Chapter 9: Vulnerable Hearts
Muta had always liked to think of himself as the dependable type. Gruff, maybe – and perhaps with an overenthusiastic love of food – but dependable all the same when things got down to it. Underneath the sarky comments anyway. And he'd given his advice to Baron over several matters, whether the young noble had asked for it or not - but Muta didn't think some extra advice would go amiss - and he often did so with a noticeably loud, conspicuous voice.
However, even he – who, he also liked to think as unshakable – was unsure what to do about a Baron in love.
Not that Baron spent his time writing poetry or in a constant daze, like stories and songs tell us about people in love (that might have made things slightly easier to bear) but still Muta couldn't deny there wasn't something different about him. Like he was constantly striving for something.
But Muta was Muta – the unshakable Muta – and so he didn't respond to the changes, except, perhaps, in a slight increase in the gruffness of his tone. However, the evening of the first Thursday they spent at the DuBois mansion, another change took place in the Baron.
If Muta didn't know better, he'd say he was scheming something.
As he cracked open his stereotypical newspaper, he watched the tawny lord take periodic turns in pacing the room and staring out the window. Employed by the Baron he may be, but they were still friends and their casual time in one of the many lounges found in the DuBois mansion wasn't an odd occurrence.
"For goodness sake, Baron," Muta finally complained, snapping down his newspaper and looking over at his friend. "Are you going to tell me what's up or do I have to guess?"
Baron paused in his contemplations and moved his thoughtful gaze to Muta. As things went, Baron usually kept a 'thoughtful gaze' at ready supply with the frequent use he made of it. "I would tell you, Muta, but it's not my secret to tell."
"You think I'd blab?" asked Muta, insulted by the suggestion.
A smile twitched on Baron's face. "Quite the contrary. I know that you won't. But the fact still stands that it is not my secret to tell and so it would be a betrayal of trust to pass that knowledge onto you."
Muta huffed and rose to his feet to join Baron by the window, newspaper still clutched in hand. He looked down to see what Baron had been watching and saw two slender forms making their way across the gardens, apparently in earnest conversation.
"You just can't get her out of your head, can you?" he asked dryly.
To Muta's not-so-subtle amusement, Baron reddened slightly.
"Is it her secret?" he continued with. After Baron took a moment to reply, Muta pressed with, "The secret. Is it hers?"
Baron shook his head, but his eyes trailed back to the two young women walking through the DuBois garden. The two blondes were similar in appearance, but, to him, there could be no mistaking the lady from the maid. He could guess what they were talking about too.
Muta looked back to the two people Baron was watching, before adding, "Is it the maid's then?"
Baron blinked and with a slight air of annoyance, turned to his friend. "Haven't you got someone to pick an argument with right now? Like Toto, for example?"
"Toto? Who's Toto?"
Baron rolled his eyes. "Toto? The man you were arguing with outside the stables before the Prince arrived?"
"Oh, him. Is that his name?"
Chuckling to himself at the other man's predictability, Baron asked Muta, "How can you get into an argument with someone before you've even learnt their name?"
Muta, in turn, raised a thick eyebrow of his own. "Baron, we've known each other for how long and you still have to ask that?"
Shaking his head, Baron admitted that perhaps his question had been void and found his eyes unhelpfully drawn back to the two women outside. He smiled contently before part of his mind realised that Muta was saying something.
"I'm sorry; could you repeat that?"
Muta scoffed. "Boy, you really are smitten. I was just asking whether I should be worried about this scheme of yours."
"Scheme? Who said I had a scheme?"
Again, Muta raised a thick eyebrow. "I know you have some scheme in mind. You have that expression. Out of interest, when this scheme comes into place, should I duck?"
Baron paused. "Really; don't you have someone to argue with?" he repeated tightly.
Taking his newspaper, Muta retired to the chair he'd occupied earlier. "Nope. Looks like you're stuck with me for the time being."
"Lucky me."
ooOoo
"And how exactly did you persuade your mother to stay home today?" Baron asked curiously as they headed out to the middle of town. It was Friday and Haru had alerted the household of the Summer Festival that started on that day and, following that enlightenment, had insisted on them going out into town.
Miraculously, Lady DuBois had been talked out of accompanying them.
Haru smirked as she continued along the street, just a little pleased with herself; Yuki and Toto in tow behind the couple. "I just told her that if she didn't want to ruin my chance with you, she should give us a little privacy. My mother is terrifying, but, bless her, she is just a tad predictable."
"Well, I'm glad someone's worked her out."
Haru continued to smirk to herself as they walked along the street, making their way past the well-kept shops of the main street on their way to Cornmarket Street – the road where the festival stalls and plaza usually were. However, she paused at a shop, marked Madame Bonacieux's, of which the display window was full of colourful, elegant dresses. She turned to Toto.
"Is this the shop?"
The consort nodded. "Yes, your mother usually purchases the dresses from here."
"Good." Taking Yuki's wrist, Haru dragged the maid into the shop. The two men glanced after her before hesitantly following.
The inside was just as colourful and stuffed as the display window suggested; dress materials and sashes and clothe covering nearly every surface. On the gentle tinkle of the bell as they entered, a short woman entered, supposedly Mme Bonacieux. The lady carried herself with a distinct air of pride; the scarlet dress she was wearing designed to flatter her curves so, even in her early forties, the woman looked stunning and poised for anything.
"Ah, Mademoiselle Louise; what a delight to be seeing you here again – and so soon after the last ball, no?" Mme Bonacieux's accent was distinctly foreign, but in a pleasant, lilting way, although even that could not hide the sharp tone the woman – by nature – possessed. "You liked the dress I made for you, yes? Ah, the material was beautiful, although your mother, she is quite controlling over the style, is she not?" The woman laughed and moved around the shop, looking through her wares. "I tell your mother, I say that perhaps you suit something simpler, but she say, 'No! My daughter must be belle of the ball!'" Mme Bonacieux shrugged and tossed a few dresses onto an already full table. "I know you don't need fancy dress to be belle, but your mother is paying, so I don't say anything more than that. But perhaps for the ball this Sunday you make your own decision, yes? Ah, the ball, it is not official yet, but I hear these things. Young lady just this morning come in and demand for dress for Sunday. I ask her why, she say–"
Haru moved into to interrupt the woman's progress before she could pick out another dress. "That is really very thoughtful of you, but I don't need a dress."
Mme Bonacieux paused in her movement. "Your mother, then?"
"No, not my mother. I was wondering whether you had a dress for Yuki." Haru pulled forward the mute maid, who froze like a rabbit under the stares of the dressmaker.
"Your maid? This is most unusual."
"I know." Haru pushed Yuki further forward so Mme Bonacieux could take a full look at the girl. "Please? Something nice. Something for the ball this Sunday."
The other woman walked round Yuki, moving the maid's head round to study the face in profile and portrait, then checking the length and thickness of her hair and inspecting her posture and form.
"She is pretty, I give you that," Mme Bonacieux commented in her foreign accent on completing her assessment, although the accent meant that her comment sounded like, 'She iz pretty, I geeve you tha'.'
"The eyes, they are a unique colour – like your eyes, although the form and skin colour... they are not like yours," the dressmaker continued. "They are nice though. I can work with them." The woman walked away and started tossing new dresses onto the previous pile; not bothering to return them to their racks. "The colour, it should pick out her eyes," she continued with, throwing out one periwinkle blue dress and a pretty pink one and tossing them both to the bewildered maid. "Go try them on."
Yuki stood where she was, still stunned by the scene before her. She passed a hand over the dresses, almost in awe in considering wearing them. "But they are way too pretty for me..."
Mme Bonacieux scoffed and pushed the maid towards the changing rooms. "Dresses are only pretty when worn. Now, go. You are young and you are pretty," she stressed, still directing the girl to the dressing rooms, "and you should not waste that while you still 'ave it."
Yuki eventually gave in to the commanding woman and vanished into one of the rooms.
"She is a pretty girl," the dressmaker remarked to the other three who had watched the proceedings with interest. "Although I cannot imagine Lady DuBois ordering a dress for any of her staff." She brought her hands up before any of them could say anything. "But it is not my place to comment. You ask for a dress, I get her a dress. I ask no questions."
Haru smiled to the woman, who, in spite of her domineering side, she was rapidly warming up to. "Thank you. We appreciate it."
The short woman nodded and looked over to the Baron, who was standing to the side in a manner that suggested he was unsure what to do in the situation. Mme Bonacieux smiled knowingly at Haru. "I see your mother is just as eager for a son-in-law, no? Which one is he?"
"His name is Baron Humbert von Gikkingen."
"Ah, no; you misunderstand me, Mademoiselle. Which number is he?"
Haru looked blank for a few seconds before Toto cut in to save her having to answer.
"He's the twenty-first suitor."
The woman smiled again to Haru. "You are speeding through the men, no? You will soon run out if you are not careful."
Haru smiled back, but this time her smile was a little weak. Sometimes she forgot Louise's well-known history. It had a habit of catching up with her at the most awkward of times. She was saved face from the embarrassment of having to answer by Yuki's timid exit from the dressing room.
"Well?" the maid asked quietly, modestly stepping out, "what do you think?"
She was dressed in the blue dress, which fell to her ankles in a simple-cut style and hugged her figure gracefully. She moved across the room carefully, as if unsure how to walk in so beautiful a dress.
"You look amazing, Yuki!" Haru cried, grinning wildly at the maid's transformation. "That is definitely the dress, isn't it?" she added, turning to Toto and Baron for additional conformation. The two men nodded mutely, distinctly gaining the impression that this wasn't their territory to comment on.
"Non," the dressmaker said abruptly, her accent thickening. "It isn't perfect. Try out the other dress."
Haru appealed to Mme Bonacieux. "What? But she looks lovely."
Mme Bonacieux tutted to the young woman. "Don't be so 'asty. We will look at the other dress, then we will decide. Go," she ordered, shooing the maid back in the direction of the changing rooms. "Pick out the other one."
Having long given up trying to persuade the woman otherwise on anything, Yuki sighed and returned back through the door she'd previously come through.
Also giving up on persuading Mme Bonacieux anything, Haru brought up a chair hidden by a rack of material and sat down, deciding that if she was going to wait around for a while, she might as well get comfy.
"So, this ball that all the ladies are a-flutter about," the dressmaker started, after a minute of waiting in silence for the maid to reappear; "you are going, no?"
Despite everything, Haru laughed. "Oh, if my mother has anything to say, I certainly will be."
"You have a dress for it?"
Again, Haru laughed. "Nothing special. Although..." she added in a thoughtful voice, "if I made a few changes to the red dress... Changed the colour, change the neckline..."
"Would you like me to do that, Mademoiselle?" Mme Bonacieux offered.
"No, I think I can manage."
On receiving a few surprised looks from those around her, Haru realised that Louise probably never learnt how to make changes to a dress. She flustered a bit before putting in, "I picked up a few things here and there. Anyway, it'll be an experience," she added defensively. "And a statement to my mother that I don't need her help with everything."
Mme Bonacieux tssked. "I cannot believe Madame DuBois has touched a needle and thread in her whole life."
"It would still be a statement," Haru added in a subdued voice.
"Fine. I will not make any fuss about you experimenting with a dress," the dressmaker sighed, "but if you need any 'elp, you know where to find me."
"I'll keep that in mind," Haru replied, smiling.
Across the room, there was an interrupting rustle as Yuki peeked her head around the door and hesitantly looked at the other occupants of the room. Her hands nervously played on the wooden door.
"Ah, you are dressed," whistled Mme Bonacieux, picking up her head and nodding to the maid. "Well? Come on out. No need to be shy."
Blushing gently, Yuki tiptoed out; her head bowed meekly down and her hands moving to smooth out the folds of her dress. The pink material flowed out from her waist in steadily darkening tones, rippling out in delicate layers until, at her ankles, it reached a deep purple colour. Around her waist a ribbon of the same shade was tied to bring the fabric in and the dress continued up for the sleeves around her shoulders to dissolve into a light gauzy material.
She picked up her head and looked over at the onlookers, her eyes suddenly picked out by the pink colour to give a beautiful, jewel-like quality to them.
"Well?" she asked timidly.
Haru was suddenly aware that none of them were moving and that the two men to her side had momentarily lost their breath. Mme Bonaciaux was the first to recover.
"Magnifique!" she cried, clapping her hands together, her accent slipping continuously from faint to overpowering. "What I tell you? This dress is it. Mademoiselle, you will be la beauté de la balle. The Prince 'imself will not be able to take 'is eyes off you."
Yuki looked overwhelmed by the reaction she was receiving. "This is really very kind of you all," she murmured, threading her hands nervously through the folds of her dress, "but I can't wear this."
"Why not?"
"Pourquoi?"
Both the other woman had cried out in dismay at the maid's words.
"It's too pretty... and expensive. I could never wear it."
Haru sighed and got to her feet. "You can wear it and you will. And you will be twice as pretty as any of the ladies at court and sweep the... the young man off his feet," she said firmly, only hesitant at the point where she'd nearly mentioned the Prince.
"But, the price..."
"Phooey," Haru vented. "Lady DuBois won't ever notice, and if she asks, I'll just say I got a new pair of shoes at the festival and that's where the money went. And, if she asks to see them, I'm sure I can find an old pair of shoes that she can't remember and show her them instead. I insist, Yuki."
"But..."
"You'd better give in, Yuki," Toto commented from the side. Only now had either of the men decided to speak up. "You know how stubborn she's capable of being."
The maid surrendered with a hopeless shake of her head. "I can't believe you've talked me into going at all. This is... madness."
Haru grinned. "There was never a genius without some touch of madness."
"Aristotle," Baron offered, taking from Toto's lead that the conversation was now open for all.
Haru turned to the tawny lord. "Oh, is that who said that? I just know my mother keeps on telling me that." She shook her head and looked back to Yuki. "Okay, returning from that tangent... Yuki, I'm not giving you a choice. Even if you refuse, I'm still going to buy the dress and force it on you when Sunday comes."
"She might actually mean it too," Toto commented with distaste. "Just let her buy the dress and be done with it."
Haru smiled knowingly. "Now you're getting it."
ooOoo
With the dress bought and packaged in a wide dress box, the four of them had exited the shop and continued along the street, ever getting closer to the festival and stalls taking place down Cornmarket Street. Yuki had insisted on taking the dress and taking it back to the manor, leaving only the three of them to arrive at the festival.
Cornmarket Street was a wider, more varied variation of the cleanly upkept version that Madame Bonacieux's had been situated on. Small stalls bustled for space, crowding the way of the shops placed behind them; a colourful array of merchandise and products screaming for attention from wherever a person looked. However, before they had reached the plaza that Cornmarket led to, Haru paused and asked the two men to wait for her as she disappeared into a familiar-looking bakery. When she came back out, she was carrying a paper bag, of which she took out a couple of biscuits and tossed one to each of them.
"They're specially made biscuits that the shops only sell during the Summer Festival," she explained, taking one out for herself and continuing along the street. "If you're going to go to a festival, you might as well do it right."
Baron looked over his biscuit, which was in the shape of a sun; the rays coming out in a way that almost made it look more like a yellow night star than the radiant orb above their heads. Toto had already started on his ice-cream shaped one, while Haru was systematically taking off the yellow petals of her sunflower. In between bites she would tell them about the festival's usual routine – the dancing in the plaza; the clown acts and parade that meant the place was always filled with colour; the bonfire that was set up when evening came and the temperature dropped...
The young woman's azure eyes became animated as she talked, and when they entered the plaza, the other two saw that she hadn't been exaggerating.
The normally mundane square was a constantly moving stream of colour; music flowing from one stand and a variety of people in strange, multicoloured outfits continuously shifting around the plaza. There was a space in the middle; pedestrianised and cobbled, evidently meant for shows. Even now there was a local magician creating illusions to capture the attention of the children – and several adults unwillingly drawn into it.
Haru grinned when she saw Baron and Toto's astonishment at the 'peasant' fair – all so much brighter and livelier than they had ever dreamed of. She dragged them along the edge, sidestepping around a clown on stilts; waving up at the man as they passed, and around a puppet show; the miniature theatre so very makeshift, but still gathering a crowd of children around it. With the spare change she talked Lady DuBois to lend her, she purchased some other sweet treat for her and the other two before finally stopping where the magician was to watch his show.
"Now, watch carefully as even, before your very eyes, I turn this simple rose into a dove," the young magician was enthusing, flourishing a red bloom in his gloved hands as if to prove to the world that what he held in his hands was, indeed, a rose. A slip of the hand and a gleam of magic later, it was white dove – as white as his white magician gloves – that he held.
There was generally impressed applause from his audience.
"Do you think," Baron started, leaning over to Haru as he clapped, "that he's using real magic, or just feint of hand?"
Toto appeared to have overheard, because he joined in with, "Well, you know these street magicians; half of it is just tricks made to fool the gullible."
Haru glared at her consort, still clapping. "Tsuge is one of the best young magicians around Cornmarket Street. Why, when I was younger he used to impress all the other children by doing small tricks like illusions. He used to tell us that he was going to grow up to be a magician. We laughed, but he's the one who's laughing now."
Baron looked to Haru, peeling his eyes away from the magician who was now releasing the dove, creating an illusion to make it appear as if it were flying off in a golden ray of light. "I cannot imagine your mother letting you play with anyone she considered 'inferior'," he commented, emphasis on his part making it obvious that he didn't share Lady DuBois's distaste of the lower classes.
Haru laughed, partly embarrassed on her slip-up. She had forgotten she was posing as a lady, and not as a young woman living on Peddler's Street. "Oh, I escaped from my mother's close watch enough times." She imagined Louise probably had.
Seeing a familiar brunette, however, wander carefully into the plaza, Haru quickly excused herself and made her way over to the newcomer.
"Louise... you finally made it."
The young woman smiled, but continued to glance around nervously. "Yes, I told Mr Cesari that I had told him I would be taking today off, and Lettie backed me up. Your mother had been insisting that I take today off anyway."
"Why weren't you coming in the first place?"
Louise – the real Louise – grinned ruefully, if a little forced. "Everyone knows me here," she whispered. "At least, they know you. I haven't got the faintest clue who anyone is..."
As if to prove her point, a couple of twin girls dressed in identical costumes walked by, briefly greeting Louise as they went.
"See?" Louise demanded, faking a smile and waving back at the other two. "I have no idea who they are. I just have to hope they don't come into conversation with me..."
"Tia and Lisa," Haru answered, as if that would help. "That's their names," she added. "They're probably going to do an act or something. Anyway, do you think it's any easier being you?"
"Ah, okay. How's the mother doing?"
"Tolerable."
Louise laughed and the two young women found a seat to the side to occupy to continue their conversation. "I told you she wouldn't spot a difference." Her eyes travelled to the suited man beside Toto; the two men were across the plaza in a conversation of their own. "So who's the guy? Another suitor?"
Haru paused. "He's the same one your mother invited over the same day we swapped."
Louise also paused, but there was mild surprise in her hesitation. "He's still around? Haven't you chased him off yet?"
The true-brunette coughed awkwardly as she attempted to laugh casually at the same moment. The result was a doubly awkward noise from her throat. "He's proving to be particularly... stubborn."
Grinning wickedly, the lady however just leant forward in a conspiring manner and rubbed her hands together in an extremely unladylike way. "Tell me something about him and I'll see if I can think up something. Three and seven are lucky numbers; surely the two multiplied together should be doubly so." The grin widened. "What with him being the twenty-first suitor and all. Perhaps after this one Mother will give up."
Haru, despite everything, snorted. "I think it'll take something truly spectacular to throw your mother off this particular scent."
Louise considered this. "Perhaps then I need to send of this suitor in a truly spectacular manner then. Or, to be more precise, you need to."
The other woman just barely resisted to snort again. "Louise, I think the only thing to stop your mother in this crusade of hers would be if you walked up the aisle yourself."
"But that would be giving in!"
"Seriously, Louise, are you just turning down suitors for the sake of it?"
The true-blonde paused before shrugging and turning the conversation onto something easier. "Tell me what the guy is like and perhaps I can think a way you can scare him off. Have you acted 'unladylike'?"
Haru laughed hoarsely. "Repeatedly."
Louise paused again. "Strange. That usually scares off most suitors."
"I have also danced horrifically and almost crippled him at the ball in the process, fallen over into a pudding, been proclaimed 'unusual' frequently and had mix-messages mood swings," Haru added blankly.
"Wow, you're really getting into the hang of this."
Haru gave her a frank look. "It wasn't intentional."
"Ah."
The false-brunette sat up abruptly and observed the young noble across the square, her eyebrows knitted together in the illustration of thought. "So he's fine with a young woman acting off the beaten path, is he...?"
"Apparently he's fine with a young woman acting entirely off the rails," Haru replied tautly. She watched the other woman's gaze and worry flitted across her own mind. "Louise..."
"Perhaps the way to throw him off would to be a young lady then..." Louise concluded thoughtfully.
"Louise..."
"What?"
Haru found herself unintentionally cringing under the other woman's polite gaze. "Perhaps... perhaps you should give this one a chance."
Louise laughed once again; those familiar brown eyes glimmered. "Oh, Haru, are you really that naive? My mother hasn't picked one decent suitor since she stubbornly caught this idea."
"You said twenty-first might be lucky," she replied, subdued.
"Yes, but I wasn't thinking of that."
"What is it you have against suitors?" Haru suddenly demanded. She rose abruptly to her feet and stared angrily down at the other woman. For some reason her pulse had picked up its pace and a frustrated furrow had dented her brow. She didn't know why, but suddenly this was important to her. "What is this; some game? Is this all some game to you?" she snapped. "See how fast you can drive each suitor off? Or is it just to make a point to your mother? Because I am telling you, you can hurt people this way." The anger just as abruptly left her now and her shoulders slumped tiredly. "Don't you see just how lucky you are, Louise? You don't need lucky numbers or anything like that; you were lucky the moment you were born into the DuBois family."
Louise's face had flitted through a variety of emotions during Haru's rant, but at the end it decided on mild confusion and sympathy. "Haru... what's brought this about?"
The true-brunette slipped tiredly back into the seat she had occupied before. One hand covered her face in a subconscious, vain attempt to hide her emotions. She hadn't meant to come out with that outburst. "Baron's a good guy, Louise," she murmured. "Any woman who ends up with him will be lucky. Please, remember that when you take your proper place. Please, don't dismiss him immediately. He deserves so much more than that."
The other young woman watched Haru carefully and now the realisation came. "You've... fallen in love... haven't you?"
A half-sob cracked from behind Haru's hand. "I'm afraid so," she whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry."
"Perhaps... perhaps we should end this experiment," Louise offered carefully.
"No." Haru seemed surprised at her own sudden answer. She brought her head out of her hand and looked at her doppelganger, her eyes shining a little too brightly with the emotions simmering so close to the surface. "No. Please, I know nothing can happen between me and Baron but... can you let me be deceived a little longer first?"
"Haru, you're just leading him on then."
"Then I won't act in love then!" Haru snapped. She stared back at her could-be twin; confusion visible in both pairs of eyes, one maple brown and one azure blue. She took a deep breath before continuing. "I like being in his presence. When I'm around him I feel... like everything could work out. Like I could be just myself and it wouldn't matter. Like being just myself is the right thing to be. No one's ever made me so content to just... be me."
"And yet... you want me to give him a chance?" Louise ventured carefully.
"I don't want him hurt."
"If you don't want him hurt, then why are you leading him on?"
Again, Haru rose to her feet, but it was a slower movement to its earlier counterpart. Periwinkle eyes stared unseeing out to the crowd before her as her hands curled comfortingly around one another. "I know. I know..." The bejewelled eyes flitted to Louise. "We'll swap come Monday, right?"
The true-blonde nodded. "I think it will be for the best."
Haru heaved another deep breath, but it weighed heavier than any air should be. She had to forcefully drag it into her lungs in preparation for her next sentence; a decision finally reached as several, important, facts clicked into place. She knew what to do. It was going to hurt, but she needed to do this. "I caused this; I should end it." She blinked away the possible tears. "There's a ball come this Sunday. I'll tell him then that I'm ending this then. He agreed that if... if this didn't work out then he'd leave. No fuss or anything." Apparently just blinking the tears away didn't work because she had to wipe a hand across her face to catch the wayward droplets. "That way you can keep your perfect record."
"Haru, I'll give him a chance if you want me too."
Haru made soft eye contact with Louise. "Really? And what if you decide that he's not the one for you? Despite everything, he's not. And you know that." There was a silence between the two of them. "He's a good guy, Louise; if he's going to get hurt, it's only right that he gets hurt by the person who's responsible for it."
"Haru..."
The young woman ignored Louise and shakily started back to the two guys standing across the plaza, but Louise caught her wrist. Numbly, Haru turned round to face her.
"You're a braver person than I," Louise whispered. A weak smile flickered across the true-blonde's face.
A bittersweet smile echoed Louise's on Haru's face. "I know I'm not destined for a happy-ever-after, but people like you, Louise, are. Come with me."
"Why?"
Haru lead her lookalike across the square. "I think there's someone who needs to ask you for a dance."
ooOoo
A/N: Okay, I admit stolen inspiration here. Yuki's second dress was 'borrowed' from Harry Potter. I was thinking about giving her a pink dress to match the bow she wears in the film, and Hermione's pink Yule Ball dress came instantly to mind. One; it is pretty and two; I can imagine (human) Yuki wearing it.
And the creation of Madame Bonacieux came about as an overdose of Poirot and The Three Musketeers. Don't ask me how you pronounce her name though.
Just to reiterate, this will be the last chapter before I leave for Africa. The next chapter will be posted at the beginning of August.
God bless,
Cat.
