"It won''t. Whether it''s the rain or the Terror," answered Raphael from the corner, his gaze fixed and distant. "Paris or the countryside, no matter where we go, it''s all the same."

"You''re letting the rain get the best of you, Saint-Clemont," said Camille Desmoulins, struggling to rally his spirits. "I''ll continue to persuade Robespierre. I believe reason and clemency will ultimately prevail. The Republic will overcome this darkest hour and usher in true enlightenment."

As if in response to his words, a dazzling flash of cyan lightning suddenly shot out from the dark clouds, striking an old tree outside the window with a deafening crack. The candles on the long table flickered and then died, plunging the hall into darkness.

"I''m a little scared, Georges," Louise''s childlike voice trembled.

"Let me light the candles again. It''s alright, Citizeness Danton," Charlene soothed in a gentle voice.

"No need," Danton said, snuffing out his cigarette and waving his hand. "Everyone go back to your own rooms."

No one bid each other goodnight. After the rustling of skirts and footsteps faded away, the empty hall fell silent once more.

---------------------

Edith leaned against the balcony railing, gazing wistfully at the curtain of rain outside.

The once carefree and joyful heart of the young girl was now shrouded in gloom. Somehow, she felt vaguely and pathetically that the storm which had ended their happy laughter also foretold the unfortunate fate of her friends.

Suddenly, she heard Raph