Or Else Let Her Be Mine And Mine Alone

Bourgogne

Sweet water infused with rose and lavender filled a cup. Esmeralda enjoyed the refreshment. Even her most far-fetched fantasies had never boasted of such luxury.

Fleur-Dy-Lys once called her clothing barbarous. Now, Esmeralda had decided that she would attend her wedding's feast in the finest attire possible. She had chosen a gown of Italian silk, dyed purple and bearing embellishments of black and gold. The popular choice of brides was blue (which was also the color of the clothes she had seen Fleur's maids carry) and the purple of the dress could overshadow it. The girl was set on to be the belle of the reception.

By law she could now wear as much of gold as she wished. She slipped a precious bracelet around her wrist, adorned with ambers. It shone bright in the sunlight; it would probably do so even more at night.

It wasn't as if she didn't have reservations about the expenditures, but any remorse was followed by reassurance. If Frollo had taken her freedom and life, he had to make up for it and the dour six months he had given her. "It isn't like his money was being spent well anyway. It is a crime to be wealthy in this world and not wallow."

And maybe, there was a hope that it would fill the space once occupied by Phoebus. That the glimmer would make up for her Sun God. Everyone at the banquet was going be taken with her, and that would diminish the fact that the hope she chose to cling on to until what could've been the end of her life was a false one.

Marie entered, jumping cautiously over the cloth and jewels. The girl beamed.

'Marie! I was looking for you. Do you think this is appropriate for the feast?'

The maid looked at the masses of cloth, stones and sweets in the room. 'I believe it is, madame. I hope that you enjoy your time.'

'Oh, I shall take you with me. You must see that snob's face when she sees me in purple.'

Marie pushed a stray hair back in her veil. 'I would love to, but I am not sure if I will be able to accompany you.'

'Why is that?'

'I have recently become an aunt and my husband and I are godparents. We might need to visit our village for the boy's baptism.'

'Oh, congratulations!' said Esmeralda. 'But what is the unsurety in that?'

She smiled nervously. 'We are just a little diffident. It is tradition to gift a silver spoon on a child's baptism. But we are low on money, and if we go there, we might not be able to pay the taille.'

'Why didn't you tell me then? I can lend you.'

The maid looked at her doubtfully. 'Can you?'

She opened her small leather purse. 'Of course I can. You are no less than a friend to me, and I do not have many friends. You will not miss on your godson's baptism.'

She took out a handful of Livre Parsis. 'Is this enough?'

Marie stood there and stared at the coins for some time. 'Yes, it is,' she affirmed. 'Thank you.'

The girl smiled victoriously and held out a tray to her. 'Now, have some cake. It's honey and ginger flavored, quite delicious.'

--

She bit down a last slice of an apple coated in sugar, looking sedately out of the window. The time after supper used to be her least favored one, but it was different when she was alone. She got up to return the empty plate, and froze.

'I see you are enjoying yourself,' remarked Claude Frollo.

She straightened and put up a stoic face. He had come back and was holding something. A finely-crafted bottle of glass. He also had a huge grin on his face. She didn't like it.