That night, Madame Dumas could not sleep. Lying in the dark with her eyes wide open, she was determined to make her daughter, Mylova, see reason.
An hour later, moving with practiced silence, the young girl gripped the window frame and quietly climbed back into her bedroom. She thought she had gone unnoticed — but the moment her foot touched the floor, the bedside lamp flicked on. Her mother was there, standing straight, wide awake, waiting for her.
Stunned, caught in the act, Mylova froze. She no longer knew what to say or do.
— So this is how you leave the house in secret, even after I explicitly told you to stay? Madame Dumas said, her tone icy.
— Mother, you're wasting your time trying to make me forget Louis… And who's to say I would be happier with someone else? replied Mylova, her voice trembling but determined.
— Everyone finds happiness with the partner chosen by the Abbey. I don't see why you should be the exception.
— Dear Mother, what if my soulmate is him? What if Louis is the one God destined for me? He's the one who makes me feel whole.
— That is for our abbot to decide. Which is why, starting tomorrow, you will go live at the Abbey for the month you have left before you come of age. You will follow the preparation, just like every other young woman.
— Excuse me?! You want to send me to live there?! With those so-called "servants of God" who believe they can dictate who we're allowed to love?! I refuse! I will not spend a month under their roof!
— Those "people," as you call them, are messengers of the Lord, and everyone on this earth must obey the laws of Christ. Our family will not be the one to break this rule!
— The only divine laws I know are the Ten Commandments — and I don't recall reading that loving freely is a sin.
— That's enough! snapped Madame Dumas, her voice shaking with anger. I've been patient, far too patient with you, Mylova Dumas. Who do you think you are? You're still just a child! This law has existed for generations — long before your great-great-great-grandparents were born! And you certainly won't be the one to change it.
No sooner had she spoken these words than Monsieur Dumas entered, drawn by the raised voices.
— What's going on here? I just got back from work, and I could hear you from downstairs!
— Father! Mother wants to send me to the Abbey for a month, supposedly to teach me religious life and obedience.
— Céleste, he said calmly, turning to his wife, we've talked about this. If she's happy with this boy, why stop her?
— Are you joking? And what if they argued one day? What if he lost his temper? They would have broken divine law by uniting without the Church's blessing!
— For heaven's sake, Céleste! he exclaimed. Our daughter is in love. And she's happier than she's ever been. Don't you think she might have already found the one meant for her?
— You're taking her side now? And yet you agreed to meet your soulmate at the required age.
— No, Céleste. I didn't meet just anyone. I met the one my heart had always belonged to. You.
— We're not talking about us, we're talking about Mylova, who's infatuated with a boy who isn't even her intended!
— And so what?
— And so… I don't want her to make the same mistake I did.
A heavy silence fell. All eyes turned to Madame Dumas, who was suddenly trembling.
— W-what mistake are you talking about, Mother? asked Mylova softly.
She lowered her gaze. There was no turning back now. The secret she had sworn to take to her grave was about to be revealed.
— Your father was not my first love… she murmured. When I was your age, I was seeing a boy. His name was Claude. We loved each other in secret. When we turned eighteen, during the union ceremony, they discovered my heart already belonged to someone. They called our love heresy — the work of the devil. To them, loving without their approval was an affront to the divine.
Her voice quivered as tears rose.
— They demanded that one of us be sacrificed… so the other could be purified and joined to a chosen partner. Claude… he offered himself to their wrath. He chose to die, to save me.
A long silence settled before she continued, her voice still trembling but steadier now:
— Please, Mylova. I want to spare you the pain I've carried my whole life. You have one month before you come of age. Go to the Abbey. See the abbot. If you truly love Louis, then forget him. Protect him. Save him from this fate.
She placed a hand over her heart.
— I was lucky, in a way. Because with your father… sometimes, I feel like I'm still with him.
A quiet sob escaped Mylova.
— Forget him, my daughter. And he will live.