The Throne of Broken Hearts

ELOISE The breeze blew through the window up to my face tossing up my hair like a curious child with a new toy. I sat by my chamber windows watching the birds sing songs only they understood. Then as if in need of a new plot the Northern chapel Bells Rang…Annie was getting married today. I pictured my younger sister's face glowing brightly, radiant while wearing the family wedding dress, a gown that has been passed down from generations. A little part of me felt guilty for missing the wedding but the other part of me felt numb to every other thing. I could hear the muted cheers, the soft shuffle of guests, and somewhere in the distance, the faint strum of harps announcing her vows all seemingly joining hands to remind me of the life I could never have. I need to do something or…. I pressed my hands against the mahogany window frame and stared at the grey clouds drifting over the Auvergne hills, the light breeze mocking me with its constant touch. The river mirrored the dull sky, its calm surface taunting me with its serenity. He’s gone, the thought came like birds coming out of hiding after a heavy rainfall,I thought to the silence. André is gone. My chest felt constricted and my ability to breathe eluded me and no wedding, no applause, could undo the weight that pressed against my chest. I walked to the bed, wondering how long the manor would mourn for me if I drowned in the bathroom “ probably not for long” I muttered while looking up at the ceiling. A soft knock at the door pulled me from my reverie. “ Ma cheré”, my mother said, stepping inside with gentle hesitation, “ You should at least see her one last time before she goes at least remember your relationship Éloise, you are sisters”. I felt annoyed at my Mama's insensitivity,I shook my head, keeping my voice low, distant “Annie is not dying Mama… she is getting married for Heaven's sake, I can’t. Not today”. I wanted to scream and cry but all I felt was a stabbing ache in my chest that refused to bloody leave. Her eyes softened, full of a kindness I wanted to believe could reach me. “I know it’s difficult… but life doesn’t stop for grief, ma chère.”I faced her with tears in my eyes — of course I knew, but it did nothing to quench the grief, why should everyone else be happy while he laid six feet under, decaying and providing company to the demons of the afterlife. Before I could answer, the door burst open. Papa's booming voice filled the room like a cannon shot, leaving echoes on the stairways and corridor, “You must let go of him, Éloise!. Let go of the priest, He’s dead!. I never meant for you to marry him anyway!.” Anger and helplessness clashed inside me. I wanted to argue, to tell him he didn’t understand, that no one ever would, but the words lodged in my throat. The tears that had pooled around my eyes previously seemed to have dried up immediately, I've realized that no one would understand. I stood up and adjusted my gown, “ Let's go tell Annie goodbye Mama”I said walking out of my Chambers, leaving Papa to his own devices. The rest of the afternoon felt like a blur, a myriad of colors and emotions, the air of Auvergne thick with humidity. I sat on the hammock by the garden looking out from the hills on which the manor was built. This was one of his favorite spots. I had realized he truly loved me when he would spend his evenings with me on this same hammock despite my father's disapproval of him. I remained in my dazed state till the house manager came to inform me of dinner, walking up the grand staircase. I dreaded meeting Papa after my disobedience this afternoon, I passed the corridors, my skirts brushing the cold stone, my heart heavy with each step. The banquet area was quite grand, though not as grand as the ones at the balls Annie and I had previously attended,but it was not far behind. I sat on my chair, my father’s sharp gaze trailing my actions, unyielding. I had barely taken any spoons from my soup when Papa spoke “You are twenty,” he said, each word punctuated by command. “It is time. Time to marry, to move forward. Forget him!” He did not shout as earlier but one could not deny the authority in his voice. “Papa I…”, I started but I genuinely had nothing to say, nothing could change. I sighed, “ Papa I need more time, it's impossible to let go so quickly”. I looked at Mama who lowered her head into food — she had never been able to talk back to him. “ I knew he was nothing but trouble the moment he stepped into this house, acting all high and mighty while running around with you. And then to top it all, the bloody bastard caught the buboes La Peste".His voice boomed “He had the damned audacity to die in my house…”. But I didn't hear anything anymore, I couldn't. I clenched my fists, swallowed my outrage, and turned on my heel. The banquet room faded behind me as I ran through the house to the music room — my sanctuary, my world apart from the relentless reality of court. There she was, the caretaker of André who came with him from up north — still here even after his death. I ran into her arms “ Tante… I have to die, I need to die”. She gave me a small, understanding smile. “Play,” she whispered. “Let the music speak.” I sat at the keys, the cool ivory beneath my fingers grounding me. Slowly, I played; every chord a sigh, every pause a breath I didn’t know I had been holding.My fingers gently plucking on the strings on the harpsichord, I tried to swallow the grief I felt, but it was nearly impossible to do. The pressure on my heart became unbearable and my hand began plucking at the strings harder,letting the notes carry my grief, my anger, my longing. I felt raw, like new born chicks open to new air. The notes filled the manor — a silent riposte to my sorrow. My lips, trembling with tears, I refused to let down. The caretaker watched me. “ Sing” she urged, I did. It began as a croak and then grew to encompass the pain I felt: Voilà qui je suis… me voilà, même si… mise à nu,j’ai peur… me voilà dans le bruit… et dans le silence… regardez moi. The music wrapped around me, and for the first time since Andé’s passing, I felt… almost free. Almost able to breathe.