Rosalie was a sweet girl. It pained Oscar, a little, to see her trying so hard to be someone she is not, all for revenge. Because she was Oscar she never even saw the way it became about something else, and if she had, she would not have known how to respond.
Rosalie was a sweet girl.
Like a little sister.
She had not even considered the light in which her closeness with Marie Antoinette could be seen until it was laid out in court, explicit and shocking in its details; despite everything, her image of herself was still such that even herself might not have been the appropriate word, and besides, she would never have considered that sort of disloyalty.
Behind her outrage for the queen's reputation, curiosity worked away at the whole thing in her mind. But however long she gave it, the idea didn't begin to make sense.
For a while, with Fersen, she thought it was love. It is only with hindsight that she can begin to understand, and perhaps she never really does; it might be that Fersen himself understands it far better. At the time she was curious, and he was convenient, and he was safe.
She never thought she would be like the teenage girls who used to giggle behind their fans when she went past, secure in their crushes knowing she'd never be anything more than courteous to them. But there it was.
Not really love, after all.
When it came to the Comte de Girodelle, there was no question. Professional respect was one thing, but he had spent years taking her orders, and she could barely view him as a personal friend, let alone... anything else.
All she felt was horror at being treated like a woman, and after that she didn't even have a great deal of respect left for the man.
So that was that.
There was a moment with Alain, towards the end, when she thought perhaps if I was someone else I could have loved you. He was rough but kind, and all sorts of straightfoward things that were not really a part of her world, and if she could have been a simple person then he would have been perfect.
But in the end, it was only a passing thought. They had found more common ground than she would have thought possible at the start, but she was able to recognise pure self-indulgent wondering when she encountered it.
In the end it was so ridiculous that she almost made herself laugh, fighting it until she began to cough instead, hunched over awkwardly and trying not to be heard.
[Five people Oscar never fell in love with]
Rosalie was a sweet girl.
Like a little sister.
She had not even considered the light in which her closeness with Marie Antoinette could be seen until it was laid out in court, explicit and shocking in its details; despite everything, her image of herself was still such that even herself might not have been the appropriate word, and besides, she would never have considered that sort of disloyalty.
Behind her outrage for the queen's reputation, curiosity worked away at the whole thing in her mind. But however long she gave it, the idea didn't begin to make sense.
For a while, with Fersen, she thought it was love. It is only with hindsight that she can begin to understand, and perhaps she never really does; it might be that Fersen himself understands it far better. At the time she was curious, and he was convenient, and he was safe.
She never thought she would be like the teenage girls who used to giggle behind their fans when she went past, secure in their crushes knowing she'd never be anything more than courteous to them. But there it was.
Not really love, after all.
When it came to the Comte de Girodelle, there was no question. Professional respect was one thing, but he had spent years taking her orders, and she could barely view him as a personal friend, let alone... anything else.
All she felt was horror at being treated like a woman, and after that she didn't even have a great deal of respect left for the man.
So that was that.
There was a moment with Alain, towards the end, when she thought perhaps if I was someone else I could have loved you. He was rough but kind, and all sorts of straightfoward things that were not really a part of her world, and if she could have been a simple person then he would have been perfect.
But in the end, it was only a passing thought. They had found more common ground than she would have thought possible at the start, but she was able to recognise pure self-indulgent wondering when she encountered it.
In the end it was so ridiculous that she almost made herself laugh, fighting it until she began to cough instead, hunched over awkwardly and trying not to be heard.