GISELLE

When Giselle was a little girl, she went to religion classes. It was common, especially for a girl of noble blood. The priest used to tell them engaging stories and Giselle thoroughly enjoyed that. One of his tales, left a permanent trail in Giselle's memory. He used to say: "the Devil is greedy. The Devil knows you're about to sin and he thrives in it, he grows. Once you sin, the Devil always comes back for more. He craves a harder sin, one God isn't so likely to forgive. The Devil will push you further, he will put those unclean, evil thoughts in your head and you won't be able to resist. Therefore, you must never let the Devil in, never sin, keep yourself away from temptation. Come back to Church and let God's eternal love clean your soul from all the dirt that roams out there."

Long after that, Giselle had thought of the Devil and his greed, how she had never let him in but he entered anyway. Giselle felt the Devil in her every step. Every time she wished to run, she knew it was the Devil making her act like a boy, making her sin. Frightened by the Devil following her, Giselle spent days crying in the Church, begging God to save her. She wanted to talk to someone, but she was way too scared.

When she was fourteen, Giselle saw the first witch burning. The woman was young, just a bit older than Giselle was back then and she screamed as the fire took her. The crowd roared, climaxing as the fire ate through this poor woman's skin, leaving a smell of burnt meat in the air. She kept on repeating she was innocent all the way through. Everything after that, made so much more sense to Giselle.

Those men spent every moment of their day begging God to clean their soul, yet their soul was as rotten as the dead ground. And Giselle realised it wasn't the Devil behind all the devilish acts, it was men. And every sinful thought that ever occurred in her head, wasn't there because of the Devil, it was her own. It wasn't the Devil who was greedy. Giselle was greedy.

The first thing Giselle felt when she opened her eyes was blinding pain. Jesus Christ and the damned Holy Ghost. Her every limb was sour and numb with pain, so thorough she imagined it disabling her entire body. Giselle took a few deep breaths and slowly lifted herself with the help of her elbows. It was almost dark outside, she slept through the entire day. After waiting a bit, massaging her legs and her stomach, Giselle finally got out of the bed. She was barely able to move. Giselle didn't know how much she had before everything comes down on her, so she did the only thing that mattered. She went to visit her father.

Giselle knocked on his door. Her father was in his bed, it was a large bed, made for two. Its strong bed head was made of mahogany and the sheets were of olive green, adding to the warmth of the room. He hated stone, he found it cold and unwelcoming, so he had covered every surface he could with wood, or details such as plants and pictures.

"Such an awful summer it is, the storm has just passed and I can already feel another one coming. Interesting, how an old man can feel weather in his bones." He said, his voice hoarse and dry. It hurt Giselle to hear him like that. His voice used to be strong and clear. Nothing but a shadow of a man he once used to be lay before her.

"I hope winter won't be too harsh." Giselle answered, feeling the need to talk. She sat next to him on the bed.

"You're troubled, my dear." He asked. Giselle looked at him, his grey skin, his eyes lacking colour. Her father used to be a big, strong man, his beard and hair thick and black. What remained was an old man, barely alive, unable to get out of the bed. But his eyes were even wiser than before. He said that once a man loses his physical strength, a mind can thrive.

"Life's been taking its toll lately." Giselle said. His bed was somehow much softer than hers, more comforting.

"Your mother said your life wouldn't be easy, right after you were born. I've tried to make it as easy as possible, perhaps that was my biggest mistake."

"Why?" Giselle asked.

"When you were five years old, you had to attend classes to learn how to knit. I thought it was too early, but every other girl went so I let you go, too. You looked like a tiny, angry snowball, with your golden hair all curly. You didn't want to be there, you wanted to go out, to run and play in the fields. You kept staring at me, a little angelic tattletale who'd tell God I've been mistreating her. So I got you out of there and you ran behind the castle. If you'd kept knitting, perhaps things would be easier now."

Giselle wanted to tell him it would be even harder, that she would forever miss the freedom she didn't get a chance at. But do they really miss the freedom? Those that had never learned the meaning of the word.

"But I did run behind the castle. And I've reached the end of the fence, father. Now I want to see what the world looks like from beyond." Giselle's words were careful, but his smile was apparent, so she relaxed.

"Well, it is dumb to give someone the key and expect they wouldn't open the door."

"You aren't mad at me?" Giselle asked. Truth was, Giselle was her father's little girl and nothing would ever change that. Everyone might think all her life she has been making mistakes, but at the end, nothing mattered if her father is proud of her.

"You're all I have in this world, little girl. Perhaps it's ridiculous to hope, but I want you to find your happiness. Not someone else's, but yours, whatever and wherever that might be." He said, his voice soft and kind. And Giselle missed him in that moment, the man that lay next to her. Everything that would happen after this conversation, she would have to do alone. He wouldn't be here anymore to have her back, to support her. To love her even when she hurt him.

"I'm sorry, dad. I'm sorry I'm not what everyone expects me to be." Giselle meant it, aware that she had never been easy.

"Oh, love, go live a life! And I can't wait for us to meet one day, in a different time and place, and I get to meet the person you've become." He smiled at her and Giselle wondered how can a man in his situation be this happy. Perhaps happiness really doesn't depend on anything other than you.

"I thought you stopped believing in Heaven."

"I'm a dying man, Giselle, I am not taking any chances."

Giselle laughed honestly. Sometimes she hated how she had gotten her mother's darkness instead of his light. Giselle would miss his scent, the one she had known since the day she was born. The clearest memory of the biggest love she had ever received. And the idea, that he might be looking at her from a different place, rooting for her and believing in her, gave her strength to move on.

"Dad, I am going to have to do some awful things." Giselle said quietly.

Her father's smile faltered and he nodded once.

"Why did you marry me to Adam?" Giselle whispered. Her father sighed, lifting himself up slightly.

"Because I found my baby girl with a noose around her neck after a dumb boy left her. And I needed you to be angry, I needed you to be hateful. It was better than watching you wither and die." He said.

"I need to go." Giselle said, her eyes filling up with tears.

"Your mother would be proud of you." He said quietly. Giselle didn't know who her mother was and she was surprised to see how much those words hit her. Giselle didn't know what to say or do so she looked up at her father. He knew she loved him and she knew he loved her.

"You know, girl, I don't regret teaching you everything I knew, except for one thing. I taught you life was beautiful and it might be my biggest mistake." His eyes were full of fear, so obvious and raw it was impossible to miss. A fear of death, perhaps, or a fear of life.

"It's like reading, dad. Once you learn how, it is impossible to forget."

Giselle went back to her chambers. She had a tough decision to make and not nearly enough time to do it. If she wanted to live, she would have to mark a child for the witch.

Amalia would accuse her of witchcraft and now she had hard evidence, which meant Giselle most likely had until dawn to leave Carcassonne. With a man Rosa found drinking blood from a maid. Giselle sat on her bed, she was sweating and she was in pain.

"I'm evil." Giselle said out loud, the thunder outside roaring in the rhythm of her heart. There was no other explanation other than what they all said. The Devil was in her. And now she would have to mark a baby, she would have to forge an innocent child's destiny all because she played with death. But she would be alive. She could start over. With a man that drinks other people's blood, Giselle sighed. She remembered the witch's words. She did crave danger and maybe she really wanted to die. Then, why did she fight so hard to save her life?

Jorge opened the door. Giselle looked at him, at his slight smile, he knew something she didn't, he knew what her mother wanted her to do.

"Sanguis sanguini." Giselle repeated the words the witch told her.

"Blood to blood." He said, giggling. 

"What does it mean?" Giselle asked.

"Take the Princess to the castle through which walls the blood flows." He repeated the words he said to her earlier.

"Will Jack take me to this castle?" Giselle asked knowing full well she wasn't going to get a straight answer.

"Every once in a blue moon, my dearest Rose, a key lands in a hand, and a key loses its purpose if it doesn't open the door, and the door is nothing if it leads nowhere." It might have been the longest sentence he had ever said to Giselle and it meant less than all other broken words.

"Jorge, why do you call me Rose sometimes?"

"A rose is a rose if it has thorns."

Right on cue, Rosa opened the door abruptly.

"Giselle, it's time to leave." She said, her voice trembling. "Amalia and Lord Beaufort told the castle priest, Adam is there and they called forth your father."

"It's frightening, don't you think? The perverse amount of joy they get from watching people burn alive." Giselle commented and Rosa screamed like Giselle had never heard her scream.

"Do you hate yourself that much?! Don't you care about me, or your father? Don't you have any respect for Adam?"

"Respect is a luxury a woman in my position cannot afford." Giselle said, her voice icy cold. Rosa opened her mouth, like she wasn't sure whether to talk.

"I heard her talk. She doesn't want a fair trial, she wants to see you burn. She put on quite a show how you're dangerous for everyone, including her children..."

Giselle looked at Rosa, opening her mouth slightly. Her heartbeat slowed down, time seemed to slow down as the evilest thing entered Giselle's mind. But she was suddenly so angry, so vengeful. Rosa didn't notice this so she kept on talking.

"There's so much hatred in her, Giselle, it's not just fear. I, I didn't think she was that serious, but she is. She wants you dead, no matter what."

"Stall them, Rosa." Giselle interrupted her, not entirely believing what she was about to do. "And Rosa," Giselle added. "Keep Amalia away from her chambers."

Almost like Rosa couldn't react in any different way anymore, she began to cry.

"What are you going to do, Giselle?" She asked, she was scared and Giselle was sorry. But she would never make her a part of this, Giselle would never tell her.

"I need to move safely, just keep her wherever she is now. Keep her all night." Giselle lied so swiftly she frightened herself, but Rosa calmed down.

Giselle was going to do something that would seal her destiny forever. She was going to mark Amalia's baby and remove the poison out of her blood.