Chapter Ten

Adeline was writing the last paragraph of the subsequent chapter in her novel. Her fingers flew across the typewriter keys as the words spilled out onto a paper: Should she stop calling him an enemy after she witnessed all the kindness he had done? Is it possible there's love between the occupier and the occupied? Love is the grace that transcends social, cultural and political barriers. Its sacred power can unite human beings in unexpected ways. A joyous sound clicked and clacked through the air, until finally a ding announced the carriage needed to return. She spun the roller to take out the paper and then put it on a desk along with her manuscripts.

Outside, everything seemed to be asleep. It was a splendid night; silvery stars filled the sky. Wilhelm hadn't been home yet. He went out with his regiment on maneuvers almost every night. He never returned until four o'clock in the afternoon.

Adeline moved to a dressing table. For a long time she sat very still, a comb in her hand, her hair loose around her back. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. A sweet happiness ignited in her heart, so happy that she felt like she was floating on a cloud. She smiled as a beautiful memory flooded back. She could almost feel the warm summer air on her skin and the scent of lilies mingling with the melodious tone of Wilhelm's violin. In that magical moment she saw herself again, twirling in Wilhelm's arms. The memory was so real that she rose from her chair. She swayed from side to sidewhile humming the melody of the music as if she was dancing with him.

During a moment of silence, Adeline heard the creaking of hinges, the mournful sound of the front door being bolted and a man's light cough; she might have thought Wilhelm had come back. She stepped out of the bedroom and then ran into him in the passage. When he passed beneath a bright pendant light, she saw a bruise on his face. Without thinking, she quickly asked him, "Oh God, what happened to you?"

"It's nothing."

"But you look pale and haggard," Adeline sounded worried. "Sit down and let me treat your bruise."

They were in the sitting room. Wilhelm sat in an armchair, his arms leaning on the armrest. Usually, his face was delicate but it was covered in a shiny coat of sweat now. Adeline put ice over his purplish cheek with an ice bag.

"How did you get it?" Adeline asked.

"It happened during maneuvers. When I ran down the slope, I tripped and fell over. My face bumped into the ground so hard."

"You're exhausted after three-night maneuvers in a row."

As Adeline rose to leave, Wilhelm spontaneously said, "Please don't go." He stopped, hesitated and then said with a hopeful stare, "I want you to stay here for a while if you don't mind."

"I just want to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water for you."

Wilhelm smiled with relief because spending time with Adeline was precious and he loved every moment he spent with her. She returned with a glass of water shimmering in her hand. She handed it to him and then he drank it deeply.

As Adeline tended his bruised cheek, Wilhlem looked into her eyes. In that moment, a tide of selfless love bloomed in his heart, whispering truths he had never voiced. "Adeline," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Being with you is the best thing that ever happened to me."

She gazed softly into his eyes, the warmth flooding her heart, "I . . ."

Adeline's sentences were swallowed by the abrupt intrusion of Jeanne's voice. The bedroom door slammed. The sound of hurried footsteps drew closer. Adeline and Wilhelm stood as Jeanne appeared. Astonished, she barely moved her lip. She was indignant at finding her daughter and the enemy together.

"Madam, your daughter is very kind to tend a bruise on my face," Wilhelm said.

Jeanne was very pale and nodded.

"Come with me," she commanded Adeline, her voice flat and devoid of warmth.

Adeline trailed behind as she walked out. The bedroom closed behind them, trapping them in a suffocating atmosphere.

Jeanne went white with anger. "I've told you not to get too close to him but you didn't listen to me!"

Adeline fell silent, lowering her head. She couldn't bear such an abrupt, harsh attack.

"Your brother is a prisoner of war in Germany. I noticed you haven't written to him for a long time since Wilhelm was here. Have you ever wondered if he's the one who took him prisoner? If you think so, you won't be able to bear that German being near you!"

"He was injured and I just helped him."

Jeanne walked toward her. She looked into her eyes, trying to read them because she knew they could reveal true feelings. "I think it's more than that. Your eyes tell you're in love with him. Don't ever think I will accept that relationship," Jeanne said darkly and walked away.

Adeline drowned in grief, tears streaming down her face. Louis had sacrificed everything for French independence. And she? She had smiled and shared joyful moments with the enemy while her brother fought and suffered. The realization hit her with the brutal force: "What have I done? How could I? This is madness." The questions were like a tormenting refrain, echoing in her mind.

The relationship between Wilhelm and Adeline, the occupier and the occupied was unacceptable. If she still insists, their love story will live in shame. The stigma of being the lover of the enemy will always be with her.