LADY NIGHTMARES PART 4
"Coccinelle, wait!" Chat shouted, but she was already flying over the large house and into the cloudy night sky.
His ring bleeped a warning at him and he watched as the second green paw on his ring disappeared. Turning to the old woman on his arm, he looked her over once more. She was blinking, her mind obviously having trouble putting the pieces together.
"I've got to leave you here, Madame."
"I was in my room earlier and now I'm… but who was that young girl? Coccinelle?" Slowly, her dark eyes flicked to Chat and her mouth dropped open as if truly seeing him for the first time.
"Who are you, young man!? You have ears on your head like a kitten! Are they real?"
"My name is Chat-" his lips curling into a gentle smile, "-I hope whatever has happened to you that you'll forgive the girl in the purple dress."
"The girl in the purple dress?" She repeated bewildered, the wisps of her grey hair fluttering in her confusion. "What girl? Do you mean Solene?"
His green eyes widened behind his mask. Heat snaked up the back of his neck. "Solene… is that her name? The one with the dark hair and blue eyes?"
"Yes, that's her."
Remembering the closeness of her lips, her lovely blue eyes slowly opening, her soft hair falling over his arm - his cheeks unknowingly blushed and Marjoline's eyes narrowed perceptively.
Another chirp on his ring woke him from the sweet memory and he stepped back, reaching for his staff.
"If you'll excuse me-"
"Young man! Chat!" She grabbed his arm and he looked down at her curiously.
"Solene… what is she to you?"
His heart sprinting a mile, his stomach churning, and his breath catching in his throat, he suddenly felt as if his entire tongue was made of lead. Opening and closing his mouth, his brain tried to formulate a proper reply. As he continued to stare, muted like a fish, the old maid's lips curled up with a knowing grin.
"Interesting…" she murmured before letting him go.
Backing away and tripping only once, Chat nodded awkwardly before leaping into the sky and catapulting over the rooftop with his staff-
Only to see the girl - Solene - hurrying to her front door. His heart lurched and a brush of excitement ran down his spine.
"Mademoiselle!" He called, landing in front of her on the pathway. Watching her jump back with surprise, he straightened with a large smile. "I'm glad you are safe."
"Yes-yes, I hid just like you told me to." She glanced down shyly before flicking those brilliant eyes up at him.
Chat's gaze flicked to her lips - which she was starting to bite down on - and he swallowed tightly in his throat.
"I am… I am happy to report fixed that is everything. I mean," he grimaced, "that everything is fixed. Your Marjoline is back to normal and so should everyone - everything in your house."
He knew his cheeks were tomato red and wanted to bury his face in his hands. Oh, Dieu...
"What a relief. Thank you, tig-ahhh…" she stopped and blushed prettily. "Thank you - uh, brave cat-man."
"Just 'Chat' is fine," he laughed and then his ring chirped. Both their eyes flicked to his hand. Gaspard cleared his throat and gave her a deep bow. "I better go. Until next time we meet... Mademoiselle Solene."
Her breath caught in her throat and her lips fell open in surprise as he quickly extended his staff and catapulted into the sky.
He knew her name…
Chat knew her name…
How did he find out?
Still love-struck, Solene stumbled through the front door - and her delight was instantly washed away to a shiver of unease. The Bourgeois were gathered in a corner of the parlor, whispering tensely to each other.
Her father was awake; perched on the white sofa with his wig on the floor and his brown hair a mess on his head. With his face in his hands, he looked like a defeated soldier. Hurrying from the door, she ran to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
His shoulders stiffen at her touch.
"Solene..." he said tensely. "There you are. You mustn't wander when we have guests."
He lifted his hands - she thought to return the hug - but he pried her arms off of him, pushing her gently away.
The disappointment stung hard and painful.
"She wasn't wandering! She was asleep! We were all asleep, Monsieur Montilyet!" Claudette's cry snapped in the air. "There was a monster in your house! It attacked us!"
"I don't remember a monster," he mumbled, standing from the couch.
Solene backed away from him, the memory of her nightmare brushing horrifically over her: she was a useless Montilyet - never following his orders –
Life would be better if she were dead.
"I don't remember one either," she said swiftly, catching her father's eye.
Monsieur Bourgeois' lower growl jumped in. "I assure you, Montilyet, there was a phantom of a woman! She came at us like she was going to kill us! Did you invite us here to have us slaughtered!? I dreamed… I dreamed…"
The grown man began to weep.
"Oh, dearest," Claudette's mother cooed, wrapping her arms around her crying husband. Shooting both Montilyets a glare over her shoulder, Madame Bourgeois began pulling him from the parlor and to the front door. "I believe this disastrous dinner party is officially over! What a disgrace this night has become! If you ever decide to hold another party again, we will make sure to lose our invitation!"
Her father's spine was ramrod straight as they passed him. Not a flicker of emotion crossing his face.
Claudette followed her parents, her light blue eyes holding a haunted look. She stopped just as she neared Solene and her hand suddenly snatched the raven's arm in a painful squeeze.
Solene gasped.
"If you think I'd let Bernard Abelin marry you, you are dead wrong! He is mine! Even if he is in love with you, he won't be for long when he hears about what happened tonight! I'll make sure our entire circle knows how you treat guests in your home!"
Shaking the blonde girl's grip off her, Solene shot her a haughty glare of her own, but her rebuttal twisted on her tongue.
Night was in full bloom as the Bourgeois venomently excused themselves out the front door. Her father, following them out to their carriage like any great host, was silent as their muttering insults continued to spew forth. Standing at the doorway with her heart in her stomach, Solene caught the lost look in her father's eye as their carriage left down the driveway and hurried into the busy streets of Paris. Turning, he met her gaze and, for a split second, there was a small vulnerability in his eyes.
A weariness that she knew only too well.
As quickly as it came, it left - hidden behind iron.
Following him back into the house, maids and manservants were beginning to file into the front parlor now that the guests were gone; down the stairs, or around back from the kitchens. They looked to her father - their expressions in various stages of fear. A wisp of white hair appeared around the doorway to the kitchens and Solene saw Marjoline's lined face grow more wizened behind the crowd.
"Sir-" one of the manservants spoke up, "-what happened tonight? Is the monster truly gone? Or did it even exist…? I remember… I remember packing to leave for the night and suddenly, I was dreaming… such terrible things…"
"I did, too… my mother… she died over and over." A girl whimpered into her hands.
"I dreamed I lost parts of my limbs."
"I was on fire."
"Spiders… spiders, everywhere…"
"Whatever has occurred tonight will never happen again, I assure you," her father said, his voice peppered with reassurance.
"Sir," a pretty maid broke in with her cheeks flaming, "I wasn't caught by the monster. I was in the upstairs library when the attack started and I hid there, but… but I saw-I saw out the window a man dressed as like a black cat and a girl in a short red dress with a hat covering her face. They led the monster out of the house and into the gardens and turned her back into Marjoline! She was the one who attacked us! Is this true?"
There was a collective gasp as the old maid slinked into the shadows with her face in her hands. All eyes turned to her and Solene was about to step forward to speak.
"This never happened." Demetri Montilyet said the words with so much authority, the maid squeaked and ducked behind a tall manservant. "There was never a monster. Tonight shall never be mentioned again. Please note I will raise each one of your wages for the rest of the month to compensate for your discretion. However, if I hear of any rumors spreading around of this so-called monster, I will make sure whomever started the rumor will never find another position in France again."
The threat was as real and scary as the monster had been. Solene gazed on each face and saw similar expressions of curiosity and fear.
"If there are any more concerns, please see your head of staff for clarification."
With that said, the servants parted to let him walk up the staircase. Suddenly, he stopped and turned back to catch Solene's eye.
"Before I forget, there might also be another rumor that Marjoline was dismissed from her position earlier this afternoon. I want to clear the air and assure you that Marjoline has served this house faithfully and will continue to do so until she leaves of her own volition."
A gasp of relief escaped Solene's lungs and she felt her eyes burn with tears of gratitude. Pushing them back, she followed the crowd as they all turned to look at the old maid again. Her chocolate eyes wide and her thin lips trembling, Marjoline looked on the verge of tears as well.
"That is all."
Montilyet turned briskly and continued up the stairs. They waited - Solene, included - as the footsteps resounded on the second floor and the distant bang of his office door shutting washed over the entire house.
Then, the whispers broke out amongst them all.
"We can't talk about it?"
"Why does he want to keep this quiet?"
"Spiders? I thought you didn't like bees."
"I don't like either of them, but spiders… too many legs."
"The monster was Marjoline?"
"They changed her back? How did they do that?"
"The Heroes of Paris were here!?"
"I need to see my mother. It's been too long since I've visited her."
"Abigayle, did you really see the Heroes of Paris?" One of the maids asked the pretty servant girl and she nodded excitedly. Many around her turned to listen.
"I did! They are unbelievable! The girl flies like a bird. She's amazing and quick! She's the one who fixes all the damage! The man dressed like a black cat broke the fountain and she fixed it! Like magic! And it was because of that girl that Marjoline..." The girl stopped, her silly smile lowering.
"Marjoline is no longer a… monster…" she finished hesitantly.
"What could Montilyet be thinking? Marjoline can stay here?" A manservant turned to the old woman scornfully and she cowered back. "You attacked us, you old crone!"
"You were the one who made me dream about spiders!"
"How do you expect to stay here after doing such a thing?"
The aged maid shook her head tightly, her hands covering her face. "I-I didn't mean…"
"Enough!" The word snapped from Solene's lips before she could stop herself. Many heads swiveled to her in shock as if they'd forgotten she was there. Swallowing something bitter in her throat, Solene pressed her lips together tightly and marched forward. They made a pathway for her - just like her father. Abigayle caught her eye and the pretty girl's face instantly held a taste of fear.
"I believe my father demanded not to speak of what happened here tonight ever again. If you want to continue working here, you should all go back to your chores if you know what's good for you."
Holding her head high with her black hair flicking haughtily over her shoulder, she took the steps to follow her father and called out, "Marjoline, please bring my dinner to my bedroom."
"Yes, Mademoiselle." The wonderful voice answered her.
"Also," she added sharply, "if you have any issues with the staff here, please feel free to report to me. I will ensure my father knows his demands are not being satisfied properly."
Whispers continued as soon as she was out of sight. Forcing herself to stomp to her room, her footsteps grew faster and faster till she was practically sprinting to the door. Opening it, she was surprised to see nothing had changed at all. Her entire room was as it was before - buckles from her dress earlier still spread on her vanity, her hairbrush and rouge lying on her counter.
She remembered Tikki saying how maids had hidden in here and looked around sharply, but Solene was alone in the large bedroom.
The only thing missing was Treasure Island.
With a hard sigh, she shut the door, slid to the floor, and pulled her knees to her chest.
So much had happened tonight. It was almost too much to take in.
Marjoline getting turned into an akuma, Chat waking her with a kiss, saving her house from her rampaging, sleep-monster maid, the Bourgeois' leaving with threats of social suicide, her father denying that anything had even happened at all, and then… Marjoline was going to be okay.
Whatever had happened, her father seemed to have forgiven her. Maybe he had nightmares? Maybe he realized he was awful sometimes and decided to do one good thing in his life?
Something unexpected touched her hand and she glanced up to see the red kwami holding out one of Baker Boy's cookies. A tired chuckle escaped Solene's lips before she took the treat and broke it in half. Handing Tikki part of it, they both took a large bite of their share.
"Wow!" Solene said, her spirits automatically lifting at the sugar. "This is a really good cookie!"
"Isn't it?" Tikki giggled. "I never got to thank you for giving them to me."
"You're very welcome. I'll have to get more of these from Baker Boy. I will only have the best for you."
The kwami smiled kindly before a worried look crossed her small face. "Is Marjoline okay?"
"Everything is fine." Solene took another large bite, realizing how famished she really was. "Father told everyone downstairs that she was going to be here until she wanted to leave on her own. That basically means Marjoline will be here indefinitely - I hope."
"That's a relief. You saved the day again."
"Just doing my job." A nervous twist hit her stomach. "So, Tikki...about Chat and the-the-"
"The kiss?"
Solene's red cheeks rivaled Tikki's coloring. She leaned her head against the door and shoved the rest of the cookie in her mouth.
"This is just embarrassing," she said with her mouth full.
"Embarrassing, how?"
"You-you saw it… and he did it. And I just… I don't know…"
Tikki had a patient look on her face as she floated down to rest on Solene's arm. "How do you feel about it?"
"Ha-haa, good question. I certainly feel plenty. I just… I don't know really know how to explain it. I feel… I feel… it's all..."
"Mixed up?" Tikki suggested.
"That's a good way to put it. I mean, it was my first kiss. I would have liked to have been awake for it, but… I can't be upset because it was with him, you know? He's just... so amazing! He's my hero, the prince that woke me up! Just like the fairy tale, Tikki. It means true love, right? That's what that means!"
The small smile that was beginning to grow on her lips immediately lowered.
"But then I feel weird because it's strangely coincidental that I was telling Baker Boy the same exact story and how I'd never find true love. And, lo and behold, of all people, Chat is the one who woke me. Does this mean anyone could have waken me with a kiss? If it had been Bernard, or-" she made a face, "-Albert Pernell, would it have made a difference? Fairy tales don't exist in the real world."
"You fly through the air with a magical yoyo fighting monsters," Tikki reminded cutely. "I think you should take that into account, Solene. Fairy tales come from somewhere. Maybe you're creating your own."
The raven-head smiled. "I like that thought: creating my own fairy tale. Maybe I won't end up with Bluebeard after all. But-" her face screwed in apprehension, "-I feel so nervous because how do I talk to Chat about it? I certainly can't mention it to him as Coccinelle. Even bringing it up will give him too many clues about who I am. And as Solene - who knows if I'll ever see Chat like tonight ever again."
"You never know. I'm sure another opportunity will come where Chat and Solene will meet."
"Impossible. The only time I'll see him is if there's an akuma and I'm Coccinelle. There's no reason for Solene to be around if an akuma attacks randomly. I should have just confronted him when he stopped me earlier. Oh!" She sat up suddenly, remembering. "That's right! He knew my name! He called me 'Mademoiselle Solene' before he left! How did he know that?"
"Maybe he heard someone saying your name earlier?"
Solene frowned at the mystery before letting it go and blowing a strand of dark hair out of her face.
"This is just insane and mixed up. I'm happy and confused and… upset."
"Upset?"
"I was asleep for the kiss!" Solene moaned, her hands clapping on her hot face.
Tikki smiled sweetly. "It sounds like you are thinking about this way too hard. You have a long way to go before you need to sort out anything out. For now, just be Coccinelle and concentrate on what you have been chosen to do. You guys are a team - kiss or no kiss."
"Here's praying I'll be awake if there's another one," she grumbled, and Tikki giggled.
A knock on the door startled them both.
"Ma coeur? I have your dinner ready." It was Marjoline.
Waiting for Tikki to slip back into the vanity, she stood, opened the door, and let the maid inside. As soon as the food was safely on her writing desk, Solene finally did what she wanted to do since earlier that afternoon.
She crossed the bedroom to wrap her arms around her dearest Marjoline.
Swinging in through the window from the rooftop, the transformation fell away with a bright green flash just in time and Plagg floated tiredly in the darkness to Gaspard's bed. The tiny cat flopping next to the open package of camembert.
"Kind of pushing the time limit there, aren't you, kid?" The kwami sighed into Gaspard's pillow before picking up a slice of cheese.
Not answering, Gaspard crossed the floor to light the candle on his dresser. As the small light began flickering the darkness away, he turned to the window with his head full of thoughts.
So much had happened tonight, he could barely get his mind to concentrate on one thing. He'd met the beautiful Expo girl again, ran around a mansion with an akuma, saved the day with Coccinelle…
His thoughts quickly flickered to his enigmatic partner and he crossed the floor to sit tiredly on his bed next to Plagg. It was lucky Coccinelle showed up when she did. Once again, the silly girl had outsmarted the akuma. Despite how ridiculous she acted most of the time, she was amazingly perceptive: noticing the fountain outside the window, realizing the akuma had trouble phasing through her yoyo strings, using the gramophone as a makeshift spigot.
Though she did make her mistakes - he chuckled as he remembered her cutting the buckle of the akuma's shoe.
As much as he didn't want to admit it, there was something about Coccinelle that he couldn't help admiring. She had confidence, a self-assurance that seemed to be endless. She faced the akumas like she was made to be there. Ready for action. Ready to save. Completely fearless.
Despite figuring out how to break the spell over Solene - he blushed brightly at that memory - Gaspard had been lost until his partner had showed up. He'd almost gotten caught by the akuma - and yet, as soon as her tan hat had appeared, Gaspard had finally felt the tables turn in their favor.
He worried on his bottom lip with his teeth as his eyes flicked over to the small kwami. Though, once the akuma had changed back to the old lady, Coccinelle had felt… off. Like she was trying desperately to hide something. Her smile had been clearly fake and she'd stumbled her goodbye without any flirty anecdotes.
Her smell was off, too. It was usually sweet and fresh - like the bakery after a long day of customers - but this time… it held a twinge of apprehension.
Had something happened to her? Was that the reason she was late? Or maybe he'd done something wrong? Gaspard wanted to follow her to see if she was alright, but the old lady had stopped him.
And then, of course, he'd ran into her again…
His cheeks blushed brightly. Kicking off his shoes, he let himself fall on the bed with a sigh.
As much as Gaspard had thought about the Expo girl since that fateful day, he'd never in his wildest imagination figured he'd meet her again. The mansion - all those rooms and decorations - proved just how much she was beyond his reach socially. He had already known she was part of the aristocracy, but - a hard pressure hit his stomach - she was a princess.
She really, truly was.
He couldn't help himself though.
Unthinkingly, he lifted his hand to brush against his mouth. Her lips had been soft, softer than he'd imagined. She was like a sleeping angel, curled in his arms. Just holding her had felt…what? Good? Great? What was a word to describe elated joy and dizziness and erratic heart beating bliss?
And her name… Solene… it reminded him of a cool breeze on the Seine or the quiet right after a long day at the bakery. Soft, peace, tranquility. She had been so worried about her servant, Marjoline. About saving her father and friends. So selfless and kind…
But did she know he'd kissed her? Had Solene - what a beautiful name! - realized that he woke her with it?
Could it have really been true love's kiss?
Coccinelle seemed happy to talk about fairy tales - though she scoffed at the thought of actually finding true love herself. What if… she had somehow sensed that he'd find his? That he'd needed to learn of Sleeping Beauty so that he would know what to do. Did Coccinelle get psychic abilities with her powers when she transformed? Maybe he could talk to her about it the next time he saw her. She was a girl, after all - and could probably give him some advice.
He scoffed at himself.
She'd probably laugh at him and his hopeless, one-sided infatuation. Solene was completely and utterly out of his league.
Raising his head, he glanced at his dark window again checking for a dash of red before rolling his eyes at his disappointment. It was silly to think Coccinelle would stop by. Why would she? She'd already gotten cookies earlier and she was just about to transform back after the akuma fight.
He remembered her fake smile as she left, the worried scent spreading from her. She obviously had other things on her mind besides him.
Though, on second thought, it would be hard to talk to her about what happened between him and Solene without giving himself away as Chat. Knowing her curiosity, she'd start asking too many questions. It wouldn't make sense if he spoke to her as Gaspard. Maybe he'd wait until he changed into Chat. He could talk to her then?
But she acted strange around him when he was transformed. Despite her incredible powers and intelligence, Coccinelle was a terrible flirt. She barely spoke sensibly when he was Gaspard! To talk to her about kissing another girl as Chat…? That was just a call for disaster. She would tease him mercilessly.
Maybe he could talk to her as Gaspard if he said it was another girl! Not mention Solene at all! Another girl that… woke up from a sleeping spell… and...
Gaspard turned on his side with a sour grumble and his green eyes flicked on the cheese chomping kwami.
The idea came so quickly, he spoke before he could stop himself.
"Hey, Plagg."
"What?" The kwami's droll tone was muffled by cheese.
"I have a question."
"Uh-huh."
"You've been around for a while now. You've had other people use your Miraculous."
"I thought we established this fact the first night I met you," the kwami mumbled sarcastically - a generous piece of cheese dangling over his mouth. "I've been around for a lot longer than 'awhile'."
Gaspard sighed. "I know, I know. Bad choice of words."
Plagg gobbled the camembert and swallowed it whole all the while his sharp green eyes blinked boredly at the blond.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is: I could use some advice."
"I'm going to stop you right there. Look, kid, you want advice, you're asking the wrong kwami. I may have been around the block historically speaking, but there's a ton I don't know - or care to know."
"But you must have experienced some-"
The black cat gave him a hard look and successfully cut his sentence off. "'Experienced', as you say, is a stupid misconception of wisdom. I am a kwami. I serve a purpose and then it's back into the Miraculous I go. I am not here to build life lessons and teach you how to grow up. I'm here to do a job."
"And eat cheese," Gaspard said with a bitter bite in his voice.
Plagg's ears lowered slightly and he took a small breath. Turning away from the camembert, he crossed his small legs to face Gaspard.
"Alright, that might have come out a little harsher than I wanted. Using the word 'experienced' is like saying I know this or that because I've had it happen before, right? But, in my understanding, that doesn't necessarily mean I'm wise. Just because I've encountered a certain situation doesn't make me a subject expert."
"I don't understand. How does that stop you from giving advice about it then?"
"Because there are thousands of ways one tiny situation could be changed or fixed or messed up. I've seen countless situations of love, hate, anger, jealousy. In different degrees. Handled in a multitude of ways. What worked out positive for some spiraled out of control for others. Some of which it cost lives. I know better than anyone that each situation is completely different from the other. Sure, there are definite similarities to circumstances, but…"
Plagg suddenly had a sad look, his ears drooping even further. "Just believe me when I say I don't give advice to my Chosen. Not anymore. There's a reason a black cat is considered unlucky."
"Plagg…" Gaspard whispered, a touch of concern slicing his heart. Reaching out, he gently petted a finger on the kwami's soft black head. His pointed ears flattening with annoyance, he begrudgingly let Gaspard keep petting him.
"Bah, don't get soft on me, kid. I'm just explaining so you'll understand. All the problems you have, you need to figure out on your own. That's part of becoming the person you are meant to be. If you don't make the mistakes and rely solely on other people's advice, how are you supposed to grow?"
"Maybe it could help me determine what to do," Gaspard suggested.
"Yes, but what if someone gives you advice and you decided to take it and it was bad advice? How will you learn to cope with the mistake?"
"It was my decision to make that mistake."
"But a part of you would blame whoever who told you to do it this way. It'd be partially their fault for suggesting it in the first place."
Plagg ducked under Gaspard's finger and turned back to his camembert with a snort. "Just remember this, kid. You were chosen to be the Black Cat's Welder for a reason. You harness the power of destruction. And with that, you gotta have smarts and intuition to make your own choices. Sure, listen to your partner and work together, but there will be times when you are on your own. You won't have Coccinelle to fall back on."
The kwami's comment hit a little too close to home. Gaspard remembered his thoughts just a few minutes ago: he'd been lost until Coccinelle had showed up. He'd almost been caught by the akuma.
"I've got to make my own decisions then. I guess I'll wait till I figure out what to do."
Plagg shot him a lazy smile.
"Despite being unlucky, us cats tend to have more wit than the rest. At least you have that going for you."
A thought crossed the kwami's face.
"By the way, aren't you supposed to be baking with your dad?"
"Merde!" Gaspard yelped, leaping off the bed.
Gaspard hadn't been in his room when Marcus went looking for him.
Dupain had cut the loaves without him, a frown of worry nicked on his forehead. Letting the loaves rise one last time before baking, he crossed his thick arms with a thoughtful sigh at the front counter. He could have sworn his son had gone upstairs after kneading. Maybe he'd stepped out while Marcus wasn't looking? But if that had happened, why didn't he say anything? Gaspard always let him know where he was going and why.
When Marcus had been younger, there were several young men of his acquaintance that became unruly as they got older. What was it called again? Rebellious stage? Was this what Gaspard was going through? Dupain had to admit his son had been acting more distant as of late. Maybe this was the cause?
The large man groaned and scratched the back of his head. Well, wherever Gaspard had gone off to, he hoped he'd be back soon. It was already nighttime.
The footsteps thundering down the stairs almost gave Marcus a heart attack. Twisting so quickly his apron tangled in his legs, the large man hobbled out of the front confectionary and into the back room. Sure enough, Gaspard's blond hair whisked into view.
"Papa, I-"
"Where have-"
They stopped, each regarding the other with mouths left open and words frozen on tongues. Clearing his throat, Dupain scratched the back of his neck and watched as his son mirrored his nervous habit.
"I'm so sorry, Papa. I lost track of time. Have you cut the loaves without me?"
"They are almost done rising. I could've used some help with the morning pasties, too." Dupain almost grimaced at the wince his son gave him. "Where were you earlier? I checked upstairs and you were gone."
"I-I-I had to take care of some stuff. I promise I'll be there for the next batch, Papa." Gaspard's lips curled into a nervous grin. "Do you have the cookie batter prepared? I can take care of that."
A forgiving smile brushed Dupain's mouth. "She's all yours."
Watching his son stroll past him with shoulders straight and hands rolling up sleeves, Marcus let go of a long sigh and bit back his tumbling questions.
Rebellious stage, huh?
The burn in his throat was rough and tight. A soft cry escaped his lips. Sitting in his office chair, a hot pressure built behind his clenched blue eyes.
She'd been his light. She'd kept his darkness at bay. But she was gone now. Gone forever. There were some days he still couldn't believe it. His lovely wife was here and then… dead. In his nightmares, he'd watched her die over and over - his cries unyielding and his pain unbearable. And, as she lay gasping for breath in his arms from a fall off the ledge or a terrible fever or a freak accident with the carriage, she always said the same thing: "She is a light, so let her shine."
And then Marjoline would be there, holding him in her old, strong arms and letting him cry on her shoulder. He'd forgotten that she had been there long ago when his wife had really passed. The old maid had felt the same loss as him. His wife had been her light, too.
And then it repeated with a new death for his wife, her mantra: "She is a light, so let her shine," crossing her dead lips, and Marjoline's comforting hug.
"She is a light, so let her shine…" A tear escaped his eye and he flicked it away impatiently with a finger. Taking a deep gulp of air, he turned to the sealed letter resting on this desk. The burgundy wax pressed with his insignia ring - House Montilyet. A toss of something strangely warm flickered inside him as he looked at the envelope.
"Be it Bourgeois, monsters, ghosts, or nightmares, Montilyets will stand strong," he whispered to himself. Reaching over, he grabbed the letter and ripped it into twos, then fourths before setting the scraps on his desk. Standing, he made sure he was composed before opening the door and heading to his bedroom chambers.
The moonlight shimmered through the long rectangle window to illuminate one small sentence at the top of the scrap pile.
'-advertisement for a new maid-'
