The Library of Light and Shadow by M. J. Rose

Author:M. J. Rose [Rose, M. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2017-07-17T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 27

Book of Hours

July 22, 1920

Mathieu shows me his secret Paris but keeps secret parts of himself locked away. I can’t bear to see his suffering. What is it that plagues him so that he won’t even allow himself to talk of it? What secrets hide behind the barricade he’s erected? I’m tempted to offer to draw his shadow portrait. Maybe I can help save him from the darkness that I can see he battles, even though he thinks he’s hiding it from me.

As we walked toward Notre Dame today, Mathieu stopped at various shops. By the time we arrived at our destination, the Square du Vert-Galant at the tip of the Île de la Cité, we had gathered a feast: a bottle of wine, peaches, cheese, and a fresh baguette.

Sensing that Mathieu’s emotional block had to do with his brother’s death, I decided to try to get him to talk more about Maximilian and asked what he’d been like. At first, he hesitated, and I thought he was going to refuse. But then, with a sigh of resignation, he turned his head, looked out at the flowing river, and began.

“Max was six years older than I. A student of history. I told you he was going to be a professor at the Sorbonne, didn’t I? When I was small, he used to take me all over Paris, showing me the important landmarks, telling me stories. He once said that history was soaked into the earth beneath every step we took.”

Mathieu picked up my hand and held it. If I could have willed him healed, I would have. I sensed the break in his soul again and wondered if it would ever mend.

Then he let go, pulled the cork out of the wine, and handed me the bottle. I took a sip and handed it back to him.

“Right here, for instance.” He gestured to the park around us. “This spot was created by King Henri IV. A most amorous ruler. They called him Le Vert-Galant—the grand spark—and his sexual exploits were notorious. His appetite insatiable. He kept several mistresses at a time and still visited brothels.”

“Why was this spot named for him?” I asked.

“He loved the view and thought it very romantic. But as for what went on here? You’d have to get the trees to tell you. Can you call upon your magick to make them give up their secrets?”

I’ve confided more to Mathieu about my abilities than to anyone outside my family. I have no reason but instinct to trust him, and I hope I’m not making a mistake. Yet each time I see him, each hour we spend together, deepens my conviction.

We ate the bread and cheese and fruit. When we were finished, we drank more of the wine, and Mathieu licked its remains off my lips.

Then, as we sat and looked out at the Seine, clouds rolled across the sky, and a storm blew in. When the rain came, we took shelter and huddled beneath a chestnut tree, the water releasing the leaves’ sweet smell.

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