“You have to go. You cannot allow him to capture you.” We stood outside on the streets of Paris. Jeremiah pointed at Notre de Paris. “He is in there.”
People were celebrating in the streets and I saw flags being waved and children running toward the cathedral. I could not pinpoint the date, but I did not need to. From the front of Notre Dame, the assemblage began to stream out. Hundreds of bishops and dignitaries were here to witness the emperor being crowned. I nodded and reached again for Jeremiah’s hand and then we were attacked.
“Vous êtes à moi.” A voice pounded itself into our head and we fell back against the wall of the house we stood against. “You are mine.” The words were repeated with force and intent.
“Go. You must go.” Jeremiah grabbed my hand and I turned away from him and
