Annette: The Gathering Masses

Clara and I watch as the men trickle from the parlor, going their own way. I tightened my jaw, a slight anger flaring up at our exclusion from the meeting. Where we not part of the Blanche as well? What had I then devoted the past years of my life to?

I calmed myself slightly, though furious thoughts keep spinning away in my mind. "Hommes stupides!" Stupid men, spats Clara, her expression formed into the same rage as mine, though perhaps even more elevated.

I put my hand on her arm, as if to calm the both of us, "Quiet, they will hear you."

"Who cares!" Clara says even louder, shrugging off my hand. "They act so pompous, as if we have seen or done nothing, just because we are the opposite sex."

"I know, Clara," I murmur. "Here, let us go to the library, perhaps we may dig up some information of our own."

She followed me there, though her face was still set in it's hard, furious expression. In the fading evening, I light a few of the candles about the room, snatching an armful of maps and sorts off the shelves and spreading them across the table. "We shall have our own meeting. It is very possible that we will discover more than them. More probable they get drunk and babble things nothing of any worth."

We spent much time scouring over the papers, though my mind lingered on the exchange Guillame and I shared outside and the where-abouts of Marie. It was not long before Clara appeared to be dipping off, even though her fighting spirit tried it's best to stay awake. I urged her to head off to sleep, that I would soon follow. Though she protested mildly, she finally stood and shuffled away to her chambers.

I attempted to read for a while longer, yet I soon drifted to sleep, my head falling onto the table and my mind slipping into the darkness of dreams.


My lashes fluttered open, dappled sunlight drifting through the window and onto my face. I lay atop my mattress, wearing my day clothes. It took a moment of confusion to recall the memory, seeming distant and far-away, of Guillame and Emmanuel entering the room, muttering amongst themselves, and the former taking me into his arms and to my bedroom.

Somewhat sore, I slipped off the mattress fixing my mussed hair and straightening the wrinkles of my skirt. Washing my face in the chilly water of the basin, sleep was slapped from my face and I made my way down to the dining area, a slight murmur of conversation heard.

I curtsied slightly as I entered, taking my seat beside Clara. Richard Gaines sat at the table. I flicked my eyes to him, he stared with his same, stony boredom, his dark eyes remaining on me. Least of all, I disliked him. I turned my gaze to Guillame, and when I realized he too was looking over me I colored slightly, averting my eyes to my breakfast and beginning to pick at it. Marie was still absent, which sent a pang of worry through me, but at my mention of it it appeared the subject had already been discussed and someone had been sent to find her. Though Guillame appeared uncomfortably concerned, attempting to excuse himself to search for her. Victor dismissed it, assuring him that if anyone could find her, it would be Xavier.

It was not long before Victor Montez stood, "It appears that many of you are complete. If you do not mind, would you escort me to the library? There is something quite curious that I would like you to look over."

Clara and I went to stand, yet Victor stopped us, "Madam Annette, it appears you have not finished your breakfast. And I am sure she would enjoy your company, Clara, as she finishes."

Before we could reply, they had once again separated from us. I clenched my fork, sitting it down with unusual force that even Clara looked at me with a slight suprised. I sighed, composing myself, as I stood. "Let us walk outdoors."

Silently, Clara and I made our way to the door and out onto the road. We wove our way from the residential avenues to more public places, though we both realized the throbs of people, many of which were women, crowding into the street from houses and walking with a certain purpose.

"It looks like something is going on," Clara muttered as we both quickened our pace, following the streams of people toward the center of Versailles.

The End

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