Chapter 35
35
Clio
The entire world feels new and brimming with possibility.
Excitement, anticipation, and hope all collide inside me in a mad frenzy, rushing to break free.
I want to tell Julien everything that happened last night.
Everything that happened before, starting with the power of memory, with how my heart and mind and soul went back to him, piece by piece, every time I inspired an artist.
All that love I channeled reminded me of all the love I had in the museum, in the paintings, in his arms.
He’s waiting, and it’s time to finish my tale and find out how it ends.
I glance back at Thalia, who’s been waiting patiently and watching curiously. I motion for her to join us for this part, and when she does, nodding silently to Julien, I dive in.
“I went to Thalia and asked her to right a wrong.”
She takes my arm, squeezes it affectionately. “She offered me a rare opportunity. Not everyone gets to fix a mistake.”
I’m so proud of my sister Muse. Proud of her for saying yes.
Proud of her for knowing it was time to let me go.
I raise my hands, letting the sleeves of my shirt fall to my elbows. “No more bracelets.”
His eyes widen as they land on my bare wrists then fly to my face. I’m still amazed myself.
And here’s the most astounding, marvelous, incredible thing that I’m bursting to tell him: “I’m not a Muse anymore.”
My God, it is wonderful to say.
It’s wonderful to be .
“It was my choice,” I say, laying my hand on my heart. “I expected I’d fall out of love with you, and I thought I had. But the memories of us kept the love alive. Suddenly, I wanted something I’ve never wanted in all my years—a life outside of what I knew. A world beyond a painting.”
Julien seems to drink in what I’m saying, working it out, but not quite fully comprehending it yet. “Not a Muse anymore? Is that possible?”
I nod because I can’t speak past the lump in my throat.
But I want to say the rest. This man gave up his whole heart for the world’s art. He gave up love to restore beauty. He let go for the sake of something bigger than us.
“I asked Thalia to unmake me.”
He frowns and looks at Thalia. “You did that?”
She clears her throat. “She’s no longer eternal. No longer bound. No longer a muse of any kind.”
I shrug, unable to make it simpler than this: “I’m just a woman. That is all.”
That’s what clicks for him. He believes in the impossible.
Like art coming alive.
Like a pencil drawing something into reality.
Like stepping into another world.
That’s how I feel right now.
I want to inhale this world—drink it in, live in it, love in it, be in it.
“You’re a woman outside the garden,” Julien says in a hushed voice.
“I am no longer wandering in irises. I can wander anywhere. With my own two feet. I can’t travel by painting anymore and it’s wonderful to walk everywhere,” I say the same way, full of awe and joy. I sigh gently, happily, then turn to Thalia. “I’ll miss you too. But you’ll take good care of the art, right?”
“It’s on my to-do list forevermore.” Thalia taps her heart then her own bracelets. She has two on each wrist now, hers and mine.
Julien glances between us, realization no doubt dawning and turning to shock and dismay. “You’re not going to see each other again?”
I feel the same, but I’ve had a few more hours than he has to process this. I knew it was part of my choice, but knowing you’ll leave and saying goodbye are worlds apart.
Thalia shakes her head, and her voice breaks. “Not often. I’m quite busy and will be even busier now. But I’ve had more than a century to get used to not seeing Clio,” she tells him with a gentle smile for me. “We made do without her then, and with one human muse on the scene now, and maybe more to come, we’ll have help.”
He nods crisply. “Right, of course. I’m on it.”
She smiles her thanks at him, and then she asks me, “Then my work here is done?” But what she’s really saying is farewell.
“It is.” I clasp her in a tight embrace and then let her go on her way.
When she’s gone, I’m left with Julien. I’m excited and nervous. As a Muse, I didn’t have to worry about what happened next, because it was always the same. Here, I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know anything about how the world works without my shackles.
But I want to find out. My God, I can’t wait to find out.
Julien takes my hand, brushing his thumb over my bare wrist. “How did it work? She took them off, just like that?”
“Just like that,” I confirm, smiling with delight at his touch. With delight at being here with him. “Took them off and put them on her own wrists.”
“So, all the paintings you inspired? They’ll be okay?”
I nod. “Thalia will hold them up now. She’s taken over my duty, and now here I am. Look . . .” I flick my fingers—no silver dust comes out.
Only one thing could make me happier in this moment, and that’s to tell him everything this means. I’m here to stay. No magic in the world can make me fall out of love with him again.
“Julien, will you have me back?” I reach for his hand and hold it between mine. “I want to be in your life because you are in my heart. I’m back for good because I’m in love with you.”
“You are?” His face lights with happiness.
“I am. I feel it all. Everything I ever felt for you, only bigger and brighter.” I trace a jagged line across his palm and whisper, “Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story. Of a new way back to you.”
My heart is full to bursting, and Julien looks the same.
“Really? You really . . .?”
I take his other hand and tug him closer. “I feel like I’m dancing at the Moulin Rouge, like I’m on the beach in the South of France, like I’m floating under a starry night. I want to spend all my days with you.”
My voice breaks as I’m overcome. I am overwhelmed with all I want becoming real. I am overjoyed that I’m here with him, on the other side, and he holds my face, brushes the hair from my cheek, and presses a soft kiss to my lips.
Oh, have I missed this and yet it’s fresh and new.
It feels like a first kiss, and a promise.
It feels like all the starry nights and all the sunlit days I want to spend with him.
And then it turns deeper, longer, and we don’t stop.
Because in our kiss, I can taste forever. A forever that’s real, here in Paris together, Julien and me.
We break the kiss, and I’m laughing with happiness, and so is he. We kiss through our laughter, and when we pull apart again, I cup his cheeks and say, “I feel so much. But more than anything, I feel like a woman in love with a man.”
And it feels like freedom. I’m free from the chains that bound me for centuries. Free from the only life I’ve ever known.
I’m free to forge a whole new one with this man. One full of love.
“And I’m still insanely in love with you,” he says.
“Good. I was worried.”
He scoffs like that’s absurd. “Why would you worry about that?”
“Because once I started to feel love again, I felt how much I missed you. How painful it was to be parted. All I wanted was to make my way back to you.” I squeeze him tight. “That’s still all I want—just you, Julien.”
“You have me,” he says. “You don’t have to question that at all.”
He runs his thumbs along my naked wrists.
“You look so good without bracelets,” he says, his eyes traveling lovingly over my face. “You look so good in the daylight.”
I am so glad that anyone can see us now as we kiss on the bridge over the river outside the Louvre. Anyone can see us now, but no one pays attention, because this is Paris. We’re just another pair of young lovers becoming another set of ornaments in this city.
We are not darting in and out of paintings after midnight. We do what anyone can do.
And today, we spend the morning kissing and strolling, but eventually, we have to speak of practical matters.
“So what do we do now?” Julien asks. “What do you want to do? Where are you going to live?”
“I don’t know,” I say with a laugh. “I haven’t thought that far.”
He raises a playful brow. “I have room. It’s a little flat?—”
“Yes!” The word bursts from me. I won’t let that chance pass me by. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I want that.”
“But I share the flat with my sister,” he says, laughing.
“Oh.” Had he not been asking what I thought?
“It’s all right. It’s a big flat, with our rooms on opposite sides. Adaline won’t mind, but maybe you would.”
“I don’t care. It’s with you.” I feel weightless and buoyant, like the world is new and everything is possible. “Don’t you see? You’re the reason why I’m not a Muse anymore. I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you outside of the gardens. I want this city to be ours.”
He slides his hands around my waist and pulls me close. “It will be. We’ll walk around Paris, see everything. All the art—it’s everywhere, and it’s incredible. And you’ll meet my friends.” He gives a rueful laugh. “They’ll certainly be dying to meet you.”
It sounds amazing to me.
I loop my arms around his neck, and I can’t stop smiling either. “I can’t wait. And I think I might try my hand at painting. I have quite a good eye, and lots of ideas about what to make,” I say, and slant a sly smile up at him. “The only thing missing is . . . a muse. Maybe you can fit me into your schedule?”
“Yes, I think I could work you in.” He kisses my forehead, and when I close my eyes in happiness, he drops kisses onto my eyelids, my cheeks, my lips. “It’s exclusive though. You can’t have any other muse.”
I shake my head, still smiling. “I don’t want anyone but you.”
That leads to more kissing, and after a while, we continue our walk. “Are you hungry?” Julien asks. “Because I could really go for a chocolate croissant. Funny thing—I know this great bakery, and I’d love to take you there.”
“Take me there, Julien.”
We amble along the river to the best bakery in Paris, together, outside the museum and free from the curse.
Free to be together.
Free to do what any other man and woman in this city might do.
Kiss.
And touch.
And laugh.
And love.
It’s a wonderful world, this one. Full of art and love and food and friends and a new kind of magic.
The kind that love makes possible.