Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ROSE OF VERSAILLES. THIS IS PURELY FAN MADE.
Conversation : Bold: Oscar
Bold Italic: Black Knight/Bernard
Chapter 2:
Bernard did not even have time to see whether this voice gave him an unexpected opportunity to get out of this domestic dispute. Without waiting he scampered down the hall towards the grand staircase. This time Oscar turned to see the dark silhouette before her, and realized her mistake, she turned around and rushed in pursuit of this stranger who was undoubtedly the black knight. She did not care that she was even wearing a nightgown. The only thing that troubled her was that she would give anything to have her gun or sword with her. When the thief arrived at the edge of the stairs, without thinking she threw herself at him. Both swung noisily and rushed down a dozen of steps. When both of them finally arrived on the ground, both were bruised and their clothes were torn. Oscar collapsed beside the thief, stood up with difficulty, placed a hand on her forehead where a bump was beginning to show. With her strength recovered, she tore a sudden gesture the man's mask plated under her. When he was about to be discovered, the young man grabbed the gun hanging from his belt and gave a mighty butt on the temple of the young blonde woman leaning over him. She screamed once and fainted. She had seen his face, when she spoke, he was lost. What to do?
Sounds of hurried footsteps brought him from his stupor. He grabbed the lifeless body of the young woman, threw it over his shoulders like a ragdoll and went out of the house carefully while hiding his face with his cloak. In the park, he found his horse, placed the young woman on the saddle, climbed in and disappeared into the night.
"RRRRRAAAAAAHHHHH!" A table went flying out the window. Andre has just destroyed his last piece of bedroom furniture. He did not even care his hands were bloody. Traitor! Coward! He was a traitor and a coward! He had always promised to protect Oscar. He had always kept that promise for years and now the first highwayman lifted her as easily tearing a flower on a grove. Traitorous Bastard! If this filthy black night ever touché a single hair on Oscar's head or a tiny bit of her flesh, he will never forgive EVER.
Rosalie woke up from hearing a crashing sound, stood in the doorway of Andre's room. Powerless against such rage and despair her eyes were filled with tears and did not even make a move. As she saw Andre ransack his room and swore against the black mask, a souvenir to remember what happened earlier that night. Rosalie remembered the first time she saw Lady Oscar. It was love at first sight even though Lady Oscar was a woman. She cherished those memories after her flight from the house of Madam Polignac. Oscar was hurt from escaping the soldiers of the black knight who were at that time near Palais Royale. Rosalie wiped her tears with her sleeve. Not daring to speak with Andre in the midst of her grief, quietly she slipped away.
When Oscar regained consciousness the first thing she noticed was that her hands were tied behind her back and her nightgown was in tatters. She stood up and sat down. She was lying on a cot in a dark and very cramped room. The only source of light came from the flame of a tallow lamp on a wooden table. At this table she saw a man who was finishing a bottle of alcohol. She recognized the man and the memories of what happened the previous hours of the night resurfaced.
What an Idiot! What an Idiot! Bernard rested his bottle of Brandy. Not only had he been discovered but also brought with him a hostage whom he did not know what to do. He would keep her indefinitely and would not release her as she had seen his face. She would talk and he would surely be hanged for it. What an Idiot! In the few hours that she had slept and where she kept her, he had time to watch over her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He had seen straw-blonde women, and other women had dark-blonde hair. No, hers were golden blonde similar to that of sunlight. Although she was tall and slender, her body was so harmonious that it could only belong to a sculpture, a character array of myth. One could guess great nobility and courage. He recognized the woman he tried to assault her at one of the balls. She wore an odalisque dress that night and it occurred to him that he was seeing an ancient statue. Yet beyond this beauty, she had defended herself like a soldier. And a few hours earlier she did not hesitate to throw herself at him. Even in men such passion and courage was rare. "Well, what do you intend to do now, Black Knight? Asked the young woman who had now awakened. Requesting a ransom?" Bernard turned. She did not seem at all frightened or angry. She looked right into his eyes with an air of defiance and a sly smile. She seemed to be having fun. "Anyway, even getting a ransom, you cannot release me. You know very well that I saw your face and I would talk. In addition, I have met you and I know your identity: BERNARD CHATELET!"
The young man stood up abruptly. Not only was she unafraid but also she saw him clearly. She was amused by his embarrassment. "I would be careful with my words, if I were you madam." "I could kill you on the spot!" "But you will not do it because you are incapable" she said without looking away… What!, Bernard suddenly recoiled. "If you were that kind of man who coldly kills a person without any weapon, you would have killed me in the castle, right?" Despite what Oscar had said, Bernard threw his empty bottle against the wall. Keeping this woman a second longer seemed insurmountable to him. She played with his nerves and thought. It would be fatal to release her quickly. How to buy her silence?
The young man sat down at the table. He had to find something that would threaten her if she were to reveal his identity. Something strong enough that would keep both of them silent. He had to get over this woman. Furthermore, who was she? When he was caught in the domestic dispute, her servant arrived and allowed him to escape. The name of her servant was Andre, no doubt. But what was the name of this woman? He slightly heard it but did notice it at that time. Let's see! Olga… Olivia...Ah Yes! Oscar. What? Oscar? This woman has a man's name? But why? Why? Oscar… Oscar… This name was saying something. No! This woman is Oscar François de Jarjayes! The Commander of the Royal guards? The Queen's dog! He had seen her once and remembered. The same hair, same face. It was Him! Or rather her! Oscar Jarjayes was a woman! Bernard snapped a devilish smile drawing on his face. What he held with him was blackmail material.
