Page 13 of Only You
He waited for the look of pity or for her to insist on picking a name for him as so many had done over the years.
Instead, she said, ‘That’s… commendable.’
He tilted his head. ‘How so?’
‘Some men are so defeated in life they won’t even claim their name.’ ‘Have you encountered men like that?’
‘Almost…’ She paused at the window of a dress shop. It was adorned with dresses of all the latest styles in vibrant colours, beckoning them inside. Sabine seemed particularly mesmerised by the deep blue one off to the side.
‘My father seemed to be that way after my mother died,’ she said suddenly. ‘Many didn’t know they were in love or even married, though I found it obvious. I once hoped for a love as deep as theirs but now… seeing how destroyed my father was after she passed, I don’t know if I could bear it.’
Damien was silent, having trouble picturing Kwame in such a state. The man’s only leeway seemed to be with Sabine and even she had only so much sway.
‘I wish I understood,’ Sabine admitted. ‘It seems as though he would cast away the world for her. Even now, I feel as though his involvement in giving our country to the French seems to be in dedication to her. How can you be so captivated by someone? How can they rule your thoughts so effortlessly, even when they’re gone?’
How indeed, he pondered as he stared into her forlorn eyes. He couldn’t imagine loving someone more than a few nights, much less a lifetime and beyond.
‘I’m sure that’s a mystery that has been pondered for centuries,’ Damien said finally. ‘Lucky for you, people don’t expect it of you. Many would prefer that you don’t give in to such folly.’
Sabine smiled but didn’t seem reassured by the words. ‘Yes. That’s the right thing to do.’
The wistfulness in Sabine’s voice made Damien curious. An interesting story laid there, waiting to be asked about. Words scratched at the back of his throat, itching to deepen the conversation, but he bit them back. It was neither the time nor the place and he had already risked enough.
Still, he didn’t step back as he asked her, ‘Have you received any word from your father?’
‘Yes. He has met with the Bassam kings once more. There’s some unrest in the city—’
‘Tell me the best part,’ he interjected. It wasn’t her first time receiving a letter from her father. It was always a summary of business, which Sabine would read aloud so he could update General Roulet. However, the last paragraph was just for Sabine, to update her on what was happening at home. That was his favourite part, the snippets giving him a glimpse of a different world. They seemed to be hers as well as he watched a smile slowly spread across her face, her eyes lighting up as she reminisced.
‘He saw my grandmother,’ she told him. ‘He had arrived just in time for my cousin’s first child be born and they had a huge feast to celebrate. I’m jealous. I’ve craved my grandmother’s kedjenou since I read his letter.’
Damien watched her shoulders relax for the first time since they left the house and felt relieved before letting himself fall under the spell of her story of a world far, far away.
Today, for one moment, the grim reality could wait.
‘Kwame will be back from the Ivory Coast in a few days.’
General Roulet and Damien were in the general’s home study, standing on opposite sides of the general’s desk. The room was the exact opposite of the rest of the house, which was bright and welcoming. The walls were sapphire blue, books and charts filled the space, hiding away secrets. Some were keys to victories while others were notes on defeats. Roulet had allowed Damien to peruse the books at his leisure, but Damien had little patience for battle strategy, much to the general’s disappointment. But Damien treated that the same way he treated the lingering concern in Roulet’s eyes over the years; he ignored it.
‘He and Sabine will be attending several parties over the next week,’ Roulet continued. ‘They have a few allies here but are looking for more, so there will definitely be plenty of mingling.’
Roulet pored over papers while Damien waited for instructions, his eyes glancing at proclamations and tactics he wouldn’t be a part of due to his post. Damien felt his restlessness surge up. His hands itched for a sword, ready for battle. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly; he had to prepare for another battle, one harder for him to comprehend.
‘The party is fully staffed, but Kwame wants someone to keep a close eye on Sabine,’ he continued. ‘He wants to ensure she’s only connecting with the correct guests.’
‘I’ll make sure of that,’ Damien reassured him.
Roulet hummed, looking at him critically; he waited. ‘You seem better. Much calmer.’
‘Sabine insists on being active. Keeps away the boredom,’ he replied, which was true.
‘As long as no boundaries are being crossed…’ Roulet looked at him sharply, and Damien stopped himself from exhaling in exasperation.
‘I’ve kept my word. She is safe and well. Anduntouched.’
‘Good.’ Roulet seemed to hesitate before speaking again. ‘I hope you understand that while this is a favour for a good friend, I do worry about you.’
There was a softness in Roulet’s gaze that always made Damien uncomfortable. He had been unable to place it when he was younger, often flitting between the barracks and the general’s home. Now, he was well acquainted with the worry-prideful mix that lingered in Roulet’s eyes.
