Chapter 8

Not a lot of people in the upper-crust society knew that the Carters' firstborn son had been estranged and missing for years. When William heard that his assistant had news about his older brother, he demanded frantically, "Where did you say he was?" "Briarwood." William went rigid. Briarwood. Why Briarwood again, of all places? … Ten hours or so later, he arrived at the Cemetery of the Martyrs again. The blood drained from his face when he got a proper look at the picture and name on the tombstone before him. William had prepared himself for the worst after he hadn't heard from or about his brother all these years, but seeing the actual tombstone still brought tears to his eyes. Footsteps sounded behind him. Thinking they belonged to his assistant or someone else, he roared in a dry, hoarse voice, "Go away!" However, the person only drew closer. Annoyed, William whirled, only to freeze when he saw me. "Giselle?" He noticed the cornflowers in my hands, and an intense roaring fi