‘No, I suppose not. But I want more from myself. I could have stayed back in Marseille, safe with my family. Taken on my father’s business, lived a life of trade and prayer, but that is not me. I may get hurt. I may die because of the choices I make. But I would rather die fighting for something good than live in mediocrity. The choices we make are all we have that define us. They are all we can leave behind of ourselves. So, no, I will make no promise not to get hurt. Or not to take risks when I think they are necessary. I could, but then I would not be myself.’

He broke off, grimacing, one hand pressed to his bandaged side.

‘All right, all right.’ Camille blinked away her tears. ‘Be your annoying self. God, you’re all so frustrating.’

‘And yet, we are your family.’

‘Yes. You are.’

‘Because you are my family, I will say one more thing: we tell ourselves both sides are as bad as each other, and that is why we can sit in the middle, doing our work and exempting ourselves from judgement. Do you really think that’s true?’

Camille’s expression fell. ‘You know I do.’

‘I don’t think you do. I think you know as well as I do that sitting on the fence doesn’t make you free from guilt – it makes you complicit. I know neither of us want the Royalists back, but if we cannot save the Revolution, what else will happen?’

She opened and closed her mouth, unable to answer. Because he was right. If the Revolution fell, any chance for change would be lost. But what would be the cost of keeping it alive?

‘I don’t mean to make you work out where you stand right now – but I fear it won’t be long before we are forced to choose. And I know, for myself, I want to choose well.’

Camille buried her face in her hands. ‘Can we go back to talking about your unrequited love for me? That conversation was easier.’

He laughed, letting the tension ease.

Their eyes met, and she felt a flash of hope that even after everything that had happened the past few days, there might be something approaching normal waiting for her on the other side.

‘I will heal, Camille. Don’t fret.’

‘Thank god for James. We really should have had someone with medical knowledge on the team before.’

‘No, I meant this job. This is the point of the battalion. And we’ve got out of worse scrapes.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘If you mean the Nemours job, then I don’t really think that counts. Or don’t you remember setting my hair on fire?’

‘That was a wig.’ Guil grinned. ‘We left with all limbs and the money we’d been sent for. I think it was a complete success.’