Chapter 17

A thin mist clung to the ground in the grey pre-dawn light as Vivienne stepped out of Alexander's carriage at the edge of the Bois de Boulogne. The early morning air was chill and silent; even the birds had not yet begun their songs. Vivienne pulled her cloak tight around her trembling body. Alexander had tried to dissuade her from coming, but she refused to let him face this alone. At last he relented, allowing her to ride with him on the condition that she remain back during the duel itself.

Now, as he and his chosen second—a colonel friend from his regiment—walked ahead to the clearing among the oak trees, Vivienne hung back by a cluster of bushes. To her surprise, another figure emerged from shadows nearby to stand quietly beside her. Gabriel.

He inclined his head in greeting, his expression grave. "Your coachman let me ride along behind. I heard about the duel late last night," he murmured. "I had to come."

Vivienne's eyes filled again; she was grateful for his presence. Gabriel was in uniform, which lent official solemnity to the affair—perhaps even serving as a witness to discourage foul play. She managed a faint thank you, and he gently squeezed her hand before they both turned to watch the two duelists ready themselves.

At the center of the clearing, Alexander and Lucien faced off at twenty paces. The colonel handed Alexander one of two long-barreled dueling pistols, then carried the other to Lucien, who stood with a hired second. Vivienne could see Alexander's profile—stern, focused, but calm. Lucien's face was a pale mask of hatred even at this distance.

Her heart seized at the sight of Alexander's injured left arm bound in a sling; Lucien's bullet had grazed him in a scuffle the day after the opera. Though a minor wound, it meant Alexander would fire one-handed. Lucien, by contrast, flexed both arms easily as he tested the pistol's weight. Vivienne silently cursed the Marquis—a coward's trick to provoke Alexander and weaken him before the duel.

The colonel stepped to the side and projected his voice. "Gentlemen, on my count of three, you will turn and fire. Understood?"

Both Alexander and Lucien gave terse nods, taking their back-to-back positions. Vivienne's nails bit into her palms. Gabriel stood tense and ready, eyes locked on the opponents.

The colonel's voice rang out: "One."

Vivienne held her breath. Alexander's free hand twitched at his side; Lucien's stance coiled like a snake's.

"Two."

Her vision blurred with terrified tears. In her mind she prayed desperately: Please, let Alexander be safe. Let this end.

"Three!"

Both men spun and fired almost in unison. Two shots cracked through the mist, thunderous in the stillness. Vivienne gave a small scream, unable to contain it.

For a heartbeat, neither man moved. Then Lucien staggered, dropping his pistol. A crimson stain spread swiftly on his white shirt, just below the ribcage. He looked down at it in disbelief. Alexander remained standing, pistol still raised. A dark line grazed across his upper arm's sleeve—Lucien's shot had torn through the fabric but, thank the heavens, it seemed to have only skimmed past him.

Lucien collapsed to his knees, one hand pressed futilely to his wound. His second rushed to him, aghast. Vivienne, choking on relief, broke from cover and sprinted toward Alexander.

"Alexander!" she cried, tears streaming as she reached him. He turned and caught her in his one good arm, steadying her as she nearly fell against him. Alive—he was alive. She sobbed with joy and clung to him.

"It's alright, my love," he murmured, handing off the pistol to the colonel and cradling her with his free arm. "I'm alright." She felt his racing heartbeat under her cheek as she pressed against his chest.

Gabriel arrived a step behind, exhaling a deep breath at seeing Alexander unharmed. He offered the Duke a respectful nod, which Alexander returned, understanding the unspoken support Gabriel had given by being present.

A wet, ragged cough turned their attention to the fallen Marquis. Lucien had collapsed fully onto his back. Blood bubbled on his lips. Vivienne felt a complex swell of emotions—wrath, pity, closure. She pulled away from Alexander slightly, moving to stand over the man who had caused her so much suffering.

Lucien's once piercing eyes were dimming, but they fixed on Vivienne with a mix of malice and desperation. "You…think…this…changes anything?" he rasped between blood-choked breaths. "They…will never truly accept…you…"

Vivienne knelt in the dewy grass beside him, surprising herself. Perhaps she wanted him to see clearly that she was not cowed. "I have the acceptance of those who matter," she said softly, calmly. "You have lost, Lucien. Let that be your final lesson."

He grimaced, whether in pain or bitterness. His bloody hand weakly grasped her skirt. "You…should have…been mine," he gurgled, a last spasm of spite in his voice.

Vivienne gently pried his fingers off the silken fabric. "I belong to myself," she answered.

Lucien let out a final shuddering breath, eyes rolling skyward. The grip of death claimed him, and his body went limp on the cold ground.

A somber silence fell. The colonel bent to verify the Marquis had expired and nodded grimly. Lucien's second cursed under his breath and slowly began to cover the corpse with his discarded coat.

Gabriel made the sign of the cross and murmured a prayer under his breath. Vivienne rose on unsteady feet, Alexander immediately steadying her. She realized she was shaking violently— from adrenaline and the grim reality of seeing a man's life end before her eyes, even a hated one.

Alexander kissed her temple, whispering soothingly. "It's over, Vivienne. He can't hurt you any more."

She nodded, allowing herself to fold into his embrace. Over his shoulder, she saw Gabriel watching, concern etched on his face.

Alexander followed her gaze and gently beckoned Gabriel closer. The two men exchanged a look of mutual respect forged in crisis. Alexander extended his hand. "Thank you for being here. Your presence did us a great service."

Gabriel clasped the Duke's hand firmly. "I only care for her safety as you do," he replied sincerely. In that moment, Vivienne felt a weight lift—whatever rivalry or tension might have existed between them, it was eclipsed by their shared relief that she was safe and that honor was defended.

The colonel cleared his throat quietly. "We should depart. This never officially happened." Duels were illegal, and while hush would likely be kept due to the Marquis's wrongdoing, it was best not to linger.

Alexander agreed. He kept Vivienne close as they walked back toward the carriages beyond the trees. Gabriel fell in step on her other side, ever watchful.

At the carriages, Gabriel paused. He gently took Vivienne's hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. "I'm glad you're alright," he said softly. In his eyes, she saw not just relief but also the lingering question of her decision—their conversation in the garden hung unfinished.

Vivienne squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Gabriel… for everything." Her eyes conveyed what she felt: gratitude, affection, and a sorrowful apology that she could not choose him. Gabriel gave a small, understanding nod. He released her hand and stepped back.

Alexander helped Vivienne into his carriage, then turned to Gabriel. "Captain Laurent, perhaps you'll call on us at a better time. As a friend."

Gabriel managed a faint smile. "Perhaps I will, Your Grace." His gaze flickered once more to Vivienne. "Take care of her," he said, a heartfelt request.

"I will. With my life," Alexander vowed.

With that, Gabriel bowed and turned to depart, striding off into the lifting morning fog. Vivienne watched him until he vanished beyond the trees, a bittersweet ache in her heart.

As the carriage carrying Vivienne and Alexander rolled away from the dueling ground, the first rays of sunrise broke through the clouds, painting the sky in pink and gold. Vivienne leaned against Alexander, exhaustion and relief washing over her in equal measure. Lucien's dark shadow had lifted. The worst of her dangers had been faced and conquered—at a deadly cost, but final.

Alexander kissed the crown of her head and murmured, "It's a new day, my love."

Vivienne closed her eyes and held his hand tightly. A new day indeed. And she intended to seize it, free at last from the Marquis's threats. Though challenges remained, she had survived the storm. Dawn had come, and with it, a chance to shape her destiny on her own terms.