“You must try these. They are the best chocolates in the world. The Cloverfield family was nothing before these. Three generations later and the Cloverfields are the lead producers for food in the country. You are meeting the owner soon, and you need to eat these first. Very expensive.”
I’d never been a huge chocolate fan. I liked it okay, but it was really a ‘sometimes and only if I was in the mood’ kind of food for me, but I could tell Manon was going nowhere until I sampled, so I popped one into my mouth.
My life changed! Every taste bud in my mouth exploded in delight. I was in love. It ruined my life and heart. When I finally met this Cloverfield fellow, I would beg for his hand in marriage and have him spend the rest of his life making chocolates. No wonder he had women throwing themselves at him.
“I’ll give you a moment with the chocolates. The rest of the gifts are as good. I must get ready for tonight. I am performing in Boston. Now, open your presents. I will see you tomorrow.”
“You’re leaving?” I had had fun walking about with Manon. To be honest, I was done with sitting alone in my room.
“I will be around,” she said.
I sat in my room for another ten minutes, staring at the presents and demolishing the box of chocolates. It had been a decent day, and while I still missed my family, I was mentally in a much better place. Enzo was on the case, and I was confident he’d help me find the necklace. Next time I saw Doc I planned to discuss Grandma. Meanwhile, I decided to visit the best room in L’Autre Bête.
A ballroom needs to be danced in; this was a simple fact. I flung open the doors. If ever I had a princess fantasy, this room was it. I shut the door behind me. I kicked off my shoes and did what any reasonable person does in such a situation; I ran and slid right into the middle of the room. A song played in my head, and I danced. I spun, I leapt. As if I was alone in my bedroom, I danced every move I knew without fear of judgement. I caught my reflection in the window, my skirt swirling behind me. Not graceful or beautiful but I didn’t care. I was having too much fun. I changed dancing styles, and I was a girl from a musical so hopelessly in love all I wanted to do was dance.
This room should be mine, I thought. All mine. I’d dance here every day. Forget everything Enzo had planned, operas and dinners. I’d live right there. Forget filling the room, let it stay forever empty. I’d roll out a sleeping bag at night, roll it up when I wasn’t using it, and dance the rest of the time away.
The music changed in my head to a waltz, and I stopped in the middle of the floor and put my hand to my heart.
“Prince of France, would you care to dance?” I gave a little curtsy. “Why not? I believe you know my grandmother.” I lifted my hand for him to take. “Such a gentleman.” I followed him to the dance floor and pirouetted.
We began our waltz, one, two three, one, two three. “You recognize the ring? Well, yes, it is now a family heirloom.”
One, two, three, one, two, three. In my mind, I saw the back of the ordinary head. One, two three, one, two three. The ordinary head turned around, a shadow obscuring his face. One, two three, one, two three. I spun on the floor and suddenly the perfect head wasn’t in my mind. He was standing in the ballroom’s doorway, shadow covering his face.
For a second, I closed my eyes from sheer embarrassment and heard nothing but my breathing. When I opened my eyes, he wasn’t at the door. There was no way the man could have disappeared that fast without making a sound. I must’ve merely imagined he was in the doorway because I felt no calmer. If it were him, I would’ve felt better. Still, the dance spell was broken for the day as I realized how ridiculous I must have looked to anyone passing by. I grabbed my shoes and bolted out the nearest door.
I expected to exit to the hallway, so it surprised me to find myself in a long, open gallery. Manon must have missed this room on our tour. A nearby painting showed a crowd of people bowing to a woman with gray eyes who was being crowned queen. Coronation of Queen Mathilde Ana Merric, 1845. The next painting over was Queen Charlotte Alice from 1878. Same gray eyes. A gray-eyed man surrounded by a pack of dogs of varying breeds followed this painting. Regent Drenthe Merric 1872. The Merric‘s had filled the whole room with portraits of the family. The women were all pictured with their husbands and families. The male Merrics posed with animals.
The door opened, and Doc came into the room. He didn’t notice me. He went directly to a painting halfway into the room.
I went over to him. “Hello, Doc.”
He jumped a bit. “Oh, sorry, Waverly. I didn’t see you. I was examining this painting.” He pointed to the portrait of a man and woman. “Notice anything special?”
The man had gray eyes, same as the woman’s and he was the first Merric man I noticed not surrounded by animals. “They both have gray eyes.”
“Yes, these are your great-great-great-great-great grandparents, Laurel and Robert.”
Under the plaque, someone had written a big fat zero, and the words ‘kissing cousins make you weak’.
“So they were cousins. That’s so gross.”
Doc was surprised. “Yes, how did you know? Was it the eyes?”
“No, it says so under the plaque.”
Doc scrunched up his eyes. “Oh, no. Never noticed that before. Oh well, most families have wedded cousins some place in their history.”
“Are
