December 25th, 1811

The sitting room was covered in boxes, ripped paper, and half-drunk cups of tea.

Four little children ran in sugar-fueled circles around the couches. A hound dog followed them, barking obnoxiously.

The tiniest one was three and the oldest was five. Two were Cosette and Frank's, two were Henri and I's.

Gabriel was gone for the week but his fiancee was still there for Christmas breakfast. She was petite and quiet. Gabriel had mellowed out for her.

Cosette and Frank were in town for a month, awaiting their next orders. They expected to be sent away to a newly-formed colony somewhere in Asia. The details weren't set in stone.

Colin was older than Anne and both had their father's green eyes which paired interesting with my brown hair.

Cosette's boys both had the Baudin jet black hair and green eyes. Desmond and Neil, named for their great uncle and grandfather, who were both now dead.

Henri pulled me up from the couch and brought me into the study. He kissed me, far too quickly, before handing me a book, wrapped in brown paper. I removed the twine which held the wrapping together.

The Princess and the Frog.

Henri was beaming. I kissed him again.

We hadn't lost our fire.

"Thank you," I said. My gift to him looked pathetic in comparison.

We had lost the copy of the book a couple years after Colin was born. Henri was convinced the little toddler had managed to destroy it. Or Otis, the stray Henri had taken in, had chewed it to shreds. It wouldn't be the first book lost to his stomach.

I smiled. Henri pulled me over to the couch. He sat down and stretched across the couch, head leaning against his shoulder and began reading.

The door creaked open a few minutes later and by the time the story was finished, Colin was sitting at my feet and Anne sat in her father's lap. Even Desmond and Neil, who had never been interested in their studies, seemed enthralled, listening from the highest rungs of the bookshelf ladder.

I shut the book and handed up to Neil who put it away, correctly, as their his father had taught him to. 

Life had gotten better.

These were the moments I lived for.

These were the moments I was truly born for.