Chapter One: Charlotte Duchamps

Chapter one: Charlotte Duchamps

In the spring of 1880, the Château de la Lumière stood resplendent amidst the rolling hills of the French countryside. Its grand façade, adorned with intricate carvings and surrounded by meticulously maintained gardens, was a testament to the Duchamps family's wealth and status. Within its walls, life followed a rhythm as precise as the ticking of the ornate grandfather clock in the grand hall.

Charlotte Duchamps, a bright and spirited thirteen-year-old, awoke each morning to the soft chiming of her silver alarm clock. Her room, a spacious and elegantly decorated chamber, reflected her youthful energy and refined upbringing. Sunlight filtered through the lace curtains, casting a warm glow on the pastel walls and the delicate furnishings.

Her day began promptly at seven, when her governess, Mademoiselle Elise, would enter with a gentle knock. "Bon matin, Mademoiselle Charlotte," she would say, helping Charlotte into her day dress, a charming creation of pale blue silk with delicate embroidery. After a quick breakfast of fresh bread, fruit, and hot chocolate, Charlotte's lessons commenced in the study room.

Charlotte's education was as diverse as it was demanding. Mademoiselle Elise taught her French literature, instilling in her a love for the works of Victor Hugo and Alexandre Dumas. The mornings were also filled with lessons in history, geography, and mathematics, each subject opening new windows to the world beyond the chateau.

By midday, Charlotte joined her family for luncheon in the sunlit dining room. Her father, Monsieur Duchamps, was a stern but loving man, his presence commanding respect. Her mother, Madame Duchamps, was the epitome of grace and poise, always ensuring that Charlotte and her older brother, Louis, maintained the highest standards of decorum.

Afternoons were dedicated to more artistic pursuits. Charlotte practiced the piano under the watchful eye of Monsieur Bernard, the family's music tutor. The grand piano in the music room resonated with the melodies of Chopin and Debussy, filling the chateau with a sense of calm and beauty. Charlotte's nimble fingers danced across the keys, her music an expression of her inner world.

After music, Charlotte often joined Louis in the garden. Louis, at eighteen, was her confidant and best friend. He would regale her with stories of chivalry and adventure, their imaginations transforming the garden into a land of heroes and dragons. They would stroll through the rose bushes, play by the ornate fountain, and sometimes, when the mood struck, engage in a spirited game of badminton on the lawn.

As the day drew to a close, Charlotte attended to her correspondence. Writing letters to her friends and relatives, she meticulously practiced her penmanship and shared the highlights of her day. The evening meal was a formal affair, often attended by guests from nearby estates. Charlotte, in her evening gown, would listen intently to the conversations of the adults, absorbing their discussions on politics, art, and society.

The night ended with a moment of solitude. Charlotte would retreat to her room, where she spent an hour reading by the flickering candlelight. Her bed, adorned with a canopy of fine lace, offered a sanctuary of comfort. As she drifted off to sleep, the adventures she read about mingled with her own dreams, promising new wonders with the dawn of each day.

Such was the life of Charlotte Duchamps: a blend of discipline and delight, framed by the privileges of her station and enriched by the bonds of family. Her days, though structured and refined, were filled with the simple joys of discovery, learning, and love.