Another Faust (8 page)

“Yeah, thanks, Vic, but mind reading some girl’s SAT score isn’t so riveting for the rest of us,” said Valentin. “But I wouldn’t mind hearing what filthy secrets our little Belle is hiding. . . .” Belle rolled her eyes.

“Actually,” said Victoria, “I
overheard
Bicé and Christian talking about how we all got here. About being adopted as babies, and when you started to change, Belle . . .”

Belle put down her nail file and perked up. “What did they say?”

“Bicé was upset about what you’ve done to her,” Victoria said to Belle.

“What? She doesn’t know anything. . . . I didn’t
do
anything!”

“She doesn’t know everything, but she knows that you think she’s ugly.”

“I never
said
that. I don’t think that at all!” said Belle.

“You sold your soul to the devil for a different face,” said Valentin. “That might tip her off,” he mused out loud while staring at the coin in his hand. “Sold your soul . . . sounds so Middle-earth.”

“She doesn’t
know,
Valentin. Neither one of them knows what we did. And I know it’s hard, but we have to keep our mouths shut.”

“It’s not hard,” said Valentin casually.

“Well, I’ve never kept anything other than this from Bicé. It wouldn’t do any of us any good if they knew. Remember what Vileroy said — those two are not in on this!”

Victoria sneered at Belle. “Don’t you feel like total scum for treating your own twin like this?”

“I love Bicé!” Belle shot back. “I’m just trying to protect her. You know how she is. This would kill her.”

“Oh, right. You’re doing it for
her
sake.”

“Vic, please! As if you know what it’s like to love anyone other than yourself!”

“Whatever, but they’ll find out what we did sooner or later,” said Victoria. “Christian is starting to feel guilty about stealing.”

“I know. And those false memories of ‘abandoned children’ and childhood traveling are so full of holes,” said Belle. “But we have to stay quiet. If Bicé found out, it would break her heart, and she would hate me forever.”

“I don’t know why Vileroy keeps those two around, anyway,” said Victoria. “I mean, I get why we don’t tell them. They’d probably screw things up. But why keep them here? Why give them gifts?”

“She probably likes the challenge. Trying to get them to make the deal,” said Valentin.

“Christian already has,” Victoria said confidently.

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Valentin, leaning back a little.

“He did, and then he changed his mind, remember?” said Victoria, remembering that day in the cottage five years ago.

“Then why keep him around?”

“Because there’s so much more she wants. I don’t think it’s just about that one deal,” said Belle. “She wants more from us.”

Belle bowed her head sadly, and Valentin changed the subject, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll tell you one thing: Christian and Bicé have some crazy ideas about where we got our gifts,” he said, laughing. “They think Vileroy’s some sort of magic godmother, or a witch or something.” He stared at his hand again. “Yeah . . . a really hot witch.”

“Gross, Valentin,” said Victoria, reading his thoughts.

On Christmas morning, Victoria and Madame Vileroy went out to have a look around their new city. Most of the streets were freshly plowed, and the sidewalks were covered with a yellow layer of snow. Despite the holiday, there were plenty of people on the street, chatting, walking their dogs, and shopping at the handful of stores that were open. Madame Vileroy loved to people-watch. She did it constantly — always peering and commenting on people’s behavior. If she spotted an argument, she would stop and listen.

Madame Vileroy was wearing her long black flowing coat and a stylish black hat. She was always elegantly dressed, always impressive. Victoria wondered to herself if her clothes were like the blue house, an illusion. In the end, she just didn’t care.

“We’ll go by subway,” Madame Vileroy said as she headed toward Lexington Avenue. The subway never failed to satisfy her desire to eavesdrop.

Victoria, on the other hand, despised traveling by subway. She hated everything that made her seem ordinary. She bought a single-ride pass and walked to the turnstiles. But instead of inserting her ticket and going through, Victoria went to the handicap entrance and pulled it open. The security guard shot her a look.

“I put my ticket there,” she pointed to the turnstile, “and it didn’t read it.” Then she smiled sweetly. The guard smiled back at the sprightly little girl and nodded. Madame Vileroy was already waiting on the platform.

“Strapped for cash?” Madame Vileroy raised an eyebrow.

“Their systems are so stupid. It’s just fun to outsmart them.”

Victoria tossed her unused ticket onto the tracks. A rat scampered out of the way.

“I’m glad that you know how smart you are, Victoria.” Madame Vileroy put her hand on Victoria’s shoulder. Her icy fingertips penetrated Victoria’s clothes and cooled her bones.

“You don’t think I’m being too proud?” Victoria said sarcastically.

“Nothing wrong with self-awareness, my dear.”

“They say pride is one of the seven deadly sins,” Victoria tested.

“The world is full of stupid people, Victoria. That’s why we have rules. But with enough intelligence, a person can be above the rules. She can
make
the rules.”

Victoria smiled. Sometimes Madame Vileroy made a lot of sense.

Half an hour later, they were in SoHo. Madame Vileroy kept a quick pace, the heels of her boots clicking as she walked. She didn’t seem to notice the pretty cobbled streets, the shops decorated in bright holiday colors, or the yellow glow of café windows, half covered in frost, barely revealing the animated scenes within. She just walked, and Victoria followed, taking big steps and concentrating hard. Madame Vileroy’s words comforted Victoria, but somehow, she always went back to worrying. The governess was the only person in the world that Victoria couldn’t cheat. And so reassurances never lasted long. Victoria kept thinking about the house.
What if someone finds out?
This was what worried her most about the idea that her successes might be illusions. If they were illusions, what’s to keep them from vanishing in an instant?

“Victoria?”

“Yes?”

“I have a bargain for you.”

Victoria perked up a little. She wished she could take just a little peek into Vileroy’s mind. Still, she was eager to listen, because unlike the others, she loved Madame Vileroy’s bargains. She always felt like she had won.

“I’m listening.”

“I know you’ve been wondering about how things will turn out for you.”

“I guess. . . .”

“You know there have been others, lots of others, over so many years.”

Victoria knew what Madame Vileroy was talking about. But she was stunned into silence. Was Vileroy going to tell her more than she ever had before?

“I can tell you more about them. I can show you the kind of success I’ve had before. And then you can judge for yourself . . .”

“You’re going to tell me who?”

“Yes.”

“What will you want from me?” Victoria tried to mask it with skepticism, but her voice cracked and gave away the fact that she was ready to give almost anything.

“It’s something very small.” Madame Vileroy put a long finger under Victoria’s chin and turned her face from side to side. “You, my dear, are my favorite. You’re the one that will go the furthest. And so, for you, my price is always low.”

Victoria swallowed hard. Her eyes shone with greed.

“I want you to be mine only,” said Madame Vileroy.

“But we already made that deal. . . .”

“No, my dear. I mean, I want you to be entirely in my service. I want you to promise me that you will never help the others — if they ever ask you.”

Victoria’s face grew dark. “They would never ask for my help. They don’t even like me.”

“That’s true. They don’t like you. But they might pretend. And you might be fooled.”

Victoria grew angry. “I’m smarter than they are!”

“Yes, and so you promise?”

“Yes. It’s a deal.”

“Good. And if you’re ever in the position to know something about them . . .”

“You want me to spy for you?”

“Victoria, you don’t know this now, but someday soon, you’re going to be in a position to know so much more than you know now.”

“But I already know how to cheat. I can know anything.”

“There are limits to that. People can feel it. Anyway, just promise me, Victoria. If I give you more powerful tools, you’ll be entirely mine.”

“Yes, I promise.”

Madame Vileroy smiled. They entered a pricey boutique that was open on one of the trendy streets of SoHo. The walls and floors were shiny and black, and the large space was wastefully devoted to only two mannequins and four tables holding a few neatly folded pieces.

“So?” asked Victoria.

“So, what?”

“You’re supposed to tell me how real this is. Who else has done it?”

Madame Vileroy picked up a black blouse from a nearby table and examined it. She played with the stitching, counting one by one like a rosary.

“I’ve been with some of the best. People who are famous, people who’ve gone down in history.”

Victoria stepped closer.

“But you, my dear, are the best one. The one with the most potential.”

Victoria’s eyes shone. “Like who? Who else have you helped?”

“I started with a girl in Egypt. I was with her since birth. She had more ambition than anyone in her time. She wanted to be pharaoh. And she was willing to give anything.”

“What was her name?”

Madame Vileroy ignored Victoria’s question. “There were so many others. There were years when I had several. There were years when I had none. Some years, they were all killed — in inquisitions and witch hunts. And then I lay low. There was a little girl who had a father who didn’t love her.”

Victoria’s heart skipped. Madame Vileroy went on, glancing at Victoria from the side of her eyes. “Her father had her sent away.”

“Where did she live?”

“London.” Madame Vileroy smiled. Victoria was confused.
Is she talking about me? But my father didn’t send me away. He doesn’t even know I’m gone.

“This little girl was very talented. She impressed all of her tutors. Everyone thought she was brilliant. But still, her father didn’t care about anyone but her little brother.”

Victoria felt herself overcome with anger and sadness.

“He thought that all the hopes of the family lay with her little brother. So he lavished him with attention and love and presents. Meanwhile, the little girl was shut away, out of sight and mind.”

“Did she wish more than anything to be successful?”

“Not just successful, my dear. She wanted to be queen.”

“Queen?”

“Yes, Victoria. She wanted more than anything to be the most powerful woman of her age. And she was willing to do anything to get it. She hid a deep blackness under the layers of velvet that covered her heart. And all the while, I was there.”

Victoria’s mouth went dry. “I think I know who you’re talking about . . .”

“I was her closest companion — different name, of course. But otherwise the same.”

“I can’t believe it. . . .”

“The greatest queen England ever had. The whole world vying for her attention. Worth the price, wouldn’t you say?”

Victoria nodded.

“There were others. There are others now. Others you would recognize.”

“Really? Who? Where?” Victoria was almost jumping up and down.

“There are many. And I’m not going to tell you about all of them. Just remember that, Victoria. Remember that this is real. And if you ever meet someone for whom life seems too easy, remember that there are others.”

“How can there be so many, if there’s just one of you?”

“There isn’t just one of me.
We are many.
There are
legions
of governesses out there,” Madame Vileroy said with a wink.

“Why so many of you?”

Madame Vileroy put down the shirt and leaned closer to Victoria, to whisper in her ear. “Because there are so many whose hearts call for us. And we answer every call. But this is a good time, since they’re not burning children anymore.”