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EternalFlame

(DamensStory)
anexclusiveshortstory

By

AlysonNol
EternalFlame2

St. Martins Press


THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. ALL OF THE
CHARACTERS, ORGANIZATIONS, AND EVENTS
PORTRAYED IN THIS STORY ARE EITHER
PRODUCTS OF THE AUTHOR'S IMAGINATION
OR ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY.
Eternal Flame
Copyright 2010 by Alyson Noel.

All rights reserved. For information address

St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010


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The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you,
not knowing how blind that was. Lovers dont finally meet somewhere.
Theyre in each other all along. Rumi
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Paris, France

8 August 1608

I lean back against the velvet-cushioned seat and close my eyes to the sound of

hooves pounding hard against the cobblestone streets. Their clip-clopping harmony

keeping perfect tempo with the rumble of carriage wheels, affording a sound as sweet as

any symphony Ive ever heard.

Its the sound of escape.

The sound of goodbye.

A sound thats always served to soothe me in the past, providing the much-needed

assurance that the unwelcome inquiries and suspicions of newly alerted acquaintances

would soon fadeallowing for a brief respite in a new location, before Im on the move

again.

Im a gypsy.

A nomad.

A vagabond.

A drifter.

I am one who wanders incessantlythough not always by choice.

The things others take for granteda permanent address, an extended family, a

group of close and trusted friendsare not for my kind.

Ive made that mistake before, learned my lesson the hard way. Having convinced

myself it was okay to stay, to settle inonly to be awakened in the middle of night by the

blaze of torches, the threat of drawn swords, and the rising hysteria of a fear driven mob.

A mistake I will not make again.


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I gather the gold tasseled curtain and push it aside, peering out the small square

window and gazing upon a blanket of night sky so dark, so dazzling, so littered with

clusters of glistening stars Im reminded of Drinas jewel casean oversized, silk lined

monstrosity heaping with the finest assortment of gems money can buy.

My mind filling with the thought of herher blaze of red hair, her creamy white

skin, her startling emerald green eyes and cool feral smilemaking for a beauty so

astonishing, so alluring, that for years, centuries really, it seemed like enough.

But no more.

Now my only hope is to rid myself of every last trace of her.

Reduce the girl with whom I spent the better part of my life to a small, distant

memory Id prefer to erase.

Though, in all fairness, its not Drina whos changed. Throughout each passing

year, shes remained exactly the sameno different from the young girl I rescued from

the orphanage centuries before.

Covetous.

Acquisitive.

Greedy.

Consumed by a whole host of needs and demands that run so deep it appears

theres no endkeeping the most voracious part of her appetite reserved just for me.

And while its true that I once desired her too, these days, I can no longer find it

within me.

My carriage veers to the right but the view doesnt changeit remains as constant

and eternal as I am.


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The sun faithfully rising and setting, while the moon and stars glow as brightly as

they did on the day of my birth just over two hundred years earlier. A display of nature I

find myself taking for granted, never pausing long enough to appreciate the true and

constant miracle of it.

A lapse on my part I hope to remedy, just as soon as Im freed from this place.

My driver tempers the pace, a sign we draw near, and I cant help but wonder if

any of tonights party guests, any of my so-called friends, will notice just how much Ive

changedthat Im no longer the same, admittedly vain and superficial person they all

know me to be.

Something has shiftedsomething I cant quite define. Its as though the old way

of doing thingsthe old way of seeing thingsthe old way of beingno longer works.

Leaving me with no choice but to move on toward the one thing I am meant to

discoverwhatever that is.

The one, elusive, indefinable thing that holds far greater importance than anything

Ive ever yet known.

Like the glow from the dock that beckons a sailor to port, its what keeps me

moving forwardkeeps me clinging to hope.

**

My horses whinny and nicker and stamp their feet hard against the cobbled

drivea cue to draw my curtain, run a quick hand over my hair and waistcoat, pocket the
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small package Ive brought for my hostess, nod to my driver, and make my way toward

the entrance, silently rehearsing:

Goodbye.

Arrivederci.

Au revoir.

Auf Wiedersehen.

Words Ive said so many times, in so many languages, youd think theyd be

much better practiced by now.

And though I havent been in Paris long enough to raise any undue suspicions

regarding the source of my wealth, or my never-changing, never-aging appearancethe

two inevitable inquiries that always fuel my flightthese days I find myself restless,

bored, eager to move on toward this untold destiny that surely awaits.

A uniformed servant opens the door and ushers me inside a home so grand in

scale and opulence it could easily house a thousand nobles quite comfortably. And just

before making my way across an expanse of shiny marble floor where Ill seamlessly

blend into the dance of nodding and smiling and double cheek kissing, bestowing the sort

of easily forgettable greetings that are always required in situations like this, I pause for a

moment to soak up the energy. Tuning into the cacophony of each individuals mind,

eavesdropping on their innermost thoughtsbefore shutting them out in favor of my

hostesss on the far side of the room.

An overdressed, harshly judgmental sort with a penchant for too much red wine

and a taste for gossip of the most malicious kindthe moment I gaze upon her, the
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moment I overhear the spiteful words that ring in her head, I cant begin to fathom why I

ever thought her my friend.

I trust the small velvet box to her greedy, outstretched fingers and bow down

before her, knowing her salacious gaze is due as much to the expensive jeweled trinket

nestled inside, as it is to my newly single status that has not gone unnoticed.

Nothing a quick change in the seating chart cant remedy, she thinks, directing a

swiftly calculating smile at me. Seeing the same thing she always sees when she gazes

upon mean endless source of charm, wealth, and good looks shes determined to use to

her advantage. Having heard of my rumored fondness for beautiful and willing young

thingsshe seats me beside Daphnea pretty brunette whose batting eyes and flirtatious

laugh wouldve been enough to amuse me on any other nightbut not tonight.

No matter how perfectly turned out the young single women may be, theres not

one among them who can hold the slightest bit of interest for me.

Still, I release myself from the swirl of my hostesss mind and focus on Daphne,

going through the motions of nodding and smiling and timing my witty replies as

perfectly as an actor in a well-scripted play. Amusing myself by keeping tabs on the

number of times her hand finds its way to my arm (thirty-seven thus far), while counting

each course of an elaborate meal I merely fudge my way through (so far thereve been

fourincluding the soup). Knowing that with every plate served and cleared I grow

closer to goodbyethe real reason Im here.

Monsieur?

The voice stirs me from my thoughtsthe sound of it so light, so melodic, so

lyrical, it causes the hair on my neck to rise up on end.


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Monsieur? She repeats, but my response melts on my tongue. Never before

have I seen eyes so blue, hair so golden, skin so smooth and creamy and inviting Id give

anything to press my own against it.

Never before have I seen anything as extraordinary as she.

Pardon. She bows, cheeks flushing the loveliest shade of pink as she backs

away from my place. Mistaking my silence for smugness, arrogance, and conceittaking

one look at the cut of my clothes, the shine of my buttons, the full scale of my

ridiculously opulent finery, and deeming me the type of high, lofty person who could

never be expected to address someone as lowly as she.

Pardon, moi, I say, my French, though not my native language, sliding

effortlessly off my tongue. Grasping her hand, noting how the feel of her skin is so warm,

soelectricas it presses against mine, Im tempted to linger and never let go. Unable

to stop myself from uttering, Who are you? Then noting the way she glances toward

our hostess, her blush deepening as she dips her head low. Knowing Ive caused her great

embarrassment, and possibly trouble as well, which makes me regret having spoken at

all.

I am Evaline, sir. She meets my gaze shyly, as she tries to free her hand from

mine. May I remove your plate, please? She lifts her chin, looking at me in a way that

causes a stream of quiet warmth to rush through me. But try as I might, I cant seem to

look away, cant seem to forgo the feel of her skin.

Damen, please. Daphne balks, poking my sleeve with the dagger-like tip of her

sharp, pointy nail. Prompting me to let go of that remarkable handthe sudden loss of

which causes my entire world to darken. What would Drina say to see you fawning all
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over a servant like this? Her eyes move over me, cruel, glinting, having conveniently

forgotten all about Drina just a moment ago when it was she who sought my attention,

but all too happy to reminisce now in an attempt to put this girlthis beautiful,

extraordinary girlin her place.

Drina is in Hungary, I say, forcing myself to tear my gaze away from the lure of

those clear blue eyes and the soft golden tendril thats managed to escape from the

confines of her cap. Carefully taking note of each and every detail of her face, her stature,

her mannerisms, the inflections in her voice, so that I might commit them to memory and

never have to live another second without them. We have gone our separate ways, I

add, knowing the statement will cause much scandal and tongue wagging, but no longer

caring.

I didnt say it for themI said it for the girl.

Evaline.

The most perfectly poetic name Ive ever heard.

My eyes follow as she makes her way around the table. Her lowered gaze and

roughly calloused hands telling me shes grown all too used to the numerous and

frivolous demands of my supposed friendsthough the tilt of her chin and slant of her

brow hint at an intelligence and strength theyve all chosen to miss.

Unable to see past the plain and unflattering servants attire thats been forced

upon her, the drab little cap meant to hide what I know to be an abundant mane of golden

blond hairtheyre impressed by the more shallow things in lifestatus, money, class

the very things I possess in abundancethe very reason theyve invited me here.
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Failing to see what I seeunable to look past the dreary exterior to the glory

beneaththey remain frustratingly blind to the very thing that to me, shines so clear:

This girlthis servantthis Evalineis the single embodiment of everything

Ive been searching for.

She is my destiny.

My reason for being.

And now that Ive found her, I have no need for leaving. Not when everything I

seekeverything I needis right here.

I settle back in my seat, feeling more at home than ever before. Quickly

reclaiming the role of charming dinner guest, which prompts my hostess to smile and nod

her approval, and Daphne to lean toward me and grasp my arm once again.

There are repercussions for fraternizing outside of ones classand now that I

plan to stick around Ill have no choice but to play by those rules.

Or at least for now anyway.

But tomorrow I will find her.

Tomorrow Evaline and I will accidentally meet.

Then again the day after.

And the day after that.

The coincidence continuing to repeat itself until Ive had a chance to know her

to earn the depth of trust required to offer her the one thing I havent offered to anyone

else in a very long time:

The elixir of eternal life.


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My eyes dare to meet hers once again, and I take a quick moment to slip inside

her head. Needing the assurance that its not just methat she feels it toothat

wonderful swarm of tingle and heat and the beautiful promise it holds. A phenomenon

weve no way to explain, its so unlike anything either of us has ever experienced before.

Then, just as quickly, Im outaverting my gaze and rejoining the party.

Laughing, drinking, pretending to overindulge along with the rest of themall the while

profoundly aware that my life has forever, irreversibly changed.

That from this moment onnothingnothing at allwill ever be the same.


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