Sixtine Read online

  Caroline Vermalle

  Sixtine - Book I

  First published by North Wharf Press in 2018

  Copyright © Caroline Vermalle, 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  First edition

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  SIXTINE - Book I

  This is a *preview* of Book I in the SIXTINE trilogy.

  The trilogy is currently only available in French.

  The English version will be released in 2018.

  To be informed of the books’ release in your country, please enter your email here.

  Happy reading!

  What the French blogs have said about this book:

  ✭✭✭✭✭ This year’s best book (THRONE OF BOOKS)

  A gem, an exceptional and fascinating read (LE SOUFFLE DES MOTS)

  ✭✭✭✭ A fabulous story (PHEBUSA)

  ✭✭✭✭✭ A triumph (PRETTY BOOKS)

  ✭✭✭✭✭ I adore it (LA CHRONIBOOK)

  Caroline Vermalle’s writing is incredible, every page was gripping (LUCIE BOOK)

  A superior enigma, a surprisingly rich book (LES LIVRES D’ALILY ET AUDREY)

  ✭✭✭✭✭ A complex and accomplished book (A LITTLE MATTER WHATEVER)

  A real page-turner (L’ANTRE DE LA LOUVE)

  A great adventure novel (L’UNIVERS LIVRESQUE D’UNE PETITE NOISETTE)

  SIXTINE is must-read! (DU SOLEIL ET DES LIVRES)

  ✭✭✭✭ A plot worthy of the best thrillers (A-LU-CI-NE)

  The plot is breathtaking. A real gem (DANS NOTRE PETITE BULLE)

  ✭✭✭✭✭ Possibly my favorite book this year!! (LE CARNET DE LECTURE DE NINIS)

  An incredible tale, an unputdownable read (SARIAHLIT)

  ✭✭✭✭ Caroline Vermalle’s style is magical and haunting (MEGWORLD)

  In one word: prodigious! (LE CAHIER DE LECTURE DE NATHAN)

  I loved every page (BOOKENSTOCK)

  ✭✭✭✭ I recommend this atypical novel (NYX SHADOW)

  ✭✭✭✭ Fascinating (UN JOUR UN LIVRE)

  An amazing discovery (MON COIN LECTURE)

  The author’s writing style is a marvel (LES PETITS MOTS DE SAEFIEL)

  A little gem (L’OISEAU LYRE)

  An explosive read!! Grab it ASAP!! (AGNAH’S WORLD)

  1

  Chapter 1

  Paris, May 21

  “And they lived happily ever after…”

  Jessica crossed the dawn-tinted street, her heart straining to take flight. As she approached the giant glass pyramid, her memory conjured up her mother’s voice and the fairy tales she would read to Jessica in her humble but happy bedroom. After almost twenty years, Jessica would have given everything for her mother to be beside her to see the sunrise over Paris: to experience the sublime awakening of the Tuileries Gardens, or to bathe in the liquid gold that the rising sun now washed over the crystalline facade of the Louvre Pyramid. If only she could have lived to see this most blessed of days. The day she would marry a prince.

  Her aunt Gigi had warned her against it but Jessica, as usual, wouldn’t be swayed. Whilst she had reluctantly conceded to tradition by not sharing a room with Seth, her fiancé, on the eve of their wedding, her hotel was only a stone’s throw away and with an hour before the arrival of hairdressers, makeup artists and stylists, she could not resist.

  Escorted by a security guard, she entered the giant glass pyramid that formed the entrance to the museum below ground, her chest heaving with a heady cocktail of impatience and curiosity. This was where the party would be held. Seth had organized everything without her - and it promised to be a grand affair.

  And yet, beneath it all, there was a feeling that she couldn’t place - a sensation that would creep back into the shadows of her consciousness whenever she tried to examine it.

  But just as she thought she had hold of it, she saw a couple openly staring and pointing at her and the thread was lost. She was not yet used to the lingering looks she received from strangers as she passed. For months, the tabloids had been publishing photos, albeit blurred, of the happy couple, on a yacht in Monaco or in the streets of New York. With her blue eyes hidden behind sunglasses, her long,wavy blonde hair and oval face beaming with the light of her twenty-two years, she always managed a generous smile with just the right amount of shyness: she was perfectly cast in the role of the girl that came out of nowhere to marry the young billionaire.

  Her body, with its generous curves, endless legs and a carefree vitality, was so at odds with the skeletal forms of the models that had been a regular feature by Seth’s side in previous issues of the same tabloids. Her beauty was vibrant, yet wonderfully ordinary. It seemed that people were genuinely happy for her and readers couldn’t get enough her story which by now was so well known:

  Jessica Desroches had met Seth Pryce in Manhattan during the performance of a play in which she had a bit part. This young French woman who had dreamed of America all her life and had ended up in New York chasing a glory that stubbornly refused to come. He was thirteen years older than her, single, and freshly crowned by a place in the Forbes 500. Two months later he asked her to marry him.

  And now, six months after that first meeting, the lucky lady stood on a balcony that overlooked her dream come true. And she was breathless.

  As she cast her eyes over the Richelieu wing of the Louvre Museum, she struggled to take it all in: the glass roof that looked to have been cut from sapphire and which covered a courtyard of marble and sandstone which, in turn, was populated by dozens of ancient sculptures that stood sentry over the preparations. Fountains of white orchids combined with fifty thousand other flowers, erupting from their arrangements to cover every inch of the space: columns, banqueting tables and even the balustrades of the grand staircase.

  Each of the three hundred golden chairs sat empty like bee’s wax candles, yet to be lit, within a giant candelabra that dripped with crystal. It was an explosion of luxury in white, gold and blue - a blue that was pure, vibrant and deep.

  The same blue ran like a silken thread through almost every detail of the day’s events and the newspapers claimed Seth had chosen it because it most closely matched the colour of Jessica’s eyes. But Jessica knew it was not her eyes that had inspired her fiancée but those of a queen who had been dead for three thousand years. It was Egyptian blue. She also knew that the reason Seth had chosen Paris was not because Jessica was French but because the greatest of all the ancient Egyptian treasures which had fascinated him since childhood were to be found right here, in the museum.

  Standing there, gasping at the splendour of it all, Jessica finally grasped the feeling that lay in the shadows of her mind and which had driven her to come here against her aunt’s wishes: she wanted to be sure that it was all true.

  The six months of their romance had charged ahead like an unbridled stallion and to keep her sanity, Jessica had held back from believing in what was happening. It was too beautiful and too big to be real. She no longer believed in fairy tales and yet, here she was, living one. She was getting married to a man that girls would literally have killed for. Now, she had to admit it: her childhood dreams had been fulfilled - and then some.

  The invitations had been sent and the ceremony would take place at one of
Paris’s grandest churches, the historic Eglise de Madeleine, which looked like an ancient pantheon; a cocktail reception would be given in the private apartments of Napoleon III, which had been opened especially for the occasion; a famous chef with more stars to his name than most constellations had created the menu for a dinner that was to be served amongst the Louvre’s treasures.

  Jessica held onto the cool, stone railing, watching the preparations for her wedding as if she were one of the painted angels on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Suddenly she felt a breath of wind, like a caress, across her cheek. Although her mother had died twelve years ago, a part of her was still there, somewhere inside her. When she thought about her, she could almost feel her presence, like the touch of a feather, and these gentle manifestations sparked within her the outpouring of something like infinite hope. For a few moments Jessica felt invincible, protected by this greater love. Yet she knew that it could not last and that inevitably the real world would resume its course. These moments always left in their wake the taste of powerlessness. For fate had taken her mother away from her and so nobody could defeat fate.

  She looked at the people down in the hall, perhaps two dozen of them, working at a frenzied but practiced pace. To one side, set on an easel like an architect’s drawing was an enormous table plan that dictated where 300 guests would be seated. Tonight, it would be different strangers that would look and stare - not normal people like her, but the great and the good of the highest of high society. And surely they would judge her.

  At the mere thought of all the attention, her stomach churned. She had done nothing to deserve it, nor had she inherited the right to it by a noble birth. She was only there by the grace of a her smile - could it really be worth that much? Perhaps her good fortune was only the result of a distracted god, and she wondered how long it would take before the mistake was corrected and his blessings revoked. Was this all just a cruel mirage?

  She realized that even then, with only a few hours before the ceremony, she did not yet really believe it all. Something would happen and then everything would crumble.

  Lost in her thoughts and dazzled by the enchanting scene before her, she did not immediately notice the figure that stood behind a balcony on the other side of the cavernous space, watching her. When she did, she recognised him immediately: the slim and straight backed posture, the brown hair with golden highlights and the almost feline ability to stand perfectly still. It was Seth’s best friend and best man: Thaddeus di Blumagia.

  She knew from Seth that he was an artist, painter and sculptor. She had only met him once before, at her own engagement party. On that day, after she had seen him across the room, she had been teased by her friends who couldn’t understand why, out of everything else, she had picked out that one strange characteristic, “What do you mean he stands impossibly still? Jessica, sweetie, the man is gorgeous, rich and single and all you can say is that he stands still? If you weren’t already engaged to Seth, I would almost feel sorry for you!”

  Thaddeus was still looking at her and even at that distance Jessica knew he was smiling. She felt the warmth in her cheeks as she blushed. Gigi had probably been right, she should not have come. If Thaddeus was here then Seth was probably nearby too and didn’t they say that the groom should not see his bride before the wedding, or risk seven years of bad luck?

  Suddenly, a great bellow filled echoed off the sandstone walls of the hall, “Thaddeus!”

  It was Seth.

  He stood in the middle of the room, waving and gesturing to his friend in a language that only they understood. Like the eye of a storm, men and objects were suddenly pulled towards Seth until everything slowly revolved around him. Deeply tanned with an easy elegance for a man so large, he had a face that looked to have been carved by the elements from some ancient piece of rock. His life was like his clothes: straight, expensive and tailor made. Dark, also, some would have said, but they would have been mistaken: Seth had a voracious appetite for life and he was one of the few men on earth whose friendship was literally priceless.

  Seth had not seen Jessica and instinctively, she took a few steps back from the railing - she did not want to tempt fate any more than she had already done. But Seth didn’t notice anyway. He had already honed in on one of the organisers: the arrangement of the tables was not correct and the candles were the wrong size. He insisted, in a calm voice that brooked no objection, that everything be changed at once.

  Instead of acquiescing immediately, the hapless organiser began to explain the reasons behind the changes but Seth was unmoved. His next words were laced with an anger that was only barely contained. Seth used wrath like an artist used colour and on this occasion it was a quiet anger, confident and haughty. He gave no rebuttal to the reasons given by the minion, he simply explained in a few words, some of which reached Jessica as she retreated further into the shadows, that this wedding was like no other: he would marry only once. Everything had to be perfect.

  Jessica smiled. She knew that the next time she saw the room, it would glow in exactly the way that Seth had ordered it. Seth the pathological perfectionist; Seth the unsuspecting romantic and Seth, her soon-to-be husband.

  The hands of the clock in the Richelieu wing were nearly pointing to eight o’clock. In a few minutes, an army of assistants would arrive at her hotel to help prepare the bride for her big day. Jessica took one last look at the magic that was unfolding below her and tried not to think about her mother, the uncontrollable nature of destiny or all those invisible things that haunted the shadows of so lovely a morning. As she hurried toward the exit, a voice called out from behind her.

  “Running away?”

  She stopped and turned. It was Thaddeus.

  “No, I’m not,” replied Jessica as she awkwardly placed a wayward lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

  “Maybe you should,” he said smiling mischievously. “I wouldn’t blame you. I told Seth that all these candles look terrifying – it looks like a wake.”

  “I’ll be late,” Jessica stammered as she backed away towards the exit.

  “Well, when princesses are late, who knows what can happen? Do you think that maybe it will all turn into a pumpkin?”

  Jessica was stung. Thaddeus’ smile seemed genuine and his beautiful grey eyes sparkled, but knowing as he did her humble origins, the Cinderella reference seemed callous and improper.

  “Well,” she replied coolly, “the mice haven’t finished my dress and my fairy godmother is waiting for me in the basement kitchen, so I guess I better not keep her waiting.”

  His smile faltered immediately, “I am an idiot,” he said. “It seems to happen whenever I have something important to say.”

  Jessica was surprised to see a flash of genuine anxiety in the lead-grey eyes that momentarily revealed an unexpected depth to an already handsome face.

  “I’ve been watching you on the balcony, summoning up the courage to speak to you, and I thought I had chosen just the right words, but now I can see that I have offended you.” His smile returned and this time the shadow was gone, replaced by the easy charm and strange stillness she had noticed that first day at the engagement party.

  “What I meant to say is that I love Seth like a brother but believe me, he drives me mad like only a brother can. His perfectionism will be the end of him, I am sure. All this opulence, this gold, this luxury…” He gestured towards the hall, “Later, you will seem so blasé, as if this is all so normal for them… but don’t be fooled. Anyone would be blinded by all this…”

  “… not only you.” Thaddeus had not said these last four words, but Jessica had understood. She stared at the room downstairs, which swirled around Seth.

  “I wanted to say that it is only a decoration, a spectacular distraction. Elegant? Indeed. Intoxicating? Absolutely. And this blue…who would have thought that calcium copper silicate would produce a pigment of such extraordinary brightness to rival all the jewels of the Fourth Dynasty?”

  He paused and turned
slowly to Jessica, “But no matter, remove all that glitters, Jessica, and what remains is a man, a woman and a promise in the name of love, life and death.”

  Jessica did not dare move. His words had gone straight to her soul without warning. The seriousness of his tone was at odds with the idle chatter she had become used to at society cocktail parties.

  “I saw you on this balcony, and I realised that I was the last messenger, who could tell to you that the only thing which counts, here and now, is the answer to this question: are you ready to make this promise?”

  She didn’t even hesitate.

  “Yes,” said Jessica.

  “In life, in death?” Thaddeus asked.

  Jessica looked him straight in the eye, he did not blink and he did not smile. Before her imagination could conjure up too deep a meaning, Jessica giggled.

  “You take your role as best man very seriously.”

  “Sorry, it must be the orchids, too much white makes me dramatic. Actually, Seth could not find a worse best man.”

  Their eyes met in a silence that sounded like a secret.

  “I have to go,” Thaddeus said finally as he turned to go, “the mice have not finished my suit either.”