In My Darkness: La Chatte Noire

Chapter Three: Sa Chatte

Chapter Three: Sa Chatte (His Cat)

Slowly, her eyes opened. It was dark, and it took her a moment to adjust her vision to the point that she could see the black curtain around her. She sat up and looked around her again. It appeared she had been sleeping in a very comfortable bed draped in red velvet. She stood quickly, surveying the bed below her that she could now tell was in the shape of a swan. All her memories of the previous night came rushing back to her – primarily, that she'd murdered Wolfe. High time someone did that, in her opinion. Also, she remembered her encounter with O.G. last night. He certainly was a strange fellow, wasn't he? Though she had to admit, she wasn't really one to talk.

The moaning of soft notes wafting from an organ pulled her from her reverie and she turned towards the open entrance to the room. She had to assume he was playing it... his playing was beautiful. A picture flitted before her mind of her young self playing the pianoforte, something she had enjoyed as a child, but she cast away the image. There was no time for reminiscence in her life.

Carefully, she pulled down on the tassel beside the bed, causing the curtain to rise so she could step out. She noticed that she was now barefoot and her usual shoes were beside the bed, along with her stockings. Her bodice had also been removed, leaving her in her brown pirate-style shirt and riding trousers... the thought that he had removed her bodice upset her. It was indecent for him to have done so, but still, she was glad to be without it. The first time she had slept in a bodice, she had nearly suffocated. She was more used to it now, but it was très (very) uncomfortable. What bothered her the most was that on a small table against the cavern wall were her knives. When she checked them, she found that they were all there and felt no different from normal, but she didn't trust him not to have tampered with them. Her knives were her most prized possessions; no one touched them but her.

Her steps were quiet as she exited the room and walked down the slope. As she ascended the steps to his organ, O.G. stopped playing whatever beautiful song it was and turned to face her on the organ bench. He was no longer wearing the long black cape. Now he was adorned in a simple white shirt tucked into a pair of black riding trousers. To her, he seemed far more relaxed now, but he still wore the white half-mask. That could not have been comfortable.

"You have awakened," he greeted her, standing.

"I have indeed," she replied, her smile gentle and small, "How long did I sleep?"

"For some time. Obviously, you needed it."

She chuckled. "I did. Running from someone is tiring, and..." she checked herself before she said too much and revealed everything about herself, "the sleep helped a great deal."

"I would think so," he agreed as he stepped forward and crossed his arms, "Now, Chatte Noire, you claimed last night you could not leave. I took the liberty of going above to assure myself of your claims, and it appears you were right. The gens d'armes are looking for you and posing questions to everyone they meet about whether or not they have seen a woman of your description."

"I thought as much. It appears I have nowhere to go."

"That is not what you claimed last night. You said that you would have to stay here. Now what would I do with a young woman such as yourself?" he asked, and she looked shocked before he added, "I do not mean in the improper sense. I shall do nothing to harm your honor, you may be assured of that. What could you provide in exchange for shelter?"

"I don't honestly know. What do you need that I may do?" she asked, relieved that he was talking in business terms; something she knew well from her years as a rogue.

He thought for a few minutes, then looked back at her. "What are your skills? Aside from the lethal arts, which I gained enough proof of yesterday."