Jean Genie
Copyright© 2026 by Rachael Jane
Chapter 30: Sophie de la Roque
Montréal, July 1672
The riverboat from Québec pulls up to the Montréal quay under a bright, unforgiving sun. Soldiers shout orders, while merchants haggle. Canoes from upriver, and the lakes beyond, glide past with bundles of furs. And in the middle of the noise, Sophie de la Roque steps onto the planks with the rigid grace of an eighteen year old girl trained in the salons of Paris.
Her mantle is too fine for this frontier town, and her delicate shoes unsuitable for its muddy streets. Her controlled expression makes it look like she has been dropped into the wrong world. Her father, Captain Étienne de la Roque, in his immaculate soldier’s uniform, waits to greet her. He doesn’t smile at the sight of his eldest daughter. He simply nods. It has been ten years since he last saw her.
“Sophie.”
She curtsies stiffly. “Father.”
Behind him stand his long time mistress, Anne, and Sophie’s half-sister, Marie. Anne keeps her hands folded and eyes lowered. Her posture is respectful. She has lived in Montréal long enough to know how to make herself small in public.
Marie, now fourteen, watches Sophie with cautious curiosity. She has known of Sophie’s existence her entire life, but she has never met her until this moment. Marie’s hazel eyes flicker with something between hope and apprehension. Sophie’s gaze sweeps over them ... first Anne, then Marie ... and her expression tightens.
“So,” Sophie says quietly, “this is the household.”
Anne bows her head. “Welcome, Mademoiselle.”
Sophie’s reply is a thin, cold smile. Marie steps forward, offering a polite greeting. “I’m Marie.”
Sophie’s eyes narrow, assessing her half‑sister as though she were an unexpected blemish on the landscape.
“Yes,” Sophie says. “I know who you are.”
Marie’s shoulders stiffen. Étienne clears his throat sharply.
“We will speak inside.”
As second in command of the Montréal garrison, Étienne has been given a warm, well built house smelling of wood-smoke and leather. Sophie sits straight‑backed, refusing to let the exhaustion of her five day river journey show. Étienne stands before her like a commander addressing a subordinate.
“Your mother’s death has left matters unsettled,” he says. “You must secure your future.”
Sophie’s jaw tightens. “My future? My future isn’t here with your whore and her brat.”
He bristles at the insult, but Sophie’s outburst isn’t unexpected. Their correspondence since his wife’s death made it clear what Sophie’s attitude would be. If there was any other alternative to bringing Sophie here, he would have left his arrogant daughter at the mercy of French noble society. He doesn’t love his oldest daughter any more than he did his late wife. Their marriage was one of convenience. Sophie was born seven months later, leaving Étienne uncertain whether Sophie is truly his child. However, he feels a duty to protect her from the wolves of French society.
“I have arranged a marriage,” says Étienne.
Sophie’s breath catches, making a small, sharp sound.
“To Lieutenant Armand Duplessis,” he continues. “A respectable match. Necessary, given our circumstances.”
Sophie’s fingers curl against her skirts. She feels the walls closing in. She’s trapped in this colony and its fort, her father’s expectations, and the presence of Anne and Marie in the next room. She feels resentful and powerless.
Her voice is thin. “I have barely arrived here and you are trying to get rid of me.”
“There is no time to waste,” Étienne says. “You will meet him tomorrow.”
Sophie looks away, blinking hard. She will not cry in front of him. She will not give him that satisfaction.
Étienne clears his throat again, then reaches into a small wooden chest. He withdraws a bundle wrapped in deerskin.
“A gift,” he says. “To welcome you.”
He unwraps it. The Maristela Bracelet gleams in the firelight; its gold warm as sunlight and its three stones shimmering with an inner glow.
Sophie inhales softly. “It’s beautiful.”
“A trader brought it from the interior,” her father says. “He claimed it belonged to a woman of some importance. I thought it fitting for you.”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.