17. Chapter 17
Giselle
I sit at my desk, trying to focus on the marketing plans for our annual Halloween Ball. I’m the busiest I’ve been working for the winery, but no matter how busy I am, my mind still drifts to Loys—I mean Albrecht—every few minutes. I’m trying to think of him as Albrecht in my mind, since I feel like ‘Loys’ was a farce. It’s a way for me to cope and distance myself from him and what was.
But, if I’m honest with myself, I miss him. His letters, full of heartfelt explanations and declarations of love, are slowly melting the walls I’ve built around my heart after finding out he was engaged. But the fear of being hurt again keeps me from picking up the phone or answering his texts. Trusting him feels like walking on a tightrope without knowing if there’s a safety net below.
With a sigh, I push thoughts of Albrecht aside and turn my attention back to the task at hand. Our Halloween Ball is the largest event of the year and the most beloved. I remember being a little girl and watching from the windows of my parents' chateau, wishing the years would pass by quickly so I could attend. They finally let me when I turned sixteen, and it was the most magical evening.
Being able to help plan it might be even more special. I want to make it the best one yet. I need this distraction. An idea starts to form, and I jot down notes, excitement bubbling up despite my lingering sadness.
A masquerade ball with gothic vibes. The thought brings a smile to my face. It could be a glamorous, mysterious event that our wine club members would love. And as an added twist, I could perform a haunting solo from the ballet I was named after by my ballet-loving mother—Giselle. It would be the perfect way to test the waters for a potential ballet festival in the future.
I spend the next few hours outlining the details. Invitations, decorations, music, catering—everything has to be perfect. As it starts to come together, I feel a spark of excitement. This event could be exactly what the winery needs, and if I’m honest, what I need too. With everything that happened with Albrecht, my dad is leaving it up to me as to whether he moves forward with the partnership. Guilt plagues me, as I know we need the funds, so until I give my dad the okay to continue with Albrecht’s family’s offer or go with another one, I want the ball to be as successful as possible to help offset things.
In the evening, I wander through the vineyard, the crisp autumn air carrying the scent of pine trees and fermenting wine. I rehearse the solo in my mind, imagining the eerie, ethereal movements of Giselle as a Willis—ghosts of maidens betrayed by their lovers. It’s fitting really, the dance when Giselle is summoned out of her grave to dance and haunt her former lover after having broken her heart. It’s perfect for Halloween and how I’ve been feeling lately. I had always hoped to work my way up to becoming a principal dancer to be able to perform the role someday, but the longer I’m away from that dream, the more I feel confident in this new direction to bring ballet to Napa Valley.
Back at the cottage, I settle down with a cup of tea and Albrecht’s latest email. His words are like a balm to my wounded heart, and I feel like I know him on an even deeper level now. I read and reread his promises, his explanations, and I do understand why he felt it best to not tell me right away. I’m sure if he told me he was from a royal family I would have been much more reluctant to open myself up to him. And I definitely wouldn’t have understood the whole arranged marriage thing. I truly cannot believe his family did that to him, but I see now that we come from such different cultures and familial expectations.
Dear Giselle,
I hope this letter finds you well. Today, I finalized another step in my abdication process. Every day brings me closer to being free. As much as I long to hear from you, I understand your hesitation. I’m yours and hope someday that you’ll be mine again.
Forever yours,
Albrecht
Tears prick my eyes as I close out my email. I want to believe him. I want to let myself believe that we can have a future together. But we’re an ocean apart and I don’t know how to bridge the gap. I’m not sure my heart could handle it not working out. I know I’m being stubborn, but I’m scared. I’ve never loved anyone like I love him, despite the pain he’s caused me. I want to trust him, to believe his intentions weren’t to fool me.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, centering myself. For now, I need to focus on the masquerade ball, and when it’s over, I’ll think about responding to Albrecht. Maybe then I’ll be ready to take a leap of faith, to let go of the fear and give him—and us—another chance.
For the rest of October, I throw myself into preparations for the event. I coordinate with decorators, hire a caterer, and finalize the guest list. My aunt Myrtha and cousins are also on board to help. I couldn’t do it without them. I spend countless hours trying to perfect the solo I’ll perform.
When the day of the ball arrives, the winery buzzes with activity as we transform the tasting room and terrace into an ethereal and spooky venue. White pumpkins line all the walkways and we have spider webs strewn over the bushes outside. Vases with black roses are strategically placed on top of columns and tables both inside and outside. It all comes together to look hauntingly beautiful.
I’ve set up a small stage on the terrace, overlooking the venue and the vineyard below. I’ve practiced the dance a hundred times in the last week and yet my stomach flutters as the start of the ball is mere hours away.
I distract myself by getting ready. I’m wearing a romantic white tutu with white chiffon arm bands—the classic look for Act II of Giselle. I even found the perfect mask for the evening; it’s white with silver accents and has crystals hanging down that look like dripping tears. After my performance I’ll change into a rosy pink gown I found at a vintage boutique downtown. And as fun and exciting as this all is, the only thing that would make it better is if I had Albrecht to share it with. I silently curse myself for being so stubborn with him, because I know deep down that I’ve already forgiven him and want us to work out. My head just needed time to catch up with my heart and to wrap my brain around the idea of him being betrothed to someone else that he didn’t love.
I need to get through this evening and then I vow to myself to finally call him. I just hope I’m not too late.