He’s slow to leave but when he does I head to the library. I have been meaning to finish reading The Mysteries of Udolpho by: Ann Radcliffe. I focus on the endless words spread evenly on the pages to distract from my earlier worries. Soon I'm in the story, I'm lost in chapters of the book. The only thing that pulls me out of my trance is the loud dramatic door bell. This was immediately strange. My father wouldn't ring the bell. I don't think he's back yet I haven't seen or heard him. I get up from the brown leather studded chair in our large library. 

I hurry to the door, the person on the other side of it has already rung the bell again while I was going through my long thought process. I open the door cautiously. The tall and sharp man standing in front of me shows no emotion. He spoke coldly, “May I speak with you inside, Mr. Bernard.” Something is wrong. “Yes sir.” I'm scared, maybe for no reason but I'm still scared. I hesitantly step aside to let him come inside. Then, as I'm shutting the door he starts to speak again. “I'm very sorry to tell you that your father has died in a serious and tragic accident.” He explains slowly. “No, No that doesn't make sense.” My vision clouds. He can't die. I have no one else. I need to sit down. Tears are speeding down my face at a fast pace. I can't feel my legs. I don't understand. I hit the carpet, it's scratchy. 

I wake with an immediate headache. I'm laying on a stiff mahogany camelback sofa. Standing across the room is my Great aunt Abrielle. She’s my mothers aunt and I haven't seen her since the funeral 7 years ago. I do know for a fact though that my lovely Aunt doesn't enjoy my presence. My focus is snapped away from my aunt and there’s a sudden pit in my stomach. It's my father, he's dead. The man who delivered the earth shattering news is gone now. At first I’m pleased, but I have no details of how my father died. I know nothing about what happened. The person I cared for most is gone. I feel like there's a crushing weight on my chest. 

“Up now boy,” I hear Aunt Abrielle say. She frustrates me. I know she never liked my father but for god's sake at least tell me how he died. She stiffly walks over and grabs my upper arm to haul me upright. I can smell her strong herb scented water she's wearing as perfume.  It makes my eyes water. I pull my arm away indignantly. “How? How did my very own father die? Tell me now!” I say cruelly. I don't feel bad for the way I spoke to her. She's not telling me anything. “Watch your tone when you speak to me.” She says like she's offended. I stand up a little too fast and the edges of my vision cloud. I recovered quickly. “Who killed him?” My voice is quivering. I’m about to cry again. Aunt Abrielle spoke again. “No one killed him, he wasn't murdered, you foolish child. They say his heart simply stopped beating.” This doesn't make any sense. Surely if his heart was going to stop beating he would have mentioned something about chest pains. 

I walk quickly into my room and shut the door with excessive force. My father wasn't the healthiest person but he also seemed too young to have his heart stop. I sit on my bed and put my head in my hands. I just need to think. It seems far-fetched but I honestly don't believe my father's death was an accident. He was involved with things he wasn't supposed to be. He was supposed to be loyal to the aristocracy, loyal to the crown, and all the people a part of our society. Though on many occasions my father had meetings with people he would be executed for looking at too long. I have no proof that my fathers death was not an accident but how could the other generals have found out about my fathers secret meetings. I only have one person I can contact about the revolutionists groups. Uncle Briar, my fathers older brother. 

He is a well known for being a revoluntist group leader. They can't imprison him for crimes but they are keeping a close eye on what he does. My uncle Briar has always been sneaky. He used to sneak into our house and have secret meetings with my father. But after one close call they only write to each other, or used to write to each other. I wish he could be my guardian but I understand why they wouldn't trust a general's son with a revolutionist, but I desperately need to get out of this house and get to know my dear uncle. 

Aunt Abrielle would never let me leave the house without a genuine reason. I know my father has kept some of the important letters in his study. I hope at least one of them tells me where I can find Uncle Briar. I need a solid plan, people in the aristocracy would never be caught dead out in the middle of the night. So it will be difficult to make my way through the city especially because Uncle Briar likely lives somewhere around the 18th arrondissement. 

For now I need to wait. Aunt Abrielle can't know I have been snooping in my father's old office. Though technically the office is now mine as I'm the man of the house, it would still be suspicious. There's two short knocks on my intricate wooden door so I moved to get up and open it, but it swung open before I could make it off my bed. “Because this news was so unexpected I didn't have time to bring anything here, now that I will be staying,” she explains. I’m not sure how to respond. “So I need your help with all my stuff.” She says like it's obvious. I suppose it was pretty obvious she wanted my help, but my head still feels like it's full of clouds. 

I’m walking down the uneven stone road carrying my aunt's wooden crate that holds her small white dog, Pippa. The crate has given me two splinters on our walk over. I have no idea how she ever carries this crate anywhere. My other hand grasps her two leather suitcases. One of the cases is for my aunt and the other is filled to the brim with Pippa’s dog bowl, hand engraved leather leash and matching collar, wool and linen blend dog bed, and a dozen fancy leather toys. This dog lives a life of luxury, though I suppose I do too.  

Aunt Abrielle has one crossbody book bag and is walking a lot faster than me. She is also visibly annoyed that I'm walking at about half the pace she is. “Hurry up.” 

I set all her bags down on the foot of the guest bedroom. Aunt Abrielle just left for tea with her other posh friends. Now is my chance to snoop in my fathers study. My fathers old study, that is. I need to find out more information about my father, my uncle and their revolutionist’s group, the Jacobins. I don't just need to find the evidence of my fathers betrayal to the crown, but I need to get rid of it. When the crown sends a delegate to collect his confidential documents and letters they will also likely be instructed to search the unrelated files as well. That could ruin the entire life that my father had built for us and it could put me in danger, just like it put him in danger. 

The door to the study creaks open. The room smells of old and important books. One of the walls is covered from floor to ceiling in leather books. I hope to read them all one day. I cross the room slowly. I’m being cautious so as to not disturb what is left of my fathers scent. His desk is exactly as it was. His flowy quill is sitting on the right side of his old desk and a stack of rolled parchment on the left. His office is slightly cluttered with shoes he's kicked off after a difficult day at work or his long wool coat that slipped off the large extravagant coat rack. 

I open the top drawer, it is full of small glass ink bottles and more new and unused quills. The middle drawer has some of moms old letters to my father. There are multiple letters that are tied together with twine. I will come back to read them soon but I'm not sure how much time I have left until my aunt gets back. My moms old locket is laid neatly next to the large stack of letters. I gently grab it and open it. There is a lock of my hair. I remember my mom showing me the hair in the locket when I was little. She must have cut my hair when I was asleep. I put her necklace in the pocket of my trousers, I take a deep breath and open the final and bottom drawer. The drawer doesn't have much inside but it looks different. Then it hits me, this drawer isn’t as deep as the others. I knock on the bottom. It sounds hollow. The rest of the huge wooden desk is sturdy and solid. I try to peel the bottom up, and with a little tug it pops free. 

Underneath the thin slab of wood is many rolls of parchment and a few letters. It all looks completely normal but there has to be a reason my father hid it. I pick up a roll of parchment titled, 18th arrondissement movement. I don't understand why this needs to be hidden. There's many more rolls, and lots of them are about movements, causes, and issues. I don't immediately recognize any names on the letters but one of them seems familiar, Brambles. 

The open letter was short. It was addressed to my father, but it was signed Brambles. Brambles was the nickname that my father had given my uncle Briar. It was a smart way to secretly sign a letter in a way very little people would recognize. The letter didn't have anything super important  but I did give one address. If I'm right this is where I will find Brambles. The address is also a place in the 18th arrondissement, so it could be difficult to get there. Suddenly I hear the oak front door swing open and then shut. Aunt Abrielle’s home, I hear her walking across the foyer. 

I have to get out of the study before she comes upstairs and finds me. I take the letter and put it in my pocket along with the locket and run quietly to the door. It creaks loudly, I pray aunt Abrielle hasn't already heard me. I close the door just as I hear her start to walk up the light wooden coloured stairs. I run silently down the hallway until I get to my room. I open the door and slip inside. My heart is beating from the adrenaline. I pick up a book from my nightstand and quickly hop onto my bed. Just as I still, my door is being opened and aunt Abrielle walks in. “Why on earth do you have your shoes on in bed,” she snarls. 

We are sitting and eating dinner. Aunt Abrielle requested pork for dinner. I find pork revolting. I was sitting in my usual seat but she has chosen to sit in my mothers old seat. No one has sat there in 7 years. Her sitting where my mother sat so long ago makes my skin crawl. I would have been more upset about it but my mind was otherwise occupied. How could I get to my uncle Briar?

I forced down the rest of my food and excused myself and headed back to my room. To get to my uncle I will have to walk, but I would look suspicious leaving our neighborhood late at night. I also don't really want to walk in the streets of Paris with the tension between the city and the crown. The poverty in many arrondissements have also worsened recently. I will have to leave before walking down the street is suspicious. 

I grab a leather briefcase and sneak back into the study. I grab the rest of the papers and the letters and put them into the briefcase in case they will be useful to my uncle. I head cautiously back into the hallway making sure my aunt isn't going to pop out from around the corner and ambush me. I hear her angry voice coming from the kitchen. This is the perfect time to sneak out, my aunt is too distracted to hear me leaving.

I slip out the front door and head down the stone pathway. The stone pathway I have walked down so many times before. I leave my house and right now I have no plans to return. I am going to walk to the area I suspect that my uncle lives in. Once I get to that area I can ask for directions. I only know that area because my father has taken me to see the community a few times. 

I walk, I walk so far my feet ache. I walk through many neighborhoods. I pass many different people and many different places. I realise how lucky I was to live where I did. The road is uneven and old. It is almost completely dark and there's hardly anyone out. I’m sure I have to be close but I’m losing hope. Then I see him walking down the street. He's walking fast  towards me so I freeze. He looks up and we lock eyes. He squints and he looks confused, I'm sure he's having trouble recognizing me but I know it's him. “Antione,” he says, but it's not a question. He knows it's me. 

“Brambles,” I reply. His mouth is open. “I heard what happened, Ii'm so sorry,” He says, looking sympathetic. I know he's talking about my father. “He's actually why I’m here,” I explain as I walk closer. “Want to help you, like my father did,” I say with pride. He still looks confused but eventually he says, “why don't you come meet the boys.” He starts to walk and I follow. 

We walk for a few minutes and eventually we come to a small average looking house. It looks completely normal. He turns to me and says, “If you really want to join you can't tell anyone. And I think it's best if you stay with me from now on, if that's ok with you,” He says with a smile. 

“That sounds perfect,” I happily reply. He leads me up the steps. Then knocks on the door. The lights are all off inside but someone opens the door and peaks outside. Once they see my uncle they open the door fully and tell someone behind them to relight the candles. The candles are lit and I see a short man with dark curly hair. “Briar,” the short man smiles with a lopsided grin. He opens the door fully to let us in. Uncle Briar gestures for me to enter first. I hesitate for only a moment then step inside. There is many people around the room. They all turn to look at us. Uncle Briar steps in behind me. “This is my nephew Antione,” my uncle explains proudly. Most of them smile and welcome me, although some of them still look weary. 

My uncle properly introduced me to everyone. There was a few boys that were particularly friendly. Their names were Louis, Joseph, and Ppierre. They quickly explained what was happening with their group. They called themselves the Jacobins Club. My Uncle walks over. “Sorry to interrupt but it is late boys, and Antione you can have my bed Ii'll sleep on the couch,” He says. “No I can just sleep on the couch, you don't have to give me your bed,” I insisted. Uncle Briar is relentless and honestly I dont have the energy to argue. Everyone either leaves or heads to one of the rooms. I climb into the small bed that is my uncle’s. I’m happier now than I have been in a while. 

I wake up to the sound of voices in the living room. It sounds hushed but urgent. I walk into the living room and everyone falls silent. “What's going on?,” I question. Pierre holds up a letter and says, “There was a letter at the doorstep addressed to you.” I walk over and grab the letter from Pierre. It is addressed to me, it also says it's from General Durand. They must have followed me here. I open it cautiously. The letter explains that if I continue to live with the Jacobins I will be cut off from my inheritance and that I won't be a part of the Noble’s anymore. I tell the room what the letter threatens. “We don't expect you to give up everything for us,” Louis says simply. “I've already decided, I want to stay here and help you guys,.” I claim with no hesitation. My uncle looks happily at me. “And you're welcome to stay,” he adds. I quickly write a short semi-condescending letter, then I give it to Joseph who said he knows a merchant that can get the letter to the generals by tonight. We hand the letter off to the merchant who I pay, then he promises to get the letter there before dawn. 

While we wait they tell me about themselves and stories from their pasts. I also got to know my uncle and what he had to do with my father when Ii'm reminded that I brought a briefcase full of parchment and letters I thought he might find useful. I hurry to grab it and my uncle looks shocked. “What on earth is all of this?,” he asks confused. “Its the secret documents that I found in my fathers study before I left. I thought you might find them useful,.” I explained. He looks at me shocked and says, “You are truly extraordinary.” The rest of the evening is spent reading the parchment and letters, trying to get an idea of why my father would hide seemingly regular parchment. 

All of the sudden Pierre gasps then stands up. “They have plans to ambush us,” He says horrified. “What?” Louis says confused. Then Piere passes the letter to my uncle. He reads silently then looks up grimly. “They say they are going to attack tonight,” he says. “Oh my dear lord,” I hear myself whisper. My uncle looks the most calm out of everyone in the room. He gets up, grabs his coat and says, “Tell the rest of the house what's happening, I need to warn the others.” He walks out the door and we sit in shock for a moment before everyone moves to get up. Joseph walks out of the living room to the kitchen to speak to someone else. 

What if I didn't decide to come last night? What if I didn't bring the papers? Uncle Briar walks in with many more people and tells everyone we have to get out of the house because they now know where we are. Some people grab shotguns from under the couch and others come out of rooms holding them. It takes me a minute to understand what's happening but then it clicks. There's going to be a big fight, a battle. Everyone files out of the room and on my way out my uncle hands me a shotgun and tells me that now's my chance to back out, to go somewhere safer. I answer with no hesitation. “My father would be here fighting with you, so I'm here fighting with you for him.

We move to the quiet deserted street. People from alleyways also step out and join the group. Then people start to bring out tables and bedframes to barricade the street. Everyone is quiet. Then there's the faint sound of synchronized footsteps and horse hooves on the stone road. They get closer and closer. My heart is beating a million miles a minute. My uncle is standing beside me, he looks like my father in this moment. The soldiers turn the corner, there's so much more of them then I expected. They stop on the other side of our sparse barricade. We can see them through the gaps. They shout many warnings that I can't hear. There's so much static in my ears. Everyone on our side is silent for a few moments then the word that can actually be heard over the static is “Cannons!” Then there's chaos. Cannonballs shoot the wooden barricade at the same time. People try to jump out of the way but not everyone makes it. The rest of the soldiers on the other side draw their shotguns, so we do too. 

My uncle yells fire and so everyone does. I put my finger on the trigger and pull. It shoots then immediately kicks back into my shoulder. The people all around me are fearless. They stand rooted trying to protect their community. Many deafening gunshots followed by screams ring out. It's horrifying. All of the sudden I see Joseph collapse to the ground. He is holding his chest. I duck down and fall to my knees at his side. I put my arms under him and pull him to the side. He gasping for breath but it's over quickly. Now he's making no sounds. I knew something like this would happen but it feels so horrible at this moment. I don't have time to mourn right now. Now I have to get back to my uncle and stand strong. 

I run back towards where I was standing previously but before I can get there I feel a shooting pain in my left thigh. I fall to the ground and my head hits a jagged rock. I can't move, I feel paralyzed. I feel someone shouting at me as they pick me up and drag me over to the side where I had just dragged my dear friend. My vision focuses for a second, I see my uncle's worried face right before I black out. 

I awake with pains throughout my body. I'm laying in a white bed. There is no one in the room except for my uncle who is sitting in the corner. He is asleep but as a distant door slams he wakes up. He looks at me relieved. “Thank goodness you're ok,” he says. I’m confused about why I am in the hospital. My uncle gets up with a little difficulty and walks over. That's when I see his bandaged arm and it all comes back to me. I look up at him horrified. “What happened? Did we win?,” I question. He looks down then back up at me. “We somewhat won. They did some damage though, not many of us survived. After a long battle and the damage we also caused they agreed that the damage to the city couldn't continue. They agreed to meet with us and discuss some of our demands. It's not totally done yet but things are looking better,” he explains. He also tells me that I've been asleep in the hospital for two days and that I was shot in the leg. I also have a deep cut in the side of my head but the doctor said I would likely make a full recovery. 

We have many details he needs to fill in for me but the one thing we agreed on first is that from now on I would be living with my uncle Briar for good. Although I don't expect aunt Abrielle to put up much of a fight about the situation.