A/N: Chapter 3 is up woooooo!

So, no more reviews though :c It's weird because the stats are pretty good... I understand, as a reader that sometimes you just wanna read, but as a writer, reviews really do help a lot!

So, ya know... click that lil' button and write me some words...please? XD

This chapter is a bit short, but with school stuff is harder.

You know how the disclaimer thing works, so... I don't own anything but my oc's and blahlahblah...

ON WITH THE STORY!

Chapter 3:

#Anais' POV#

I paced across the bedroom. The plan I was formulating was indeed very risky. It had to be created meticulously.

It had to be so good that it could fool even myself, making me believe in my own fantasy. But how…

Ugh, I can´t think of this anymore. I need some relaxation.

And I know just the way to get it.

…

Oh, but I can't! I'll need it for that god forsaken plan!

…

It? I call them it now? Hmm, it appears I do. Interesting.

Oh, but I am going mad! I breathe their agony!

"Good heavens, how hard can it be to drag a gipsy here?!" I sighed. "Where are they?!"

There was a knock on the door.

"Speak of the devil…"

"Frau Albrecht?

"Come in."

Antoine did so, dragging the gipsy behind him, and smiled. "Here you go. Have fun, Frau Albrecht."

Smirking, I nodded and sat down as he basically threw the gipsy into the room.

Slowly, after Antoine had left, he looked up at me. I sat right in front of him, sipping tea, as I calmly awaited his next move.

I could be patient. It was rare, but I could. Patience is crucial when you want something. And I wanted…no…I needed this man.

He was eyeing me hatefully, and while part of me wanted to smirk, I refrained from doing so and merely waved to the chair in front of me. "Sit."

"Let's just get to the point." He spat. "The quicker you kill me, the better. Cut out the chit chat."

Kill him? Oh, maybe another time… Oh, but I can't. Especially not now.

I chose to smile. It's best to seem friendly. "I'm not going to kill you."

"Ever so funny."

Yes, I know, I have my moments.

"I mean it!" I saw him shift slightly. "Let's just say I have a…"

Proposition? Bargain? I'll stick with proposition.

"…proposition of sorts." I finished with a wave of my hands.

He quirked an eyebrow. "And then, after that, you'll kill me."

Clever one, eh? If only I could. He seemed like the resilient type. The best ones to take down.

"Oh, I have given it some thought…" Some? Oh, as if. "But no."

"No?" He seemed more interested now.

"I'll keep this simple. But I do need to know your name."

"Ha!" He leaned forward. "As if."

Frowning, I set my cup of tea on the table. Sneaky little man. I needed his name. It was crucial.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." I offered.

Rough shot, I know, I really do need his name. I must know who he is amongst the gipsies. My uncle my know him. If so, everything goes exceedingly badly.

He leaned back, smirking. "I already know your name. Anais Frollo Albrecht. German father, French mother. Niece of Claude Frollo. 21 years of age."

He knows my age…Wait, how?!

"Impressive, ja. You have…researched?"

"Oui, let's say I have." He seemed proud of himself.

"Yet knowing my name can't save your life. It's worthless. I smirked as I saw the proud look leave his face.

"You said something about a proposition…"

"Ah yes!" I clapped my hands. "We may talk about your name later!"

I stood up and then proceeded to kneel in front of him. I seem to be doing this a lot, lately. He as looking away from me and, as gently as I could, I grasped his chin in my hand. Hmm, nice eyes, quite the large nose, oh and chipped teeth…not good, but manageable, the hair is fine, though balding a bit. Let's keep the hat on…

I stood back. The skin colour would be hard to hide. "Hmm, you'll have to do."

His eyes, still widened from me prodding his face, flashed angrily. "Oh thanks." He scoffed. "What for, princess?"

Smiling, I walked to the window. "You want freedom. For yourself and your people."

"Yes."

"Then, I believe we can make an arrangement. Something for you, and something for me."

"What can you possibly need from me? You have everything." He scowled.

"Hmm, you could say that, yes. But, alas, it is required for me to attend an event I cannot do it without a 'suitor'. That's where you come in."

He pointed at himself. "Me? I'm supposed to be your suitor?! No! No! No!"

I rolled my eyes. God, he could be slow, couldn't he? "Calm yourself down, please. You wound me." I sighed. "I have no intention of…ugh, no."

"Good." He said.

Ouch. If I wasn't just as repulsed by the idea as him, I would've complained.

"So, this would be a…fake relationship?"

"Oh, not even that. Just a onetime thing. One night only."

He eyed me warily. "If I do this, you leave us alone? All of us?"

This is fairly hard. I really don't want to.

"…Yes…" I extended my hand. This would mark our fates. Our freedom.

It could work out, terribly and incredibly badly.

"…Do we have a deal?"

He stared at me, lips pressed tightly against each other. In the end, he sighed.

"Very well."

We shook hands.

It begins.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

#Clopin's POV#

Oh, I have struck a deal with the devil. And apparently, it's a she. But it would keep us safe. At least it would be one less thing to worry about.

I hope.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

#3rd person POV#

"Now." The brunnete continued. "There is something else we must discuss."

The gipsy turned around to face her.

She motioned for him to approach her. He did.

"Look over at them. The common people of Paris." She waved a hand at the people blow them. "Now, look at me. We are very different, are we not?"

"Yes, only one of you I want to kill." He mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, yes you are."

"You, as my 'suitor', will pose as someone of a higher class." She smiled. "You must learn to act and speak that way."

His eyes widened. "W-What?"

"I must teach you how to be a nobleman. So, twice a week every week, you must come here. I shall give you lessons."

"Oh, of course. Because it's extremely normal for a gipsy to walk into the Palace of Justice willingly."

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that." She pursed her lips. "Ah, I know! You must have a job, right?"

"…Yes… I am a…entertainer."

"What type of entertainer, if I may?"

"Why would you want to know?"

"Oh, I merely figured I could…I don't know… warm up things."

"No, thank you. You were saying?"

"…Yes, I was saying you possibly have a cart, right?"

"Yes."

"Then, I stop by it every time and order some guard to take you to my rooms."

"Won't they be suspicious if I always come out?"

"I'll tell them you are my spy."

"…Very well."

Silence fell between them.

The gipsy looked around while Anais merely looked out the window, a small smirk on her face.

"I still don't know your name."

"And you won't."

"Then am I to call you gipsy? Is that what you prefer? I must give a name to my uncle!"

"Tell him my name is…Pierre."

"Is it?"

"Maybe."

"…Or maybe not?" Her smirk grew.

He too seemed to smirk. "Indeed." He moved to the window opposite her, opening it and climbing the ledge. He looked down, calculating how bad the fall could be, and then at her, for permission to leave. She nodded and waved a hand dismissively.

However, before he could climb down, she spoke one last time.

"What do I call you then?"

"Just… call me the Puppeteer."

And, with her watching intently, he disappeared into the night.

She closed the window, called her maid, changed into her night clothing, sat on the bed and blew out the last candle burning.

Like nothing had ever happened.