Chapters (86)
‘For god’s sake, this isn’t a revolution any longer. It’s a dictatorship. The Revolution was poisoned and left for dead by Robespierre and these fanatics. Can’t you see that? They think they can name as traitor anyone their paranoid minds tell them has turned against them, and murder without consequence. They no more respect the rule of law than the Roman tyrants did when their empire fell. I will not let France be dragged down under the weight of preening, arrogant fools. The tide is turning, Adalaide. Soon the moderates and reasonable men will rise and restore order and civilisation and we can actually get something done. There is no need for so much hungry violence. Why can’t we be calm and civil and discuss our ideas with respect for one another? Your mother would have understood that.’
And that was where Ada’s self-control broke.
‘My mother would have been ashamed of you,’ she snarled, eyes flashing. ‘You’re calm and civil because this doesn’t affect you. You’re not trapped and starving. I’ll sit down and shut up the day we’re equal, the day we’re all free. You just want people to stop causing you problems.’
Her father had withdrawn completely, hiding his emotions behind the calm facade of the rational philosopher. ‘You are young, and a woman. You do not have the same grasp of such things as those who have dedicated themselves to study and thought for decades. It is words like yours that damage the cause and set us far further back than if we had not started at all.’
‘I think you’re a coward.’ Her stomach was churning and she was glad she hadn’t eaten anything or she might have thrown up. ‘Mother would have thought so too.’
He rose, gathered up the tray and crossed to the door.
‘I knew you could be headstrong, but I never thought you would become cruel.’
She coiled back onto the bed, wrapping her arms around her legs, fighting the hot tears of injustice and loneliness that threatened to engulf her. The world was viciously, spitefully unfair and she hated it. She wasn’t going to let it drag her down, though. Camille might not choose her, but Ada was starting to understand why. There were bigger things than each other to choose. Olympe still needed them – and if they couldn’t put this right then the whole city, even France itself, could be in danger. The fight was more than just the two of them.
Her father would slip eventually, and she would be ready.
She’d escaped before, she could do it again.