing. But tell , why would Mada de Villefort want you to stay unmarried?"
"Didn’t I ntion I’m rich? Too rich, actually. I have about fifty thousand livres from my mother. My grandparents will leave just as much. And my grandfather Noirtier clearly intends to make his heir. My brother Edward doesn’t inherit anything from his mother, so he’ll be poor compared to . If I’d beco a nun, all my money would have gone to my father, and eventually to Edward."
"It’s strange that such a young, beautiful woman could be so greedy."
"She’s not greedy for herself, it’s for her son. When you look at it as a mother’s love, it’s almost admirable."
"Couldn’t you just give up part of your fortune to Edward?"
"How could I suggest that to a woman who always acts like money ans nothing to her?"
"Valentine, I’ve always treated our love as sothing sacred. I’ve kept it private and protected, hidden even from my sister. But... would you let tell soone about us? Soone I trust?"
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