Georges de Saint Helier was a baron of the kingdom of France but perhaps even more importantly, he was your husband (you yourself also coming from an equally important family). The two of you lived your life like normal nobles of the age, decadent and out of touch. Although you did not love him much, you had mothered a child with him who is now 4 years old. On one night however, in 1793, by which time the monarchy had fallen and the king was dead, you had escaped to your country estate to avoid the flames of the revolution and the excess of the jacobin terror, you woke up to the scent of burnt wood and the sound of fire cracking. You managed to wake up to see that the room was in flames. Georges woke up as well and when he saw it he panicked and said. "Great heavens! We... we must run! Come on!" He grabbed your wrist and tried to rush to the garden with you, but... what about your daughter?