THE TIRELESS PURSUIT
Laurent resigned from his position in court to start afresh with his daughter. He became obsessed with further mastering his craft to honour the memory of his wife—the one true Queen of his life—L'Queen.
Overtime the initial awkwardness and strangeness between Laurent and his long unseen daughter, Juliette, melted away as they lived a simple, gratifying life together. He could not help but smile each time he saw his daughter's face furrowed in concentration as she mixed a potion or tried a new formula. Like Laurent, she too shared his passion for reaching ever greater heights in enhancing and renewing beauty.
Time passed and life was good for them. Laurent grew older and took much joy from welcoming a fine son-in-law who shared their dedication and devotion to the relentless quest of cultivating the art of beauty and reaching the true essence of L'Queen: the pursuit of perfection.
This time of idyllic joy was unfortunately short-lived. The French Revolution was at hand. The people rose against the decadence and the uncaring indifference of the French aristocracy and the upper classes. Laurent and his family, through the virtue of their ceaseless hard work, was comfortably provided for (though by no means wealthy), was nonetheless in danger because of his previous ties to the Royal Court.
"Father, we must leave!" Juliette pleaded with him.
"I cannot. I must continue my work. I would not dishonor your mother's memory by leaving, not when I am so close to finally perfecting the formula." Laurent's brow furrowed in worry as he reached out, almost unconsciously, to the treasured stash of letters left by his dearly beloved and oft-missed wife.
Juliette understood her father's thoughts. Even after so many years, he still missed her. The sorrow of her passing was as fresh to him as if only a day had passed since her death.
She reached out her hand and placed it over her father's knotted, stained, weather-beaten oak tanned fingers. She guided his hand clutching the letters tightly and carefully put the letters into the inner pocket of his jacket.
"As long as there is life, there is hope Father. Our pursuit of perfection will continue. I promise we will never give up till we've found the true essence of L'Queen," Juliette told her father as her fingers tightened round her father's hand.
Laurent looked up and smiled. "You're right of course Juliette."
She took his hand in hers and together they walked through the doorway: vanishing into the bright daylight.
Overtime the initial awkwardness and strangeness between Laurent and his long unseen daughter, Juliette, melted away as they lived a simple, gratifying life together. He could not help but smile each time he saw his daughter's face furrowed in concentration as she mixed a potion or tried a new formula. Like Laurent, she too shared his passion for reaching ever greater heights in enhancing and renewing beauty.
Time passed and life was good for them. Laurent grew older and took much joy from welcoming a fine son-in-law who shared their dedication and devotion to the relentless quest of cultivating the art of beauty and reaching the true essence of L'Queen: the pursuit of perfection.
This time of idyllic joy was unfortunately short-lived. The French Revolution was at hand. The people rose against the decadence and the uncaring indifference of the French aristocracy and the upper classes. Laurent and his family, through the virtue of their ceaseless hard work, was comfortably provided for (though by no means wealthy), was nonetheless in danger because of his previous ties to the Royal Court.
"Father, we must leave!" Juliette pleaded with him.
"I cannot. I must continue my work. I would not dishonor your mother's memory by leaving, not when I am so close to finally perfecting the formula." Laurent's brow furrowed in worry as he reached out, almost unconsciously, to the treasured stash of letters left by his dearly beloved and oft-missed wife.
Juliette understood her father's thoughts. Even after so many years, he still missed her. The sorrow of her passing was as fresh to him as if only a day had passed since her death.
She reached out her hand and placed it over her father's knotted, stained, weather-beaten oak tanned fingers. She guided his hand clutching the letters tightly and carefully put the letters into the inner pocket of his jacket.
"As long as there is life, there is hope Father. Our pursuit of perfection will continue. I promise we will never give up till we've found the true essence of L'Queen," Juliette told her father as her fingers tightened round her father's hand.
Laurent looked up and smiled. "You're right of course Juliette."
She took his hand in hers and together they walked through the doorway: vanishing into the bright daylight.