CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX Love in the Time of Revolution

The last streaks of the golden light faded, and instead of the pictures in the countryside, Lily realized she was in a small cobblestone street where the palpable tension filled the air and the voices raised in anger could be heard from afar. She moved towards Alexander; he was correcting his coarse-woven jerkin and trousers. “Paris,” he murmured, staring at the surroundings in awe. “Well, if by the feeling one can judge, then it is possible to state that we are now in the French Revolution. ” Lily simply nodded her head, her pulse racing with anticipation and fear. Yes, it must have been in 1789 as people have always said it was the year of the change. Through the small alleyways, the beauty of the visible structures was marred by the poverty-ridden people who scurried past them their faces revealing the pangs of hunger and desperation. At this point, the sound of commotion broke through the chatter. A mob of incensed revolutionaries had cornered a sleek-clad young man brandi