Sorry for taking so long, I have been busy lately. However, this chapter tells how Judge Claude Frollo's father is doing after he fell off his horse (this Claude is not the Disney character movie, but his father. In noble families, the first born inherited their father first name, so that can be confusing) . Justice is getting more and more confused about how she feels about him. So I let you read and Hope you will enjoy it.

Justice did not eat breakfast and spent her afternoon working. Her mother came seating next to her. She brought a plate of stew and was waiting for her to speak a word. Justice dried her forehead with the back of her sleeve and stopped the wheel.

_ Your father went to the Hotel Dieu to check on him. She started. He's out of danger. He shall recover and going back to work in one week or so.

_Thank God. She began working on the vase's detail.

_Would you make me the pleasure to eat, chicklet? She handed her the plate.

_I'm not hungry, I'm feeling weird. She focused on her work.

_You like him, don't you? She went straight to the point.

_I think so. She admitted. Do you think he only wants to toy with me?

_I've no idea, I hope he doesn't. She changed of position. Please, eat.

_My stomach is tight just because we're talking about him; I'm not doing that in purpose. She sighed.

_I was feeling that way when I met your father. She remembered.

_Daddy says that I would die if we'd do it and...you know the consequences. She lowered her gaze.

_Yes, so as you know, I've been with child. Don't use a code to talk about this with me. You're my daughter and it is my mother role to teach you what I know. She brushed against her cheek. I want you to speak freely, in despite of what happened to your sister.

_Do you think I'll die if I'd give him a child? She whispered turning pale.

_This is the risk each woman takes when she loves. She was moved.

_You think I would? She stared at her hands.

_I don't know, I can't tell. She sighed. I've seen solid women died in childbirth, and others, more delicate and frail than you ,giving birth to ten pounds babies, one after another. Only God knows why.

_You're not helping me. She raised her brow,

_Listen to your heart, Justice. It's and will be your best guide through life. She brought her hand to her left breast. If you love this man, and if he loves you as much, then everything will work its way.

_Hum. She frowned. I've no clue.

_You won't have more clue if you keep on avoiding him. Her mother stood up. Go talk to him.

_Father...Justice began.

_He wants to protect you, that's all. Like my father did when I met yours. She smiled amused. I know you won't do anything stupid, I trust you. Let me know if you want to go see him, I will watch after the shop.

Justice nodded and resumed her work. Her mother left the workshop and went back to work.

The bells rang the end of the afternoon, and Justice thought she had worked enough. She had caught up on her orders and even was ahead on her book. She covered the clay with her apron and washed her hands. She walked to the table and inspected the cup she had finished painting for Claude. It was dry and ready to be delivered. She looked at its bottom that she had personalized. Justice purposely had carved the P of her last name to make it look like a sort of F. On the line below, she had written a "Mea Culpa" surrounded by her winged heart pierced by the Cupido's arrow. She laughed of her fact, knowing that, like all her customers, he would not read the bottom of the cup. The proof was that their new costumers always searched the all of Paris before finding their shop. They all came because they saw some of her pieces at a friend's home and could have save themselves the walk if they had check the dishes bottoms.

She carefully wrapped the cup into a piece of cloth and left her workshop. She went to her bedroom and changed her work-clothes for something more appropriate. Also, for the first time, she opened the right side of her dresser to pick a gown instead of throwing it because she judged it compromising. She picked a green and light purple one that she disregarded thinking it was indecent. She put it on and looked for a green headscarf. She tight the strings of her corsage and blushed seeing that her little white breasts went up to form two defined balls. She closed her eyes and heavily sighed, it was no the moment to change her mind. She wanted to appear as a true woman and she saw far worst in Paris. She brushed her hair and twisted them around the scarf. She took her dirty working clothes under her arm and left the room. She climbed down the stairs and her parents stared at her astonished. She looked older, she looked like a woman!

_It doesn't suit me, that's it? She was ready to return upstairs.

_No, no, you look good, it changes you that's all. Her father muttered.

_Yes, it's a nice dress. Her mother approved with a wink of the eye.

Reassured, she went to the laundry room and threw her work clothes in the basket. Then, she crossed the store in the direction of the exit.

_Where are you going? Her father mumbled.

_Hmm, see C...the provost. She lightly blushed. His order is ready.

_Hmm, he frowned, don't come back too late.

_I won't. She left the shop.

_Don't make this face. Her mother pinched his cheek. Would you prefer she becomes a nun?

_No, no. He sighed. I hope she'll be happy, that's all.

Justice walked up the Forges street. Some of her neighbors recognized her, others needed more time due to her new pastel gown. Rumors already were spreading concerning her supposed engagement to Claude Frollo. Some had seen the officer coming to the shop this morning, others had heard Phillip, the Iron craftman's son, telling that Justice had preferred the provost to him, in despite of all the good effort he made to get her affection. The Solene, of course, had opened her big mouth and said that the officer had wanted to trap her in Notre Dame to force her to marry him. Then he would have consumed the union inside the confessional and put a little provost in her drawl, with the benediction of the archbishop. Of course! These two ones were friends, everybody knew it! Oh fortunately, Solene was here to rescue the poor Justice! But why she was engaged to him anyway?! What a mess!

Justice saw the beautiful little flowers growing alongside the water wheel and knelt to gather them. She forced herself to don't pay attention to the people insistant stares and to their whispers. She resumed her walk to the Hotel-Dieu. It was closer than the cathedral, and she took the Innocents street to gain some precious time. She left her crowded neighborhood to take the Abbaye street, and walked along the many clusters to finally reach her destination. The immense Hotel Dieu was in front of her. Now, she had to climb down the stairs and find the entrance. There were two huge building on each side of the square, they seemed to be ready to crush her like a moth.

_Eh! Hello! She shyly waved toward a group of monks. Excuse me, I am looking for...

They had bowed their heads and were rushing into the opposite direction.

_Thank you. She sighed

She kept on walking down the stairs, wondering if she actually was to the Hotel Dieu. She heard a noise of dishes and silverware; she decided to follow it. Hopefully, the cooks would help her. She saw a man drying the dishes and another was classing the silverware in a cart. They were monks. She decided to hide behind a furniture. She did not want to scare them away like the others.

_Hmm, Sirs, she interrupted them, Don't run away, please.

The men let go off their tasks and were startled.

_I won't show myself to you, I promise. She saw them looking around in surprise. I know that I'm not supposed to be here, but I'm lost. I'm looking for the Hotel Dieu. I want to visit a..a...friend.

_Show up! Demon! One barked with a strong accent.

_Well. She shyly left her hideout. Here I am.

_She's not demon. The other laughed.

_No, of course not, I'm just a girl, she was embarassed, I'm lost, that's all.

_The sick's entrance, on the other side. Here is our home. The monk with the accent spat. No girl here. Go away. Shhh! Va te retro, malefica!

_It was a pleasure to meeting you, she politely took her leave anyway, Where should I go?

The other monk, the nicer one, walked toward her.

_Let me show you. He invited her to follow him.

_Don't touch her, Brother Baptiste. She would bewitch you! The crazy monk warned his peer.

_Come on, she's just a lost child. He put his hand against Justice's back to guide her outside.

_The devil may take several forms to seduce you! He hissed.

Justice furrowed her brows and frowned in incomprehension.

_He reads too many books about witches, so many that his head could explode. He lightly laughed.

The monk was a dark hair round young man, with a nice face. He had sparkling and laughing blue eyes.

_I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble. She followed him upstairs. I was thinking that it was a shortcut.

_You're not the first to who this happened. He sighed. The next time you'll know.

They arrived on top of the stairs and Baptiste widely opened his arms in front of her. She yelped wondering what he wanted, a hug? He was not supposed to, he was a monk!

_I'm taking the place of the sign that should be here. He said.

_Ah. She rolled her eyes.

_Man or woman? He asked.

_Man. She replied.

_This way. He showed her left.

_Thank you. She smiled.

_Go on, don't let your sweet one waiting. He encouraged her to hurry.

_My sweet one? She raised her brow.

_The flowers, I guess that he's more than a simple friend. He smiled.

_I suppose so. She bowed her head, suddenly looking sad.

_It is not bad, I hope. He seemed to worry.

_He fell off his horse this morning. He hurt his head very bad. She told him. But he should recover.

_I'll pray for him. He left her.

_Claude, his name is Claude Frollo. She gave him his identity.

_I'll pray and I hope he will get back on his feet quickly. He waved to her.

_Thank you and God be with you. She returned his wave.

She took the direction of the men aisle. She found it easily for there were a sign. She walked toward the men keeping the entrance. Two guards and one old man seating at a desk.

_What do you want? The sleepy looking old man asked her.

_I'm Justice Potier, I come to visit Claude Frollo. She announced herself. I came to bring him these flowers and his cup.

_Well, well. He evaluated her. Sign here.

_I ended up at the Monk's quarters, they should put a sign over there. She signed her name.

_Hmm, Hmm, he nodded, these gentlemen going to check if you carry any weapon or other hazardous items.

The two guards walked toward her.

_Knowing the nature of your sweet one popularity at the Truanderie, we are not too cautious. He declared. We already seen three women pretending to be his sweet one and they carried weapons or doubtful substances and foods.

_I understand. She let the men searching her.

They touched and she clenched her teeth. They opened her purse to check if she was carrying poison and removed her scarf.

_Eh! She reacted.

_Simple precaution. This could be a lethal weapon. He took it from his men to put it on his desk. For the same reason, you won't find any curtains or pillows in his room.

_The cup, Sir? One soldier asked.

_Hmm. He scratched his chin. She could break it and...

_It's a gift! She exclaimed. A special order!

_Special order. The guard looked the bottom.

_Don't...She wanted to stop him. It's private...

He laughed and gave it to this peer who did the same. Justice was as red as a tomato. The cup ended on the old man's desk who read the inscription as well. He had a light laughter and handed it back to her.

_We have nothing to fear from you, you are free to go. He authorized her to take all her items back.

Justice was escorted to the provost's room by the two guards whispering and lowly laughing. She wanted to disappear into the ground. She was starting to wonder if she should redo the cup. They were going to show the inscription to him, would he mock her too? He was not clear this morning. Did he wanted a kiss, or to be her husband? This marriage was only speculation after all. Her memory was failing under the pressure. The men opened her the door.

_Eh! Go slowly, dearie, he's recovering. One taunted her.

_Shut up! You pig! She lifted her chin up.

_Oh! Oh! His peer reacted. She has her temper, doesn't she?

_Humpf. She haltingly passed the door.

They shut it after her and she heard them laughing. She sighed and shacked her head; they were so stupid. The room was plunged into the twilight due to the folding screen set in front of the window in place of the curtains. She inspected the content of the room and did not see anything that could have been moved by a single person. No loose objects, save for a water bladder setting on the night table. The Palace paid three men to watch over one; Claude had to be important and they seemed really concerned about his safety.

She perceived a quiet but painful breathing. She stopped her exploration to walk to the bed. The beast was asleep, peaceful and defenseless. Now that he was laying down, Claude could not impress her with his height. He looked so vulnerable and human in his sleep. The sheet hid his strong shoulders, only leaving his throat exposed. Her hands would have been the only weapon she could have used against him. They would have been long enough to wrap his neck, yet she doubted that they would have been able to crush the muscles surrounding his trachea. The guards was rights, they had nothing to fear from her.

She saw that the flowers were starting to die. She unwrapped the cup, poured some water into it, and arranged the flowers, while singing along. Probably a cloud moved away from the sun because a ray of light hit the table. The flowers' little orange hearts seemed to bloom under this astral caress. Justice was stunted by the perfection of this bunch of wild flowers that she quickly gathered. A sighed and a whisper took her attention away from the cup to focus on Claude. Probably the sun had disturbed him in his sleep because he had turned his face toward her. Considering his head injury, the bandage was small. Certainly his keepers were afraid that somebody would use the cloth to strangle him.

The shiny dust was dancing in the air. The light was in full harmony with the patient's ash hair. He looked like one of these Byzantine golden icon. The volume of his curls declined from bronze to gold and she could not help herself but touching it to discover this strange texture. She sat on the edge of the bed and shyly brought her hand on his mane. She gasped when she felt something between cashmere, silk, and wool. This touch make her feel cold and warm, alarmed her heart, deepened her breath...She plunged her hand deeper in his luxurious hair. "Lust", her conscience warned her.

_Ah! She precipitately removed her hand.

She immediately left the bed and knelt, putting her elbows on the man's couch, this man whose she had profaned the temple. It was bad, very evil, far worst than the kiss they had exchanged. She did not have her rosary, she could only joined her hand in prayer and beg God for forgiveness.

_I beg you to forgive me my offense toward your servant that I have molested in his sleep. She whispered against her hands. It is my fault, all my fault, not even the fact that I am still ignorant of the evil corruptible power of the flesh does not make this dreadful act more forgivable. Father, I...

A caress on her wrist interrupted her. She jumped out of surprise and stood up, then she backed up, panting. She saw his opened palm. He moved and looked at the object set on the night table.

_I...came to...make sure you was feeling all right. She tried to control her troubled voice. And...to bring you your order.

_Don't bow your head, my sweet, look at me. He whispered.

She did not want he saw the embarrassment on her face, so she kept her eyes focused on the floor.

_Know that your feelings are shared, and that you did not molest me. I was not asleep, not really, and I liked the feeling of your touch. He admitted. I wish it would have last forever.

She lifted up her chin and the blood left her face and members.

_Come to me, he invited her, don't be afraid.

The sheet had slipped over him and his chest was exposed. God! He did not wear a shirt! And she could not help but look at him and she liked what she saw. Her conscience fought against her unholy thoughts and wants. Yes, she wanted to Touch him!Feel him! Scent him!Taste him! All in once! She started shaking and painting; she wanted to say something, even flee, but she was stuck. He intensively stared at her, his like summer thunderstorm eyes were seeking to trap her soul into their electric glance. Another of his male spell, she was drawing in these silver pools; his look was supernatural. No human on earth could do this; he was a wizard. No, his blond curls and these light eyes, those scars, the fact he survived this fall and was already recovering as nothing happened...he was far more than a wizard; he was a fallen angel of some sort.

_Justice? My sweet? He moved revealing more of himself. Are you feeling all right?

_Ah...Ah...she could only make little hiccups.

He swiftly moved his hand to invite her again. She moved her head from left to right, crossed herself, and hurriedly left the room. He sighed out of exasperation. His head was throbbing and he let himself fall back heavily on the mattress. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts were going to her, to his innocent shy sweet little potter who believed she had molested him; he could not help and laughed loudly.

Later this day, Claude received somebody else visit. He hurriedly sat in his bed in recognizing the Provost of Paris. He seemed stiffed and the patient was expecting a blame. The man's look traveled into the room. He walked toward the night table, focused on the cup and its bunch of Forget-me-not.

_Such a delicate attention. He touched a flower. So, it is that true?

_Precise, if you may. Claude looked at him.

_That you are engaged to a wench. He glanced at him.

_Sir, she is not...He started feeling anger growing into his stomach.

_It is unacceptable! His superior banged his fist on the table. You are a nobleman!

The cup jumped and moved dangerously but did not get overthrown.

_You are a King Officer! He reminded him. Your misconduct soils the Palace reputation! You...

_Would you prefer the brothel? He took the cup away from him. She may be born among the lower of the commoners, Sir, but she has grown into a virtuous, educated and talented person. Look!

_It is a cup. He calmed down. A nice cup, I must admit... So, you are serious...

_Yes, I am, Sir. He confirmed.

_Well, there is nothing I can do. He sighed. But, you will get fined ten pounds for using of your authority in another district than yours, and twenty pounds for doing it out of your service hours. And, that is not all.

Claude had already turned green by hearing the previous sanctions. He had money saved but he rather invest it in land in Paris outskirts.

_The treasure had to pay for your care, so you will pay it back entirely. The provost pursued.

_It is normal. He recognized.

_Also, I had to hire three men to keep you safe. He added. You...

_I need not these puppets! He got offended. I can defend myself!

_Silence, Frollo! He yelled. You was fainted all morning and afternoon! Truands came here with weapons and poisons!

_I see, I will pay. He surrendered.

_This fifty pounds fine will be addressed to the wench who put you into this bed. He cocked a brow.

_What? Claude turned pale. They won't be able to pay such amount! Sir, let me pay for it! Please!

_She will pay! No discussion! He hissed. Be glad I did not hang her for the example!

_Thank you. Claude muttered.

_Do not thank me. He dryly replied. You would be able to go back on the roads and let us deal with this vermin.

_You know me so well. He was being ironic.

_It does not please me, I do not like your primitive ways and I do not like you. I am doing the duty I have been elected for by keeping you into our ranks. He declared.

_I will do the duty I have been voluntarily elected for as well, Sir. He gave him a side long glance.

The provost pinched his lips and turned his back on him. He left the room and did not bother shut the door; the guards had to do it for him. Claude sighed out of relief; it was not too bad. Justice would be free; the dreadful idea of having her hanged was his first thought when he fell off his horse. He would pay this fine, he would find a way to give her the money, without the arrogant old nag knowing it. He could do nothing anyway, he knew it. Claude would return simple soldier or even mercenary, if his superior harmed Justice. He would marry her, and she would be the mother of his children. He distractedly touched the cup and felt the letters on the bottom. He lifted it up to read her handwriting. He furrowed his brows, and laughed in understanding the hidden message. He was skeptical about this P looking like a F and brushed against the curved line of the winged heart. It was somewhat childish, but so refreshing in the middle of his violent daily life.

Well, you can have an idea about where Judge Frollo obsessive behavior and religious fervor would be coming from. Concerning his boldness, and sarcastic touch, well, all his father ;) Please let me know, if you like the story so far.