“Gonzague,” she said quietly, and loved the sound of his name. It was wonderfully old-fashioned and lyrical, as he was in a way, like a prince in a fairy tale, but this was real life. “I’m Black,” she said, and he looked at her as though for the first time.

“I didn’t know,” he said simply, with those piercing eyes, and then she laughed. “Perhaps you don’t remember. I was shot in the leg. I am not blind. So? You think I am afraid of that?”

“So what happens here? Where I live it would be a very hard thing. Impossible, or almost. They would punish us for being together. Terrible things would happen, our children would suffer, and so would we.” Just describing it to him made her feel sick. And it was what she was going back to now.

“That’s very wrong. It would not be that way in France. You are a very beautiful woman, but I’m not interested in your color. I care about your mind, and your heart. You are a woman of purpose. You are not afraid. You were not afraid when you came to help me. I saw your eyes, your face, your heart. Nothing frightened you then. Are you afraid now?” He waited for her answer. It all rested on that and what she would say.

“No, I’m not,” she said in a clear voice. “Are you?”

“Not at all. I am afraid of other things, of a world that allows a travesty to exist like the one we just lived, where brother betrays brother and nothing is safe or true or right. We allowed that to happen. We gave our country away. We allowed evil to exist and to prosper. France had poison in her veins for these years. I am not interested in the color of skin. What happened here must never happen again. That is important to me. And so is life with a good woman at my side. An extraordinary woman, which you are. Your color means nothing.” He was as beautiful and exciting and mysterious and strong as he had been when she met him. She had fallen in love with him on the spot, and believed she could never have him, and would never see him again. But she was wrong. He was a man of his word and he was here now. It wasn’t a fairy tale. It was real. And so was he, and he loved her just as she was.

“Do you have family? Parents? Brothers?” She wanted to know all about him too now.