Claude kicked the door open with his foot as he carried Esmeralda into the hallway. He wasn't even in the slightest mood to be romantic, but Esmeralda had even worse trouble walking in the giant surcoat than in her red dress and darkness and drowsiness were making her worse. He wondered why he even had the door. The goat, which he waited in the doorway for to charge past in order to keep from tripping on, always wanted to go back and forth through it, it didn't deter Phoebus in the slightest, and now he thought it was inconvenient.
'Well,' he figured, 'I'm already this far, and setting her down now is just going to start her up again.' He carried her into the bedroom and set her carefully on the bed, almost falling on her.
She smiled up at him and brushed a hand over his hair.
He took her hand in his and pulled it away. "I have to go retrieve Gaetan. I will return shortly. Get the goat off the dresser before it breaks something."
He picked himself up and left.
Esmeralda leaned back on the bed. A pillow fell on her face as she sank into the mattress. "You could at least pretend to be upset."
………….
Phoebus had left to wake Gaetan up for Frollo to bring her back to his house, but she was already dressed when he arrived.
He had intended to wait with her outside the hotel with her, but he fell asleep again. She nudged him with a very sharp elbow as she spied Frollo approaching. Phoebus wondered why she bothered, for Frollo just waved him away and gave him an order to get some sleep. For the first time, Phoebus didn't care as Frollo put his arm on Gaetan's back and led her away. She came to him to believe in fantasies and she was going back to Frollo to be in the real world. If he was going to feed her lies, at least she'd enjoy them; she deserved that much after all that had happened.
If Frollo told Gaetan any lies, it wasn't his intention. Not yet, at least. Not about Esmeralda, for the woman would immediately expose any falsities and he'd not only lose his chance at the Court of Miracles, but his only chance to regain his life as his own.
She pressed up close to him, afraid that if she lost the touch of his gown he'd be too far away to save her again and the very shadows would attack and drag her away, this time for good.
"Gaetan, do you remember the woman I was with, Esmeralda?" he asked.
She pressed up closer, seeking protection from the mention of a gypsy. She wished she had her weapons with her.
"At first I vowed to do to her whatever they did to you and I was prepared to kill her immediately at the news of your death. But I could not do to her what they did to you. I gave her a choice: she and every gypsy I find pays for what they have done, or she becomes mine and lives under my control and I spare whoever you tell me is guiltless of what was done to you, if there exists any but her," he said. "She is an innocent gypsy, something I never thought even God Himself could create. She chose to live. Do you understand?"
"How can you be certain?" she asked. Just when she believed him about gypsies, he changed his mind. That was how Phoebus thought, and Phoebus didn't believe the world worked the way it did. She wanted to go somewhere safe, somewhere gypsies would be chased away with blades and torches.
What could he say that could convince her? That she never killed him while he played servant to her? That she cried at Gaetan's abduction or promised him she'd be good or maybe that she had yet to do anything to justify arrest? Technically, she should be arrested, for her distracting him was all the evidence he needed to have her hanging by the neck on a rope in the square. "Because even though you are hers to command, both she and every one of her people die if she even touches either of us wrong and she will watch every single one of them meet their fate at the hands of the executioner before it is her turn to join them. I have found a way that she will meet a fate worse that what you have suffered if she goes against me. I know I cannot change what they did to you and I doubt you believe I can even understand, but I will not let her distract me from your safety again. Remember what you hold over her that she can never take away with any lies or threats: it all depends on you to tell me if any of her friends are innocent along with her; it is your word only, and I trust that whatever you say will bring about justice."
"I don't like her, master."
"You don't have to," he said, pulling her closer. "I do not like her. But I own her. That is what is important." Yes, that was what was important. That was all he was meant to care about. He had no idea how to drive his childish longing away, for it had no place there. He was turning into Phoebus. 'Dear Lord,' he thought. 'what Hell would that man give him if he knew?'
……………………
Esmeralda did not go to bed. She was hopeful that she could use Gaetan to convince Frollo into being a fun little toy again. If the kid was around to do things for her, she should put it to good use, even if she couldn't order her to make Frollo fun to play with the way she liked outright. She had obediently moved Djali out of the bedroom and waited for him in the hall.
To her it had been a long time since he had left and she wondered about it. She'd never been lonely with Djali around before. Still, true to his word, he returned very soon with Gaetan, who timidly pressed close to him.
"Hi there," Esmeralda said, keeping her distance, but bending down to be closer to Gaetan's height. "I'm Esmeralda."
"I know you're name," Gaetan spat.
Esmeralda looked at Frollo for help, but he seemed to be oblivious to everything and paid attention only to taking off his cloak and decorative dagger. "This is Djali, you want to pet him?" Esmeralda asked, picking up the goat, which had fallen asleep in the corner and was now struggling out of confusion.
"That's a doe," Gaetan said flatly, pointing at the goat's hind legs.
Djali looked embarrassed.
Esmeralda forced herself to smile. "I got him when he was a kid. I called him a him and I was too used to it when he grew up to call him anything else."
Gaetan stayed where she was by the door.
"I said pet the goat," Esmeralda said angrily.
"Do what she says," Claude muttered, intentionally taking his time to undo the buckle on the dagger holding the belt.
Esmeralda shooed Djali in Gaetan's direction and Gaetan bent down to pet the goat, who looked back and wondered why he hadn't been allowed to eat the Ivy off Esmeralda's hair yet.
Gaetan squatted on the floor, ready to leap up at any moment and stroked the goat. Neither of them felt any difference between Gaetan's hands going over the goat's ear or her horns. Djali settled down on the floor, wondering if Gaetan was going to feed her as well while Gaetan kept her gaze fixed on Esmeralda, who walked over to her.
"He…she really likes it when you scratch him right—" Esmeralda started, uncomfortable addressing her female goat in the female pronoun; it just didn't fit somehow. Esmeralda took Gaetan's hand, but before she could put it on the goat's neck, the girl shrieked and shot backwards.
"What happened?" Claude asked immediately.
Esmeralda froze and Djali jumped into her lap for protection.
Gaetan fell back and held onto her hand as if she had been badly burned. Her lower lip trembled and as much as she had fought back the urge to cry all this time, she couldn't stop herself now. Slowly she crumbled into sobs and fell helpless on the floor. She thought she'd seen the last of gypsies. She thought she'd run away to freedom, but gypsies had found their way here of all places. They had taken everything from her. Esmeralda wouldn't suffer worse than her, she'd just suffer the same thing. In fact, Esmeralda hadn't suffered what she had. Esmeralda would win. The gypsies would win no matter what.
Someone pulled her to her feet and she almost screamed at the woman to release her, but it was not Esmeralda but Frollo who held her. "I'm sorry," she said. The words were barely a whisper as they were choked past tears. Suddenly she was too afraid to cry, and too angry. She wasn't supposed to have her problems tangled up his. She had her own time to have her own life and now wasn't it. She'd never gone against that rule before, but she was sure this transgression was completely uncalled for and would be seen as wholly ungrateful after everything he'd done and risked for her. She was sure she would be punished, and in front of a gypsy no less, and there was nothing she could do about it.
"Did she hurt you?" he asked, turning to mockingly scold Esmeralda. At the very least, he could have an excuse to feel angry at her.
"No, master," Gaetan squeaked. "I… she's a gypsy. I'm sorry, I won't—"
"That is perfectly understandable," he said, leading her to the chair. "After what has happened, even she must frighten you." He put one hand under her chin and brushed her hair from her eyes with the other. "But she is not the one who hurt you. She is not responsible; it was all an accident for her as well. The ones who hurt you are far away in their Court of Miracles and I do not know where that is. If I only knew where it was, I would already be there to find out who has dared do such a thing to you." He sat down on the chair and silenced Gaetan with his finger as she tried to say something further. He pulled her onto his lap and was thankful she barely weighed anything. "Don't," he said, rubbing her back slowly as she cried against his chest. "Don't say anything. Tell me later."
It was an age old technique, one he'd used several times on Quasimodo when the boy was much younger. Out of the corner of his eye, he realized he'd inadvertently found a way to use it on two people. Esmeralda was standing forlornly to the side, ashamed at scaring the kid and jealous of the attention at the same time.
He was finally going to have his Court of Miracles.
………………
Gaetan fell asleep almost immediately. Why couldn't he just have this child to take care of? She took orders, she made herself part of the furniture, and she was smart while easily manipulatable.
Claude put her on her bed, almost dumping her there. As much as he preferred her over Phoebus or Esmeralda, or even the goat, she was still an apprentice. Besides, she was asleep. If she really cared, she could wake up and tuck herself in.
Esmeralda had followed him into the bedroom. "What now?" she asked.
"Now I'm going to sleep," he said. "I have work tomorrow. You are going to do more or less whatever you want." She could set the house on fire if she wanted. It would be a bad move and would result in other people being set on fire, but if he could help it, Phoebus could deal with it instead.
He pulled his clothes off and tossed them to the floor, kicking them in a corner. There were two women around now, one of them could pick them up. He threw on his nightshirt and knelt down and prayed, not just out of protocol, but in thanks that there would be no more unpleasant surprises.
Either God had gone to sleep before him and wasn't listening, or thought he was the most amusing thing since inventing different types of annoying insects, because he was immediately grabbed by his sleeve and awkwardly pulled halfway onto the bed through the closed curtains.
"Esmeralda, I know it's traditional, but can this wait a few hours?" he asked. "You…certainly don't seem to like the concept of clothes, do you?" As much as the idea of consummating his wedding night was looking more and more tempting, so was his pillow, and he knew what to do with that. It also hadn't asked for a million things for the last two weeks.
He pulled himself onto the bed fully, only for her to yank him closer and set him on her lap. "Esmeralda, what do you want?" He was very sure that this wasn't how things started.
"Shh," she whispered, and hugged him. "Don't talk."
'Wonderful,' he thought. 'I've married a monkey.' Gaetan had truly suffered something. She was a grown up, even if she hadn't mastered the 'up' part very well. Why, then, did he feel like he was being treated like a baby? Gaetan was going to get on a horse and stab people but he was sure that wasn't what Esmeralda wanted out of all of this. What did she expect him to do, suck his thumb?
"Esmeralda, I'm tired and this is embarrassing." If Phoebus went through this, then he not only earned the right to drink trash, but he could drink tar for all Frollo cared. That man could not be going through anything close to this.
"You're scared, though," she said.
"I am not scared," he said.
"You're scared of God," she said.
"Yes, but I'm supposed to be scared of God," he said. Didn't he go over this? There was a giant book about all this and he'd read the entire thing to her and very carefully went over the meaning of all the pieces. "Everyone is supposed to be scared of God. The last person who wasn't was nailed to two pieces of wood by other people who weren't afraid of God."
"You're not comfortable," she said.
"Esmeralda, I was nearly killed, and I have spent the last two weeks taking care of people ranging from two men who are supposed to be in charge of the safety of all the people in Paris physically and spiritually despite not being able to count to three on the first try, the loudest and wettest baby I have ever known, and someone who holds a spoon and a pen the same way and has broken one of each, I am taking care of a violated woman barely a decade old, I have to arrest and silence over a thousand people responsible and I have just married the one, single person who is both innocent of all of this and yet was the very person to make it all happen. Why, Esmeralda, do you think I am uncomfortable at the moment?"
"You're not happy," Esmeralda continued, determined to get her wording right.
'Wonderful,' he thought. 'I've married a monkey with the speech skills of Phoebus.'
She figured out to cut him off before he could explain, this time. "We're supposed to both make each other happy," she said. "If you make me happy, I promise to make you happy."
By her words, he already knew what would make her happy, but she didn't think it was what he wanted from her… or at least it wasn't on the top of his list of priorities long-term.
"And what if I said it would make me happy if you did the laundry and left me alone?" he asked.
"I can leave you alone the rest of the time," she said. "And you're going to get me a horse."
"You have to learn to ride it first."
"That's fine," she said, kissing his cheek and smiling as he tried too late to pull away. She had her toy back. That was all she wanted… wasn't it? 'Close enough,' she figured. "I heard it's just like—"
"Esmeralda, it had better not be!" Claude said. "Now let go of me and put some clothes on if you're cold."
"But I don't mind and God doesn't anymore now that we're married." She was partially true. The Bible did say there was nothing wrong with coveting your own wife, but it also said any sort of lust was a great sin. Apparently this was one of those pick-and-choose situations, like women in pants.
First it says a women shouldn't do anything men did and then Deborah is a judge and rides out with a king into battle, Yael splatters a man's brains everywhere, and Esther starts telling a man what to think. If women weren't supposed to be dangerous, why were men giving them sharp objects like knives and needles or putting them in kitchens full of blunt objects like brooms and pans around fire? Handing one a dagger was hardly different. Besides, God had made her good at it, so who was he to argue?
"I mind," he said.
"You'll get used to it," Esmeralda said, kissing him again and pulling the covers over herself as she moved away from him. "Someday."
………………..
Claude woke up later than usual, but paid little attention to it. The captain could take over babysitting the city for a few hours. Maybe he'd learn how to tie his shoe along with the rest of children in Paris. Claude was determined to sleep through shouting, bleating, and other noises, and didn't care who he was shoving out of his way as he prepared for the day or what they were carrying or even what they were doing with it. However, after finding Gaetan trying to fend Esmeralda off with the rosary while the older woman insulted her in Spanish, Frollo felt he had to get involved before something of his was damaged in the squabble.
He took both of them by the wrists and dragged them out to the hall.
"This is my house and I am unpleasant and armed and I liked being that way a lot more than either of you," he said. "Now you are answerable to me," he yelled, pointing to Esmeralda. "and you are answerable to her!" he yelled, pointing to Gaetan. "I never told either of you to like each other, and I honestly don't care if you ever do. Regardless, I want both—" He stopped, picked up Djali from out of the chair and pushed the confused goat into Esmeralda's arms. "I want all three of you to act civilly or someone is going to jail. I am going out and I expect the chores done when I get back. This means I want no weapons used in the house without just cause," he said the Gaetan. "no teaching anyone Spanish," he said to Esmeralda. "and no pets on the furniture," he said to Djali, who stuck her tongue out at him. "I will return for Gaetan." He still had to keep Gaetan on his side, though, and still have her act obediently. He addressed Esmeralda before he left. "I will return as soon as I can for Gaetan. I must go and deal with a few messes I still have to clean up thanks to you. You are not to touch her while I am out. Keep both of those in mind while I am gone." If he was going to have to handle children, he was going to pit them against each other to get what he wanted out of them.
…………………
Esmeralda had been the one doing all the shouting, and Djali had been responsible for the loud bleating and knocking most of the dishes from the table in trying to back her up in the one-sided argument of trying to yell at Gaetan to start getting along with her. In retrospect, it was probably not the best strategy to win the girl over.
Gaetan had started on cleaning up the table, a chore she'd been chased away from by the goat and didn't want to tend to with the gypsy so close. As Esmeralda sat in the chair, Gaetan did her best to keep out of arms' reach of her while she wiped up spilled food from the table and the floor and picked up dishes and utensils.
"Fine," Esmeralda scolded. "I can't figure out what to do, you tell me."
"That's your job," Gaetan said. "You tell me what to do and I do it until he comes back, then I listen to both of you."
Esmeralda was tempted right then and there to order Gaetan to be her friend, but decided against it. "Just don't call me 'mother,'" Esmeralda said.
"You're not my mother; you're my mistress," Gaetan said.
"Don't call me that, either. I don't even want Claude calling me that," Esmeralda said. "If I can tell you what to do, then I want you to stop looking at me like that!"
Gaetan turned her face from Esmeralda's view.
Esmeralda was sure the kid still had a disgusted scowl on her face. Had she always been so bad at wording things? No wonder Claude was having a hard time. "Claude said your mother was widowed when your father died in the war and then he took you in. Is that true? I mean, he also said you were a boy, so if that's not true, then, well, what else isn't?"
"My parents weren't married," Gaetan said. She took the pile of dishes and left out the door with them to give them to the cook. Technically she didn't lie. Frollo had taken her in, but as an apprentice, which was different from a daughter or son. He never bought her from her mother and her mother didn't even know where she was, but Esmeralda hadn't mentioned any of that. For all she and her mother knew, her father was dead and if he ever did show up, her mother would fix that immediately and would be proud of it. Besides, who was Esmeralda to judge any of her life or decisions, even if she was in charge?
Gaetan returned and walked into the bedroom, slamming the door on Esmeralda as she held her goat up to be petted again.
Esmeralda set Djali on the floor and went into the bedroom. Claude could ignore her, but Claude was going to give her something very, very enjoyable in the time he was going to spend with her and Gaetan not only didn't have such an agreement, but wasn't going to. Ever. Gaetan was not allowed to ignore her.
Gaetan soon began folding up the laundry she had abandoned in her attempt to make Esmeralda back off by using the rosary.
Esmeralda quietly tied up the curtains on the bed as she watched Gaetan work. Esmeralda had always lived alone and save for cooking, took care of herself. She was good at doing laundry, but she had never learned how to fold anything and settled for throwing her few clothes in a pile and telling Djali not to eat them—that lesson had taken a few tries. "Teach me how to do that," she said.
Gaetan paused and looked up at Esmeralda, who put her hands on her hips and glared. She was no Frollo, but she was married to him and that was apparently good enough for his apprentice, so she was going to use that to her advantage.
Silently, Gaetan handed Esmeralda one of Frollo's gowns and held up the one she was folding and slowly demonstrated for Esmeralda to follow, adjusting her mistress's mistakes without saying a word.
"Will my dresses go in the same drawers as his?" Esmeralda asked, setting the gown neatly in the drawer Gaetan used.
Gaetan shrugged.
Esmeralda looked around the room. The kid's past wasn't much of a conversation starter, and neither were her chores. Djali might be able to win her over, but not until Gaetan calmed down. "Are any of those books storybooks?" Esmeralda asked. She really didn't see why books wouldn't be storybooks, and refused to believe that there were so many non-stories that were made into books.
Gaetan looked over at the bookshelf. All the books were about law and scripture or history or fighitng. Some were about old cases, nearly all of them ending with someone executed. "There's The Bible," she said.
"I don't like those stories, the plot needs help in a lot of them," Esmeralda said. Claude had told her several times that The Bible was not about entertainment and after Genesis she agreed with him. It was about being bored and punished. No wonder he was so unhappy, God told him he couldn't enjoy anything. Smiling too much was probably against The Bible.
'There should be storybooks,' Esmeralda decided. If she ever learned to read, she was going to make Claude sit down and she was going to read him some real stories. They may not ask you to eat crackers Djali would spit out or drink wine that really did taste like someone died, but he was going to listen and she was going to have some decent stories.
She couldn't very well send Gaetan out alone to get her a storybook, and even if dragging the kid outside to go shopping with her didn't send the kid running to the kitchen to grab a knife, Claude expected to find her at the house when he returned and Esmeralda had no idea when that was. She couldn't very well go out on her own, now could she…? As a matter of fact, yes she could. She couldn't go anywhere before, even when she wasn't locked up, but she was married now. There was no promise that she'd return after being out for more than a few minutes, but now there was. "I'm going out. If he returns before I do, tell him I promise to be back before dinner."
Esmeralda threw her shoes on, which she hadn't used much in the house and so still wasn't used to and grabbed some money when Gaetan wasn't looking.
Claude hadn't hid his money since the first week Gaetan had worked under him. When she was official, she wasn't just trustworthy as an apprentice and could be sent on errands with it, but she'd lose everything if she stole from him and he did n't think she was that stupid. Esmeralda had been locked away and stealing from him would be a good reason to kill her where she stood, not to mention he hadn't thought of it. She also preferred when he did the shopping for her, even when he brought back surprises. Claudes' money stayed where it was as disasters came and went and it was one of the least of his problems.
Claude had packed the dress she wore at the wedding away and hadn't bought her anything new. She had talked to the archdeacon though, and he had mentioned that it was traditional for women to cover their hair, especially after marriage. She took off her sash and tied her hair up under it as best she could. And to think this whole catholic thing seemed so backwards and silly; at least they had a few practices that weren't barbaric.
"Come on Djali," she said, walking into the hall. That kid was going to get along or else.