Prologue
Veritas, May 2024
The salty air clung to my skin, a constant reminder of the ocean’s proximity. It was a far cry from the manicured gardens and sun-drenched vineyards of my childhood home, the Château de la Fleur. Yet, even here, in this quiet coastal town, I cannot escape the echoes of the past. They whisper to me on the breeze, haunt my dreams, and cling to the pages of the worn leather diary I now hold in my hands.
The Diary has been my constant companion since my last summer as a child in 1788, a silent witness to the tumultuous journey that has transformed me from a carefree socialite into the creature I have become. Now, as I sit in the dimly lit living room of my rented home. Arlo sleeping soundly in the next room, I open the pages once more, being drawn back into the world of my youth.
The ink has faded as I recount my tales of a life long gone, a life filled with laughter, love, and naivety that now seemed almost laughable. “Oh, Vivienne,” I murmur to my younger self my voice a soft caress against the silence. “You were so foolish, so blissfully unaware of the darkness that lurked just beyond the horizon.”
I trace the delicate script with a fingertip, the memories flooding back with a bittersweet intensity. The grand balls, the stolen glances with Lucien, the whispered dreams of a future together. It all seemed so distant now, like a half-remembered dream.
A sigh escapes my lips, a whisper of regret and longing. I close the diary, its leather cover cool against my palm. The weight of the past presses down on me, a heavy burden I have carried for centuries. Yet, amidst the sorrow, a flicker of gratitude. For even, in the darkness, I have found moments of joy, fleeting connections that have illuminated me along my lonely existence.
And now, with Arlo by my side, there is a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, even in this twilight world, there is still a chance for love, for redemption, for a new beginning.
