~1865~

When Claire finally reached the shores of France, she was more than a little taken by the beauty of the French coast. She took it all in in awe as she looked around, awaiting whoever was being sent to take her to Lemuel’s haven upon her arrival. Though her wait was not long, as she was soon jarred from her admiration for all the beauty around her when an ornate carriage pulled up to meet her.

A rather unhappy looking man stepped down from the front of the carriage to offer her a somewhat stiff bow in greeting. “Bonsoir, ma dame. Je suppose que vous êtes ici pour voir le prince?”

Having to remember how to call upon an ability she had rarely used since first meeting Nicolas, Claire simply smiled and curtsied before responding, “yes, I am here to see the Prince” she affirmed, assuming the man must indeed have been sent there by Lemuel to greet her. She watched as he silently took what few belongings she had brought with her. After all, Lemuel assured her that all her needs would be met as a guest in his home. She nonetheless still felt the need to speak further with the man as he loaded them onto the carriage. “I’m afraid though that while I do understand French, to an extent, I’m quite terrible at speaking it, myself” she explained apologetically, sure he must be able to understand her own tongue if Lemuel had chosen him to greet her.

He allowed only a slight scoff, “the carriage will be taking you to the train” he told her in a thick French accent as he opened the door to allow her to take a seat inside.

“A train?” Claire’s eyes lit up at the prospect as she moved to take her seat. She had heard much about this impressive new form of transportation, but oddly it was one of the few things she had yet to experience herself in her long life.

Though not seeming interested in that further conversation with her, he simply closed the door after her and almost immediately got back up into his seat and spurred the horses back into motion. She sighed softly at his utter lack of even the pretense of having a conversation with her, but it still did not dampen her excitement to see this new land. It was true that she still had many underlying fears about her impending reunion with Nicolas. Especially when it was a reunion that would be taking place in a land that, though beautiful, held nothing but terror for him.

When they did arrive at the waiting train, the servant quickly herded her and her things onto the massive iron beast and informed, “the prince is waiting on the train. Good evening.” And with that, he offered her another stiff bow before moving back to the carriage without another word or even look back her way.

She shook her head again at his manner, but was still in awe of the vehicle she now found herself inside. She was also rather surprised that Lemuel would actually be waiting there on the train for her. It did seem a slightly strange place for them to have their own reunion, if one could even call it much of one, considering most of her conversations with him since first meeting him on her last trip overseas had all been in her mind.

She made her feet nervously carry her toward the passenger car the servant had gestured to, and took a moment to compose herself before moving through the door to greet Lemuel for only the second time she had ever even been in the same room as him at all, all those years ago.

Only when she did step inside, she was a bit taken aback to not find Lemuel there at all. Her confusion was obvious as she looked about, taking note of the only other person seated there in the car. He was a relatively handsome young man, who looked to be barely twenty years of age, if that. And he was actually a human. An unbound human at that.

As the train pulled into motion, startling her and nearly knocking her off balance at the unexpectedness of it, she needed another moment to regain her composure, and take a quick seat across from her companion to avoid any more embarrassment. She took another long look at him to try and determine what it was she was even seeing in his aura, as there seemed to be several emotions present, each taking turns at being the dominant one right then.

But as he was human, Claire did not feel threatened as much as confused by his presence and the whole of the strange evening, to be honest. “I was told the Prince was to meet me in here?” she offered him quietly in a questioning tone as he turned dark brown eyes to her under a mop of long black curls that nearly reached his shoulders above well-tailored clothes, which made it unlikely that he was another servant at any rate.

Her companion had to take a moment to push past that awe that Claire inspired in all mortals without even trying to do so. He then remembered that she had offered a question of sorts, which was to be expected. But then he seemed to take note of another oddity about her before remembering to offer some response of his own, “Batholomieu loves that joke,” he scoffed slightly, his own accent less pronounced than the servant’s had been. He then narrowed his eyes at the further confusion that took up residence on her pretty face at his statement. He then added, “So I realize you’re not from this lovely country, but that is a rather strange accent.”

As most Americans did, Claire often never even considered herself to have an accent until it was pointed out to her. But that was by far the least concerning aspect of the entire evening right then. “I take it Bartholomieu is the man who brought me here? And I assume you must have expected me, seeing as you were waiting in here. So you must have some idea of who I am. Which does put me at a disadvantage here.” She kept her tone polite though, as the most apparent emotions in his aura were discomfort, worry, unease, nervousness, apprehension and a slight furtiveness to all his words and tone that did do well to put her on guard a bit.

He narrowed those impossibly dark eyes at her once again, as though he were trying to see inside her mind as well, despite the fact that she had yet to meet any mortal with that ability in two and half centuries.

“You’re saying you don’t know who I am?” he shook his head in surprise, “I assume they at least told you why you were being sent here?” he had to add with further disbelief hardening his tone slightly.

Claire shook her head once more, “I think I must be missing something here. I came to France to meet with ...a Prince.” She left it at that before quickly moving on, as unbound humans were not even aware that there even was another entire system of government that had been around even longer than their own. “I assumed that was his servant bringing me to this train tonight.”

He scoffed once more, “The only prince in this godawful country is nine years old” he then added more quietly, almost bitterly, “and my half-brother.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“What?” Claire was caught once more.

“They told you nothing else did they?” he returned with further disbelief as he sat back in his seat with another shake of his head.

“They?” Claire returned, only further confused by this infamous they that he had now mentioned again.

“They sent you here to meet a prince. You said as much. It’s funny, if a bit insulting that they would use that to get you to agree. After all, we all know that I’m no prince until...” he just shook his head as he glanced out the tiny window near his seat as the beautiful nighttime scenery passed by outside.

Claire took a long moment to try and dissect his statements while keeping the truth of who she was and who she was to meet a secret. Dealing with an unbound mortal who knew nothing of her world was something she was not expecting in any way upon her arrival there.

“I’m not sure we’re talking about the same prince” she managed, though quietly.

He scoffed once more, “as I said, my so-called brother is the only prince here, prince imperial to be exact” he explained once more.

Claire just shook her head, knowing better than to try to further explain the Prince she had come seeking. Instead, she decided to try and unravel more of the mystery of who her companion even was, and more importantly, who he thought she was.

“So, if they told me nothing” she began, “then why don’t you tell me who it is you think I am and why I’m here? Not to mention who you are” she added more quietly.

He shook his head again, “they didn’t even tell you my name? Why am I not surprised?” he scoffed, “it’s Eliot.” he then added, “Eliot Howard, or Eliot Bonaparte, depending on who you ask” he informed further with slight bitterness.

“Bonaparte?” Claire raised a brow.

“Not that one” he scoffed again, “that one was my father’s uncle. My great uncle, technically.” He then looked back her way, “so it seems you do know more about us then you let on after all?” he called her on her reaction to the surname.

“Everyone knows about that Bonaparte” she told him quietly as she looked away.

“I’m sure he would be very thrilled to hear that” he stated with that same obvious distaste for his own relatives, even those who had died years earlier.

“All right” she moved on, “so who is it that I’m supposed to be again?”

“Seems that is a question you should know the answer to already” he added with the slightest smirk.

“Humor me” she mumbled.

“Some daughter of some noble sent off to marry some alleged prince?” he offered with a slight sarcasm.

“Marry?” Claire couldn’t help catching that part of the sentence.

“Isn’t that what you were born for? I’m sure your parents made you quite aware of that all your life. Sheltered as it must have been” he added as his eyes moved over her again, once more looking as though he were trying to see inside her head.

“You seem to have quite the opinion of nobility, considering your father’s... the king?” she offered.

“Emperor actually.” He shook his head once more at her seeming ignorance of anything about his family, not to mention their government itself. But before she could retort, “and I’m only his bastard son. I’m not actually nobility. As much as they’d all like to try and pretend otherwise now, considering” he finished, his voice dropping at the end of the sentence.

“Considering?” Claire prodded, though quietly.

Eliot then leaned forward in the seat, with continued disbelief, “what did they tell you at all, honestly?” he had to ask.

Claire stalled another moment, not sure what to say in response to that. It was true that she could simply tell him that he was mistaking her for someone else. However, she knew that would only lead to many, many questions about herself that she knew she couldn’t give any real answers to. She was stuck, to put it mildly. And stuck on a moving train going who knows where with a stranger at that, she couldn’t help reminding herself.

“That much, hmm?” he returned with sarcasm in response to her giving no answer to his last question.

Taking another long moment to try and find some response, Claire finally tried a slight subject change, “where is this train going, anyway?”

“Where did you think it was going when you boarded it?” he returned.

Trying to bite down her frustration at his refusal to simply answer the question, she gave in to giving her own, “Paris?”

“Not there” he answered her shortly.

Claire just shook her head as he obstinately refused to elaborate. “Isn’t that where your father is?”

“Exactly” he responded with further bitterness.

“But I’m getting the impression that you thought I was sent here to.... marry you or something?” she dared.

“I thought that much was apparent” he returned.

Claire shook her head with further confusion and discomfort, “then why wouldn’t we be going to Paris?”

He gave her an almost amused look which did not seem to amuse Claire in any way herself. He finally replied, “what part of our entire conversation ever gave you the impression that I have any intention of doing what my father wants me to do?”

Claire blinked at that response, only seeing the obviousness now that he had stated it aloud. Though it still didn’t solve the immediate problem facing her. She took another moment, “all right, so you don’t want to marry me?”

“A moment ago you seemed surprised that that was even the plan. You are as strange as your accent” he told her bluntly.

Claire took another moment to try to calm herself as she couldn’t help glancing toward the small window on her own side of the car, not sure where it was even taking her, and that thought was not helping to achieve that calm one bit. Nor was his stubbornness, condescension, amusement, and growing curiosity about her.

“So, you don’t want to marry me, and I didn’t even know that that’s why you thought I was here. So what’s the problem? There will be no marriage, I promise. Now can you please help me figure out how I’m to get back to Paris?” she asked with a slight raise of her voice.

“So you want me to help you?”

Claire let out another sound of annoyance, “it would be the princely thing to do” she told him wryly.

“I’m no prince” he returned with a smirk.

“Would you please just help me get back to where I was going?” she asked desperately, half tempted to force him to help her at this point.

“So you don’t want to marry me either?” Eliot asked seemingly at random.

Claire’s own frustration was obvious at that point then, “I’m obviously not who you thought I was, so of course I don’t want to marry you. I don’t even know you!”

“Like that’s ever stopped a marriage before” Eliot scoffed.

Claire then groaned in annoyance as she ran her pale hands through her hair much the way her actual husband did when he became stressed. “I’m not whoever this noble betrothed of yours was, obviously. I’m not noble, we’re not betrothed, and I’m not even from this side of the Atlantic. I came here to see someone who is currently probably wondering where I am by now. And I would not recommend making him worry that I’ve been abducted by you and your manservant. So please, just help me get back to where I need to be before he does assume that that’s what has happened!” she complained more loudly.

Eliot then allowed a softer sigh, perhaps her supernatural magnetism was affecting him after all at this point. He then spoke more gently, “I would like to help you...”

“But?” she retorted.

“If you are not truly the woman I was meant to meet with tonight, then that means that she and her noble dowry are still waiting for me. And me returning to Paris at all, I would likely be forced at gun point to walk down that aisle with her the moment I arrived. And that will not help me, at all” he informed with another deep sigh. “The entire reason you were escorted onto this train tonight was my attempt to avoid this marriage once and for all. And if you are not the woman I was to marry, then it seems my plan has failed” he added with what almost sounded like despair.

That was when Claire sighed in defeat as she buried her face in her hands, not sure how she would honestly get back to where she needed to be before Lemuel made some very drastic attempt to locate her after all.

Eliot watched her a moment before he spoke once more, “but if you could help me, then maybe I could help you after all.”