Or Else Let Her Be Mine And Mine Alone

They're Burning All The Witches Even If You Aren't One

Yes. Taylor Swift lyrics, baby.

'Is Minister Frollo always studying?' she asked while walking towards Gudule's cell.

The servant supressed a smile. 'You could say. I have only seen him doing that in his room or talking to Master Charmolue, when he's not working,' she added.

'So Master Charmolue and him are friends?'

'Sort of. More like Master Charmolue and him are partners in research. He really admires Minister Frollo.'

'Research in what?'

'No one knows, madame. But...,' she spoke in a low voice, 'the word on the street is that they practise sorcery.'

Esmeralda cracked up. 'I don't think that's true. They detest sorcery so much they accuse anyone of it.'

They arrived at the tiny cell, its walls and window bars broken. Supposed to be a praying quarter, the cell resembled a prison more, which led to it getting dubbed a 'rat hole' by people of the city. Marie stopped at the entrance. 'I'll stay here and wait for you.'

It was going to take some time for Esmeralda to get used to the norms and ways of servants.

She stepped inside. This was probably the first time in years that crying sounds weren't echoing in the cell. Instead, she heard the humming of a song.

'Mother? It's me.'

The humming stopped. The recluse came out from a dark corner, gasping in delight. Her hair and attire were still shabby, but now that she didn't cry as much, she looked younger and happier.

'Agnes, how are you?' she hugged her daughter.

'I'm fine.'

Gudule let go to observe her dress. 'I knew you didn't belong in those rags. You look very pretty.'

"That's the problem with my life."

'Thank you,' she said half-heartedly.

Gudule stroked her cheek. 'Come. We will talk.'

They made their space in a corner; the same corner which had served as their hiding place when Esmeralda was being hidden from the soldiers. Not a place that brought good memories.

'You shouldn't live here anymore,' the girl said. 'It is horrible, and you are not a recluse.'

'Well, you are right. But where shall I go? I have some property in the Rheims, but I don't wish to leave you.'

'Oh, but I can't let you live here! We will buy a house.'

Gudule gave a dejected smile. 'I have spent the last fifteen years in mourning, my dear. I don't have much money. Just enough to get me food.'

'Then I shall do it. Frollo has more than enough.'

'Will he let you use his money for that?'

'Why won't he? He must. I'm his mistress,' she asserted.

Gudule placed a hand on her shoulder. 'It melts my heart to see you care for me so. But I do not wish for you to do something that aggravates him.'

Esmeralda frowned.

'Now,' she spoke lovingly, 'how did it go?'

'How did it go?'

'How is your new home?' she asked, perhaps to avoid the tough question right away.

'It's very pretty. Very grand, I must say.'

'And Frollo?'

'He's proud; gives me lectures on how he will guide me to heaven and make me "seek forgiveness for my sins" and everything.'