But would it have changed the course of events if she had ridden with me? Would her presence have kept Luc from kidnapping me and dragging me under the mountain? No, I decided quickly. At best, he would have waited for another opportunity to snatch me away, and at worst… A vision of Sabine lying dead on the ground filled my eyes, and I blinked it away furiously. It was better that events had happened as they did. “Sabine, I didn’t give you the cho…”

She held up a hand, cutting me off. “And then you came back, and I was happier than I’d ever been in my whole life. You were alive.” She pressed her palm to her forehead as though to force down a memory. “And when you told me what had happened, I hated them so much. Hated them for what they had done to you, to your family. To me.”

Her arms dropped to her sides. “But you didn’t hate them. Quite the opposite, you were in love with one of them.” Her eyes met mine in the mirror. “And I don’t understand it, Cécile. They hurt you, took away everything from you, and even though you escaped, it seems like you’ll never be free of them. They’ve stolen your future, robbed you of everything you had a passion for – and so how can you blame me for trying to at least liberate your heart from their clutches.”

I didn’t blame her. Nor could I quite explain to her that I’d gained as much as I’d lost while I was in Trollus, without making it seem that I valued one life over another. I had been hurt. I’d made sacrifices. But I did not feel bereft.

“I…”

A knock sounded on the door, and a second later, Julian leaned inside. “It’s time,” he said, his eyes shifting between us. Sabine pushed past him, and with a sigh, I followed.

My mother was waiting outside the door, her brow furrowed as she watched Sabine weave her way through the chaos of backstage. “That girl has a spirit for stirring up trouble,” she said, turning to the two of us. “It may be time for her to find employment elsewhere.”

My skin flushed hotly, and I jabbed a finger against my mother’s chest. “Leave. Her. Alone.”

Genevieve’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I mean it, Mother,” I said, glaring up at her. “If she leaves because of anything that you’ve done, I’ll quit. And not just the company – I’ll walk away from you, and I won’t look back.”

Not waiting for her to respond, I stormed through the corridors to the foyer. There were still a handful of young gentlemen watching the dancers finish their warm-up, but most had retreated to their boxes as the performance was about to begin. A few of the girls gave me curious glances, but no one troubled me.

Was it an idle threat, or had I meant what I said to my mother? I wasn’t sure. My eyes flicked over the portraits of the famous women who had graced the stage and my stomach clenched at the idea of willingly giving up my dream of standing amongst them. I mouthed the names written on little plaques beneath the paintings in a silent plea for guidance. My mother’s I ignored, but I paused when a familiar name passed my lips. Lise Tautin. My grandmother.