157. The Prince - Denise Rests cont.

"I have never heard you speak of your family," I say at length. "You know who mine are but I haven't the slightest idea of yours. Are they near? May I meet them? Do you have sisters? Brothers?"

She shakes her head. "All I have now are Madame, Muriel, and Denise. Mother died when I was young. And Father," she pauses and I understand. 

She must have loved him. She seems to love everyone. And I only love her more for it. I see the pain in her eyes as she tries to form the words and I want to ease that pain. I don't want her to have to say the words. "I'm sorry," I interject. "It must be hard to be alone. But at least you have your mistresses," I offer.

She laughs a sad laugh. "Yes, Denise and Muriel are the only sisters I've ever known."

"You must all be a comfort to one another. Like you, they have lost a father."

She gives me a strange look and I don't know quite what to make of it. "Sire," she begins but I halt her words and our progress. I cannot bear this formality from her when we have enjoyed such open discourse.

"Please, Ella, will you call me Edmond? You are my equal or my better in all things. To you I do not wish to be the prince. To you I only want to be me."

She smiles her beautiful little smile and asks, "won't the queen object to such informality? I understand she holds very dearly to decorum." 

"Among the court, yes," I respond. "But with family and a small circle of friends she is quite candid and amiable."

She laughs at me again and the sound thrills me. It is not reserved or stifled. This is what I love in her. "I cannot pretend to fall into either of those categories," she pauses ever so slightly, "Edmond." What relief to hear my name from her lips. "I have never met the queen and any relation we have I'm afraid is too distant to consider us as close."

"Perhaps that may be." Do I dare continue? I want to say what is in my heart. I want her to be a part of that circle. I want her to know of the deep regard and love that she has stirred in me in these few short days. But is it too much? Will she run again? She has not yet and she knows who I am now. I take my chance. "But that need not always be the case. I would like for you to meet her. I would like for you to be a friend to her."

I hold my breath as I wait for her response. Have I asked too much of her too soon?

"I think," her voices catches before she continues, "I would like that, too."

I am sure she notices me releasing my breath. I do not hide my relief very well. Her shy little smile has returned. I never want it to leave. I want to see her smile always. This smile, I would do anything for.