So, ma Cherie, tell me. Why did you run away from Saubure?" Clopin was lying on the floor, head propped up on one arm, watching the youthful girl closely with curiosity.
"Oh, that's not interesting, Clopin. It would bore you to death, I'm afraid." Josephine smiled at him over her shoulder, and then went back to rearranging her belongings in her new tent. Clopin had arranged for a place to stay for however long she liked. It was very airy yet had a cozy feel to it.
"Surely there was a good reason, no? One does not flee from nothing!"
"True. But my reason is not nearly as thrilling as it has been made out to be." She kneeled in front of her trunk, carefully folding her clothes and jewelry and placing them inside.
"Tell me, and I will be the judge of that."
Josephine gave an overly playful sigh. "Really, you just won't stop!" She smiled to let him know she was only joking. He grinned back at her, his dark eyes twinkling in the light of the candles she had lit.
"I must know!" His accent made the words roll off his tongue with such ease and a certain sense of seductiveness that Josephine couldn't help but to smile to herself. Clopin had a certain way about him that made it nearly impossible to not trust him. She saw no reason to not confide in him the basics of her escapade.
"I ran away to avoid an arranged marriage."
"Really? That is quite intriguing—and what about this man made him so repulsive you couldn't marry him?" Clopin sat up and in a flash, pulled out his puppet. Where he even kept the thing, Josephine didn't know, but she found out quickly that Clopin was never without his puppet "mini-me".
"Perhaps he was ugly! Or old!" The puppet chirped, and Clopin pretended to shush it with a swift hit to the head.
"Oh, no. He was none of those things. He just wasn't for me." She stated, returning to folding her clothing.
"Arranged marriages are rarely ever meant to be. Really, why did you take off?" Clopin walked over to her and sat on the edge of the trunk, listening fixedly. He leaned down so they were nearly face to face, with a small grin playing on his lips. "Hmmm?"
Attempting to buy a little time, she held up an ornate headpiece and pretended to examine it. It was gold with stones inlayed into the metal, and had several stands of beads flowing down.
"What's that?" Clopin asked, his attention rapidly diverted. "It's so… peculiar looking. You wear this on your head?" He whipped off his feathered hat, removing the headpiece from her hands and placing it upon his head. The beaded stands swung down to his shoulders, contrasting with his jet black hair. The gold metal across his forehead glinted in the light.
"Give that back before you break it!" Josephine exclaimed, reaching up and carefully lifting it off his head, silently thanking God she was not required to answer any more questions about her ex-intended husband. "It's all the rage in the Middle East. I travelled there before coming here."
"You've been many places, then." Clopin clasped his gloved hands together, gazing kindheartedly down at the 19 year old.
"Just the Middle East. And Paris."
"And Paris is better, no?" He grinned, nudging her to agree with him.
"Of course it is." She couldn't help but to think the main reason she preferred France over all other countries she had been to was because of the man sitting in front of her.