Married...Oscar...no... Andre thought to himself as his feet pounded the cool marble of the Jarjayes manor hallway in his rush to flee from the shocking scene that had just occurred. The fading sounds of Oscar's dear voice calling after him from the main hall for once didn't register over the turbulent emotions that were swirling in his mind. If Oscar were to marry, it would be all over for him. There would be no other reason for him to exist. No reason for him to ever hear her voice again.

He didn't stop running until he had reached the darkness and quiet of the stables where he hastily shut the door behind him and collapsed onto a pile of hay that he had recently spread out for the horses. Breathing heavily, he shut his eyes tight and tried to hold his tears at bay. The thought of losing Oscar forever was so painful that it physically hurt deep in his chest each time he tried to inhale. He forced himself to slow his breaths, willed himself not to cry. He reminded himself that over these many years of loving Oscar, he had always managed to endure, to hold himself together and be strong for her. She needed him to be strong for her, even if she didn't know it.

He finally opened his eyes and looked up to see the familiar stables around him. The drowsy horses, tired from their journey back from Versailles. The saddles lined up in a row next to the doors, ready for another day. The moonlight spilling in from the windows and illuminating the place on the wall where he and Oscar had, as children, carved their names into the aging wood panels. They had tracked their heights as they grew, fiercely competitive about something they didn't yet realize they had no control over. When had they stopped measuring? Was it the summer when his voice began to crack and deepen? Or the following spring when she became strangely self conscious about hugging him in the carefree manner she used to, the subtle new shape of her chest having come between them? There had been no way to stem the loss of their innocent childhood camaraderie or to stop the new physical distance that had begun to come between them even as their friendship deepened and matured, and even as he realized he loved her and would love only her, for the rest of his life. The distance had only been made worse by that terrible night when he lost control of his senses and almost lost Oscar forever. Oscar, who was always so brave and confident. He had never seen her so scared and so vulnerable before. And he had never seen those deep blue eyes look at him with such fear and sadness. He had done that to her, and he hadn't yet forgiven himself for it. But he could not go back and change it.

Andre ran his fingers along the well-worn markings on the wall. He had always been taller. As a man, he would always be taller. Perhaps Oscar had finally realized she could not change this. Just as Andre knew he could not change that the person he loved most in the world would marry someone else and leave him behind. Oscar had stopped measuring their heights. But what would he, Andre, do? He could not simply stop loving her.

The tears finally came, hot and unrelenting. If he couldn't have Oscar, he was certainly not going to stand by and watch as she was married off to another man. He would end it all. End the pain of futilely loving her, of waiting for her and hoping for her. Granny would be devastated, of course, but there wasn't anything he could do about that. After all this time of carrying Oscar in his heart day after day without end, the weight of his unreturned love growing heavier by the year, no one would begrudge him if he finally let it all go. How could anyone carry such a burden for so long and live? Surely Granny would understand that. She wouldn't want him to suffer anymore.

Through his tears, Andre heard the sound of light footsteps outside the stable. He quickly dried his eyes on his sleeve and stood up as the door opened. In the darkness he couldn't make out who it was at first, but then a gentle voice called out: "Andre, is that you? It's me, Yvette. I saw you run out of the house in a hurry. I just wanted to see if everything was ok."

Yvette. One of the housemaids. Petite and pretty, with light brown hair and warm brown eyes, she was a year or two younger than Andre. She had taken a position in the Jarjayes household several years ago and despite her calm and proper demeanor, she had made it clear from the beginning that she had her eyes on Andre. Whenever he passed her in the corridors of the Jarjayes manor, she would smile her disarming smile and make charming small talk with him about the events of the household. When Yvette laughed her easy, girlish, tinkling laugh in response to Andre's quips-so different from Oscar's rare, deep, hard-won laughter-she would often press her hands into Andre's in a warm, confiding, flirtatious manner. Although he was equally courteous to all of the housemaids, Andre had to admit that Yvette was a breath of fresh air in the otherwise stiff and formal household and that he could relax and let down his guard around her in a way that he couldn't with anyone else. In a way that he wished he could do with Oscar. That he used to be able to do with Oscar. It was all so simple with Yvette.

"I'm ok Yvette, thank you. I just had some work to take care of in here. It's getting late-go ahead back to the house."

"But Andre, your eyes are damp. Have you been crying?"

"Yvette...it's nothing. Go back to the house, please."

However, Yvette quietly stepped into the stables and closed the door behind her. She walked up to Andre and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Andre, tell me what's wrong. We've always been friends and I'm a pretty good listener."

Andre turned his face away from her. He couldn't bear the look of concern in her eyes. Or was it pity? But she was so near and her smile was so warm and inviting. He sighed.

"Yvette, thank you, but no one can help me with what's bothering me and talking about it won't do any good. In fact it would probably make things worse."

Yvette hesitated.

"Andre...it's Oscar, isn't it? I'm not as unobservant as you think. I know you love her. It's plain for anyone who's looking to see, no matter how well you think you hide it."

Shocked that his emotions had been so apparent, Andre remained silent.

"Listen, I know she's beautiful and smart and amazing-in fact, I've caught myself admiring her many times-but if she can't see how wonderful you are in return, she's more blind and foolish than anyone else I know."

"Don't speak ill of her, Yvette. She's not..."

"But she is! Andre, you are one of the kindest, most gentle and not to mention one of the most handsome men I have ever met. There are any number of women who would give anything to make you happy. Including...including me..."

"Yvette...please don't..."

But she had already placed both of her hands securely into his.

"No! I know you are always going to have her in your heart. I know that. But Andre, she is going to get married and then what? Will you mourn her for the rest of your life? Will you throw away your life for her? Or will you choose another path and find another kind of happiness? I may never wear a shining military uniform or lead armies of men, but I can keep a comfortable home for you, I can cook for you, I can bear children for you and most of all, I can love you. Can she do this for you? Will she do this for you?"

Andre looked down into Yvette's warm brown eyes, which were beginning to brim with tears, her rosy lips which were trembling and her small delicate hands which so gently held his own calloused hands and he could imagine it, everything she said. It was true. Yvette raised one of her hands to his face and gently brushed away a stray tear from his cheek. Her hand was so soft and comforting. She smiled up at him. It was all so simple. Andre bent down closer, like a moth to a warm, dangerous flame. Yvette slowly closed her eyes and tilted her head back, lips slightly parted. Andre wanted it. He could smell the scent of her: clean linens from the laundry and fresh bread from the kitchen, so different from Oscar's strong heady scent of roses, the muskiness of the horses and the leather of her military boots. And underneath it all, underneath that uniform, the smell of something purely, essentially her. But Oscar...oh, Oscar...how I love your scent...

Andre had dropped his sword and fled the main hall so quickly that Oscar did not have time to react. In fact, she had been equally taken aback by her father's announcement that she was to be married. By the time Oscar had collected herself to call after Andre, he was well out of earshot.

Yvette, the pretty brown-eyed maid that was always flirting with Andre approached her demurely.
"Lady Oscar, the master is calling for you to come to the parlor."

Oscar would have to deal with Andre later. Right now, she had to confront her father. As she stalked toward the parlor to meet her suitor, she wondered to herself "Who is it? Whoever it is, he certainly has some guts. He's probably a playboy hunting for wealth and rank. For his nerve, I'll at least take a look at his face!"

She was completely shocked when she entered to parlor to find Girodelle's pale eyes looking up at her.

"This must be a joke, Captain Girodelle" Oscar said as he rose to greet her.

"I am a Major now."

"Well then, Major Girodelle..."

Girodelle bent down, took her hand and kissed it gallantly. "Please know how happy I am that your father allowed me to come into this house and be such a beautiful woman's suitor."

The rest of the meeting was a blur as Oscar's father explained that the Jarjayes family needed an heir and that he expected Oscar to marry and bear a son to carry on the family name. Oscar was so infuriated, she could barely see straight. It was all she could do to remain calm.

"Stop! Don't even speak of this! Excuse me!" She turned on her heel to storm out of the room but Girodelle caught her by the wrist to stop her. The blood was pounding furiously in Oscar's ears by then and she only vaguely recalled snippets of Girodelle's declaration of love.

"...Since the beginning, I've only ever seen you as a woman..."

As a woman? Me?

"Let go, Major Girodelle. Forget about tonight. Go back home and cool your thoughts!"

"Is that an order? I'm afraid I cannot obey. You cannot give orders to people's hearts."

"Did you hear that father? You cannot give orders to people's hearts!"

With that, she finally broke free of Girodelle's grasp and stormed out of the parlor and down the corridor to find Andre. She had to find Andre. To vent to him about how ridiculous this whole situation was.

She knew where he would be. She always knew where he would be. His comings and goings were like an internal rhythm ingrained within her. As she made her way to the stables, she cursed her father for putting her into this position, of raising her as a man, causing her to lose her first love because she could not be a woman, all just to force her to go back to being a woman? Leaving the military? Getting married and bearing children? What was the point of it all?

As she approached the stables, she heard voices inside, mostly a distinctly feminine one. It was unusual. No woman in the household except for her usually went into the stables. Oscar quieted her steps and walked up to the window to peer inside. She saw Andre, tall, still; his chiselled features were illuminated by the moonlight, cool like a Greek statue, but his eyes a deep green in spite of the silvery light. Oscar's raging temper softened at the sight of him. He always had the ability to calm her, but how had she never noticed how handsome he had become? It made her heart skip a beat to realize this new thought. But Andre wasn't looking at her, as he usually did whenever she appeared. He seemed very serious and was looking down upon someone else, a petite brunette with a fluty voice who was looking very earnestly into his eyes and, by the tone of her voice, explaining something very impassioned to him.

"...I may never wear a shining military uniform or lead armies of men, but I can keep a comfortable home for you, I can cook for you, I can bear children for you and most of all, I can love you. Can she do this for you? Will she do this for you?"

Yvette! Oscar could not believe it. Was this little maid, this little tart, trying to capture Andre's heart? It was no secret that many of the younger maids were flirts when it came to Andre. Clearly they noticed the same things Oscar did: Andre's thick dark waving hair, his brilliant green eyes, his handsome face, his gentle demeanor. The older, married maids had often teased Andre about how a pretty young maid would one day steal him away. Mostly Oscar had found it all very trivial, the way Andre complained to her about having to fend off the maids while having to be polite to their faces, knowing deep inside, that Andre would never run off with any of them. She didn't know why she was so sure of this, but Andre wasn't the type of person to do that. Besides none of the maids were right for him. As a woman, Oscar would know the right woman for Andre when that woman came along.

As a woman? Me?

But clearly Yvette was succeeding where the other maids were not. Andre was actually concentrating on her face and listening to her intently. Was Yvette reaching up to caress his cheek? And was he bending down to...kiss her?

Oscar didn't think. She blindly ran for the stable door and threw it open.

"Oscar!" Andre exclaimed as he leaped backward at the sound of the stable door slamming open. Oscar, her wild golden hair illuminated in the cool silver of the moonlight behind her, stood with one hand on the door, legs planted firmly apart and her eyes honed directly at Andre as he quickly dropped Yvette's hand. Andre heard Yvette's sharp intake of breath.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence as Oscar and Andre locked eyes. She was breathing heavily, like she had been running. Her hair was in a greater disarray than usual, framing her pale face and her sapphire blue eyes. Those eyes. What was this unrecognizable blazing light that was radiating from them? He couldn't read her. He could always read her. It startled him that he suddenly couldn't. But God, she was beautiful. Andre couldn't stop looking at her. He could look upon her forever.

Under Andre's naked gaze, Oscar suddenly felt flushed and unnerved and dropped her eyes first.

"Andre, I...I came to see that Girodelle's horses are prepared for his departure." Oscar slowly strode into the stable, each step very deliberate. "I hope I haven't interrupted anything." She stopped and gave Yvette a withering glance. "Good evening, Yvette. I believe Nanny has requested you back in the kitchen."

Yvette lowered her eyes, gathered her skirts and quietly darted out of the stables with one last look back at Andre. Andre didn't take notice of Yvette's departure. He was already moving towards Oscar. A planet could not help but orbit the sun, Yvette thought to herself as she turned away forlornly and raced back to the warmth of the kitchen.

"Oscar..." Andre breathed

Oscar turned away quickly as if to leave. But her shoulders were hunched and her voice was shaky.

"Andre...please...prepare Girodelle's horses. He will be leaving shortly."

"Oscar." He said more firmly.

Oscar finally turned and looked up at him. He couldn't tell for sure in the darkness, but the moonlight illuminated what appeared to be tears on her cheeks. He wanted to go to her and wipe them away, the way that Yvette had done for him. He wanted to hold her in his arms and explain everything to her, to tell her it would all be ok. He wanted to tell her, in a way she would understand this time, how much he loved her. How much he would always love her. But he knew her. She would probably punch him. Or worse. Break his heart. Again and again.

Oscar walked over slowly to where Andre was standing, by the old childish carvings in the wall. She stared intently at them for what seemed an eternity and then gently ran her long, elegant fingers over the deep grooves. Her voice was quieter now.

"Andre, do you remember these? How, when we were children, we used to mark our heights into this wall?"

"Yes, Oscar."

"We were so competitive back then. I always thought if I ate more than you, I could outgrow you. But it didn't quite work out that way."

"No, it didn't."

Oscar suddenly slumped against the stable wall as if she had lost her strength, and put her head in her hands. "Andre, it was all so simple back then."

Andre couldn't help it. He moved closer to her and, even though he had long ago promised himself he wouldn't, he reached out his shaking hand to touch her. She swiftly raised her head and looked up at him with her piercing blue eyes. For a moment, Andre thought he saw the old unspoken fear, that same sadness in her eyes. He thought she might push his hand away and run from him. But instead, she surprised him by rushing into his arms and holding him tight, hugging him close as she used to do. He instinctively put his arms around her as she wept quietly into his chest. It felt so right, so familiar. Some things time had not changed; she still fit there against him, so perfectly. For a moment, all of the hurt, the pain and the secrets of the past years melted away and it was just the two of them again.

Andre and Oscar.

Oscar and Andre.

He inhaled her heady scent and gently stroked her silken hair. In that moment, holding Oscar's surprisingly delicate body in his arms, listening to her weep and feeling her heart beat in time against his own, both of them illuminated by the soft moonlight, Andre saw so very clearly that his love for her would never, could never, be changed. Whatever happened, whether she knew it or not, he would always live for her, endure for her, be strong for her, love only her and gladly throw his life away for her.

"Oh Oscar," he murmured softly into her hair as he held her tighter in his arms, "it's all so simple."