Chap­ter X takes us to the city of Paris on July 29, 1719, a time and place where Addie, the immor­tal woman cursed by a dev­il­ish pact, finds her­self indulging in a rare moment of plea­sure. In the opu­lent and hid­den mar­quis’s city house, she embraces the indul­gence of lux­u­ries she would nev­er oth­er­wise taste. She savors the rich choco­late, some­thing she rarely allows her­self to indulge in, and enjoys the exquis­ite sur­round­ings of the house that sym­bol­ize the sharp con­trast between her hum­ble exis­tence and the grandios­i­ty of the world around her. The house itself, hid­den from pub­lic view and immersed in wealth, offers her a secret space away from her wan­der­ings, a place where she can briefly escape from her nev­er-end­ing strug­gle with her own curse. It’s here, in the pri­va­cy of this space, that Addie finds a fleet­ing sense of free­dom, and for a brief moment, she is able to expe­ri­ence the life she has always dreamed of but can nev­er claim as her own.

As she rel­ish­es in her soli­tude, an unex­pect­ed pres­ence inter­rupts Addie’s rare indulgence—Luc, the god­like enti­ty who gift­ed her immor­tal­i­ty in exchange for a curse that makes her per­pet­u­al­ly for­got­ten by those she meets. Luc’s reap­pear­ance after four long years is laden with a ten­sion that only the two of them can tru­ly under­stand. Their rela­tion­ship, defined by manip­u­la­tion, pain, and the con­stant clash of their oppos­ing wills, is a del­i­cate bal­ance of defi­ance and begrudg­ing accep­tance. Luc, ever the mas­ter of his own real­i­ty, pro­pos­es an evening din­ner, a set­ting where he weaves the illu­sion of normalcy—a fleet­ing moment of com­fort in their oth­er­wise twist­ed rela­tion­ship. For Addie, how­ev­er, this offer rep­re­sents a com­pli­cat­ed choice: to accept the illu­sion or con­tin­ue fight­ing against the bind­ing strings of the curse that con­trols her exis­tence.

Din­ner in Luc’s com­pa­ny is not just an ordi­nary meal, but a grandiose spec­ta­cle, with ser­vants mov­ing under the influ­ence of Luc’s con­trol, pro­vid­ing a feast that feels more like a stage for their per­son­al per­for­mance than a gen­uine act of hos­pi­tal­i­ty. The opu­lent sur­round­ings of the mar­quis’s house, filled with sump­tu­ous foods and lav­ish set­tings, cre­ate a sur­re­al atmos­phere that makes the evening feel both dis­con­nect­ed from real­i­ty and yet inti­mate­ly tied to the deep emo­tions that pass between Addie and Luc. Their con­ver­sa­tion, full of barbs and unspo­ken emo­tions, serves as a bat­tle­ground for the pow­er dynam­ic that con­stant­ly shifts between them. Addie strug­gles with her resent­ment and anger toward Luc, but there’s also an unde­ni­able sense of longing—a desire for con­nec­tion, some­thing she’s been deprived of for cen­turies. She knows that she’s liv­ing in a world that seems to have no place for her, trapped in the void of being for­got­ten, and her con­ver­sa­tion with Luc only serves to rein­force her dis­il­lu­sion­ment with the life that she’s been con­demned to live.

Through­out their inter­ac­tion, Addie becomes increas­ing­ly aware of the vast gap between her desires and real­i­ty. The con­ver­sa­tion takes a turn when Addie dares to ask Luc his true name, a ques­tion that speaks to her con­stant search for some­thing real in her exis­tence. Luc’s eva­sive response only deep­ens the mys­tery of his inten­tions and who he tru­ly is, fur­ther com­pli­cat­ing the rela­tion­ship between them. His reluc­tance to reveal any­thing of him­self high­lights the pow­er dynam­ics at play and the fact that he remains as much a mys­tery to Addie as ever. For Addie, this inter­ac­tion with Luc rein­forces the com­plex­i­ty of their relationship—a rela­tion­ship that is built on pow­er, manip­u­la­tion, and a des­per­ate search for some­thing that feels authen­tic and human.

As the night pro­gress­es, Addie is left to grap­ple with her con­flict­ing emo­tions and the inescapable truth that she can­not escape the life she has cho­sen. Her desire for auton­o­my, for a life free from the chains of her curse, seems ever more unat­tain­able. The grand back­drop of the mar­quis’s house and the sump­tu­ous din­ner served only rein­force the lone­li­ness she feels inside, a reminder of the price she paid for immor­tal­i­ty. The chap­ter por­trays Addie’s unend­ing strug­gle to retain her sense of self and human­i­ty while locked in a world that con­stant­ly chal­lenges her exis­tence. Despite the grandeur and indul­gence she expe­ri­ences, the absence of true con­nec­tion, the inabil­i­ty to ever tru­ly be seen or remem­bered by those around her, is a con­stant, haunt­ing reminder of the cost of the curse that binds her.

This chap­ter pro­vides a poignant explo­ration of the com­plex­i­ties of mem­o­ry, iden­ti­ty, and the human long­ing for con­nec­tion, espe­cial­ly in a world where one is per­pet­u­al­ly lost in the shad­ows of the past. Addie’s inter­ac­tion with Luc high­lights her deep-seat­ed desire to be rec­og­nized and remem­bered, to be more than just an after­thought or a pass­ing moment in someone’s life. It also rais­es impor­tant ques­tions about the nature of pow­er and con­trol, the strug­gles inher­ent in nav­i­gat­ing one’s iden­ti­ty in a world where every con­nec­tion is fleet­ing, and the emo­tion­al weight of being eter­nal­ly for­got­ten. The jux­ta­po­si­tion of opu­lence and inter­nal con­flict serves as a vivid reminder that, despite the exter­nal lux­u­ries and the fleet­ing moments of indul­gence, Addie’s true bat­tle lies with­in, against a curse that no amount of mate­r­i­al wealth or world­ly plea­sures can ever erase.