The Story Of

Marie De'Lorraine

Throughout the Ages

My mother always told me not to go out after the sun set. And I, being young and rebellious in nature, always brushed away those words. Little did I know they served as a dire warning. Had I listened to them much later on in my life, everything could have been different.

The sun never stopped a young, fiery female like me. Immensely vain, I prided myself on the fact that I possessed astounding beauty. Women gossiped with jealousy, with men dissolved in my large hazel eyes. I wore the tight, flowing dresses so suitable for the late eighteenth century France.

I was an aristocrat, raised and bred with the golden blood of nobles flowing through my veins. Having grown up in riches, many people presumed I had not had a glimpse of the outside world. They were wrong.

My brothers told me I looked like an angel. I knew inside, I was a devil. Every night I escaped our mansion, wearing the clothes of a street rogue. Every night I met my people, my friends, the street tramps, the thieves, the pickpockets, the hookers. I learnt the life of the bottom classes of Paris, the street scum. My identity of a noblewoman, sitting right above the bourgeoisie, was well preserved. Louie took care of that. I was Malié, a name I had chosen myself. Now, I shall continue on to my past, to my initial encounter with a robber.


A/N Yes this first chapter is short, but it is only a sample chapter, incomplete. Of course, I have more written down, but not typed up. Please tell me what you think – I would really appreciate your opinions.