Renee drifted into unconsciousness. And then back out again. Repeat this process a few more times. She was barely staying awake as it was, but she knew her life depended on her being alert. There was nothing in this tiny cell but her own heartbeat. At times, she hit the iron bars with her knuckles, just to hear something different, to make a tune. Then the futility of it all hit the young woman. She could imagine music all she wanted, but these walls weren't crumbling any century soon, magic or not.
Her mind went into overdrive. Where was Quasi? Was he safe? He won't find her, Jehan had made that perfectly clear. Not until he wanted the bell ringer to find her. So, here she was, trapped in a prison cell with no window, no chair, no table, not even a bed. Not even one thing that might bring her comfort. Renee only had her own insistence for comfort. Whatever crime she'd committed, would Jehan even give her a trial? Or would they, having seemingly abandoned the last of their humanity, settle for a rather violent and bloody death of ripping her to shreds? Or burning? Despair crept over her. This couldn't happen to her. Could it?
"What a hovel this is," Renee growled, her fear surfacing in the form of an emotion she was more at ease with: sarcasm and anger. The prisoners could never escape their own conscious thoughts. They haunt and yell, scream in the back of their minds, until they blurred together and mixed, leaving the people who had been in this cell before her to rip out their own hair, all for relief. Imprisonment left you with yourself. Alone with just you for company, and that's when the other part of you would start to speak, blathering, arguing with your own thoughts, screaming for attention. And that's when prison would break you, leaving you to break yourself. Until there was no more of your soul, what made you you. All that remained was a shell, a hollow one, without life, without spirit. Sort of like the Dementor's Kiss in Harry Potter, Renee thought wildly, and if such a fate was to be what Jehan had in mind for her, if that was her future, then—
The sound of the horrible cell door creaking open startled her awake, causing her to bolt upright faster than she would have liked, sending her mind reeling and black spots danced in front of her line of sight. This was to be what, her third beating? Fourth? To be honest, after the first couple, she kind of lost count after she refused to tell Jehan a damn thing of Quasi's life and how to ensure the man followed Frollo's demands and passed out for about an hour.
Glancing down at her bare and slightly bloodied feet, she stared. "What the hell?" she murmured darkly, as she was violently wrenched to her feet by an unknown man, one of Jehan's men. She was dressed in a flowing beautiful gown, a garment that no money could buy, and no amount of skill could craft such a beautiful thing, but clearly someone somewhere had. The man glaring at her barked something inaudible, yanking her forward roughly by the bound pair of manacles on her wrists. "Isn't this all a bit...medieval?" snapped Renee to her captor, desperate to keep him talking, stalling, anything until help arrived. "We're a society, aren't we? This is a bit much," she whisper-hissed, lifting her wrists and showing the guard her chains. "Chains? Really?" she growled. "Why doesn't your leader just kill me, then?"
To that, the man laughed, and it sent a tremor of fear down her spine, but she bit it back. "Oh, sweet thing, he doesn't want to kill you, pet. Far from it, sweetheart. I'd hate to ruin the surprise. You'll see." The wolfish grin baring white canines at her did nothing to calm Renee' nerves. One glance at her reflection in a nearby mirror as they passed was more than enough for her.
The hues of her golden blonde pixie had dulled slightly, matted and tangled with congealed blood. She'd used a spare shard of broken glass to cut it the shortest she'd ever had it in her life, as a last ditch effort to prevent Jehan or any of his lackeys from grabbing it if they were of a mind to do so, and judging by the look in this one's eyes, she did not doubt that they would try before the night was out. She glanced down at the unfamiliar dress she wore and froze. One slight move of her leg revealed the leg slit in front. "The hell? Does your boss have a crush on me or what?" she snarled, unable to stop her temper from flaring, and she knew by the look in the man's eyes that she had, once again, taken it a step too far. He backhanded her, the loud echoing sound of his slap lingering in the corridor.
"Make one more sound, witch," he hissed. "And I'll snap your neck. See if I'm joking," the young guard snarled. "You might have been able to get away with talking back in other places with other people," he added darkly, a brief flicker of something akin to sympathy flashing through the man's brown eyes. "But here, it is very different. Here, if you speak out in turn against Jehan, he will kill you, and you won't like how he does. We're still keeping up the remains from the last one that dared to speak out against him, so please…for our sake, shut the hell up and stay quiet, you hear?"
Renee mutely nodded, instantly regretting her little outburst. "What's your name?" she asked, doing her best to ignore the sadness that sat below her face, remaining dry, her expression impassive. She would not give her captors the satisfaction of seeing her upset like this. She knew that if she even let a fraction out, then the rest that would follow a never-ending torment of grief and fear. These people, these creatures, took her. Renee did not know what they wanted with her specifically, but they weren't her friends. These men of Jehan Frollo's had long since abandoned their sense of humanity. It was their eyes that gave away what they truly were.
Cold and lifeless. Evil. Except this one, her voice advised her, though Renee still harbored a twinge of caution toward this one. The man, if she could even call him that, didn't look a day older than twenty-six. Young, just like her, and the way his brown eyes shifted nervously around the hallway, Renee' training kicked in. He was nervous. The man before her leading the way was handsome enough, she supposed, with a thick tuft of dark brown hair and brilliant green eyes.
"You can relax," he growled. "I won't harm you, milady."
Renee was unable to bite back her retort. "Oh. How endearing. The monster feels. How charming." The young woman knew she was being kind of a jerk to him, and he probably didn't deserve it. "How can I relax?" she demanded angrily, taking a deep breath and willed the shaking her voice to still. Don't let them see your fear, girl, Alice's advice rang in her ears. "You've kidnapped me here against my will, which, by the way, is illegal! People know that I'm here, and you and Jehan are going to regret it!" Renee bellowed.
"Didn't you know?" the dark-haired stranger drawled, almost sounding bored as he stopped at the end of the hallway and opened up a door, dragging a chair in the corner across the room to sit it, observing the young woman with the golden blonde pixie cut with amusement. He absentmindedly began picking at his nail cuticles.
"Know what?" snapped Renee, who, against her better judgement, took a seat as the young guard gestured for her to take a seat.
"Master Frollo has no rules," snarled the young werewolf.
Her blood turned to ice. It was a phrase Quasi spoke of often when he told her stories of how Claude raised him, how the man operated.
"You know Quasi?" Renee found herself asking, feeling dumbfounded and perhaps for the first time in her adult life, she was at a complete loss for words. But to her surprise, the young man shook his head, still silently observing the young woman, interested.
"Not personally, no. But we've been…shall we say, keeping tabs on him. And you," the young man added dryly, fixing the young blonde with an ice-cold stare, his blue eyes, his expression utterly blank.
"Why?" Renee challenged hotly, tugging on the skirts of her dress and flashed a little bit of leg. If it was seductive the brutes wanted, then they would get it if it meant she would stay alive that much longer until help arrived. "And what's with this?" she demanded, gesturing to the dress. "What did you do with my clothes?" she asked, feeling the familiar pang of fear prick her heart.
"They're safe," the young man chuckled. "Master takes good care of his women, milady," the kid added lightly, the beginning of dare, she thinks it, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Don't remember me?"
Her brain stuttered for a moment, and her gray eyes took in more light than expected. Every part of her went on pause while her thoughts struggled to catch up. He stepped forward into the light, and then it hit Renee. The young man with the scars all over his body, she had saved his life when she found him passed out and had taken him to Ashan, the cathedral healing maester. "You," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know you; I remember you. It's…Dax, isn't it?"
He nodded, a small smile forming. "Good memory. I am…grateful to you for saving my life." At that his smile faltered, "I only wish that I could help you, but once Master makes up his mind…" The man called Dax shuddered. "Master won't change his mind, I'm afraid. Y—your wedding happens in a fortnight, milady, so you must be prepared. Soon as he kills this bell ringer of yours, he fully intends to take you for himself."
"What?" is all she could manage to squeak out weakly. "That's—that's Jehan's master plan?"
"It's rather brilliant, isn't it?" came Jehan's baritone, cold voice from the doorway, startling Renee and the young guard. Noticing his comrade sitting in his chair, he let out a low warning growl. "Dax, I told you to go back to your post," he snarled. He closed off the gap of space between himself and the much younger man until the tip of his nose was practically touching.
So that's his name, Renee thought wildly, as the young man bolted to his feet. "Yes, Master," he managed in barely a whisper.
"He used to be one of your kind, you know," Jehan added, his voice coming out gruffer than perhaps he would have liked. "A heathen man. But he's not a sorcerer anymore. He tried to steal from us. I punished him for it," he sneered, his lips curling into a wicked sneer.
The young man called Dax flinched, but didn't turn his back.
"Yes, Master," he mumbled, sheepishly looking toward the floor.
"He's not a king's soldier anymore. He's one of us now," Jehan grinned, a note of pride in his voice. "Aren't you, Dax?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," repeated Dax, sounding absolutely terrified.
Jehan nodded, irritably waving away the young boy with a wave of his hand. "Get out," he snarled, no warmth in his tone. He waited until the young soldier called Dax fled the room, but not before Dax chanced a brief glance backward over his shoulder, and if Renee wasn't mistaken, something akin to sympathy flashed through his green orbs, but as quickly as it had crossed his features, it was gone. Jehan regarded Renee in silence for a moment. The man rolled his eyes as he sat in the chair the young one had just vacated. Renee could practically feel her pale face draining of color until it was ashen and clammy. She winced and let out a startled cry
"For your own good, girl," Jehan stated calmly, ignoring the young girl's protests. "So, you and I can have a friendly little conversation before he gets here. Oh, yes," he added, the beginnings of a genuine smile creeping onto his face. Renee didn't know which unnerved her more: the glee in his voice or the smile on his face. "I know he's coming for you. And you're going to let him. And then…he and I will have a little chat." Jehan paused, his dark eyes drifting downwards towards her dress. He grinned, no warmth in his smile and ran his fingernails up her leg, eliciting a terrified shiver out of Renee. "You're an excellent liar, Milady Renee," he said to her, a note of something in his deep tone, but she could not quite place what that tone was. "So typical of your kind to twist the truth, cloud our minds..."
Intrigue? Lust? Hatred? She had no clue, and quite frankly, she did not want to know at this point. "Ah," he replied silkily with some form of amusement in his voice now, his tones smooth, melodious, and rich, as he snaked an overly long fingernail up her leg, feeling the smooth pale skin against his own. "I can see it in your eyes. There's that look," Jehan complimented, silently praising the young woman for the fact that her gaze had turned to a cold steel, rivaling that of a perfectly polished suit of armor, never once backing down from his, her gaze unwavering and unabashed.
Despite Renee's involuntary reaction to his surprisingly gentle touch, despite her hatred for the youngest Frollo brother in front of her, she could feel the heat beginning to pool between her legs, a fact that she hated.
It was at least a day last since she was near Quasimodo, and to say that she missed him was an understatement. She just wanted to be with him, to be home back in his bell tower, in his arms, where she belonged.
"What are you doing?" Renee hissed through gritted teeth, wanting so desperately to spit in this monster's face. "Get off me!"
Jehan grinned, the shadow of the beast upon his face, but he did not obey her demands. "You're trying to remember your training, aren't you?" he chuckled, running his claws up along her leg, the tips of his fingers wandering upwards, barely grazing Renee's jawline and the curve of her ear. He cupped her chin in his hand, tilting her head to the side, seemingly studying her looks. He lifted a lock of her blonde hair and tenderly fingered it. "What's the training to cover this?" he mocked, that horrible smile still etched upon his face.
Renee shot what she hoped was a charming smile, one meant to throw him off. "What makes you think this is my first time?"
"The witch still has fire in her, I like that," he taunted. Jehan kicked the chair he'd been occupying even closer towards her. "It's not. Do you know why I brought you here, witch?" he asked.
Renee could sense no maliciousness in his tone, and she wasn't sure she liked that. She would have preferred the screaming, howling, for him to fly off into a rage, to just do whatever he was going to do to her and go to hell. Anything but this dangerous quietness that he was currently exhibiting. "No," she whispered.
"I brought you here, little thing, because you've captured my attention. "You're a witch, aren't you? I saw you fall from the sky the night you arrived, like a fallen angel. And…it must be why you have placed me under your spell." Here, Jehan spat her title as though it were poison on his tongue. "You are an incredibly gifted and talented young witch. And you have bewitched me, and therefore, you will be mine."
She didn't anticipate his next question; it caught her off-guard.
"Why?" No hint of malice or hatred. Just pure curiosity.
"Quasi makes me laugh," Renee answered before she could stop herself. "And he's handsome, at least I think so. Despite his deformities, they aren't so bad as he and everyone else makes them out to be. He accepts me for who I am, not for who everyone else wants me to be. He loves me for the way I am, not my looks. That's enough for me."
"I see," Jehan muttered, sounding like he was growing lost in thought. "When the final days of your accursed kind comes for you, your people will come out in droves to plead their innocence. I've seen it before," he added, noting Renee's horrified, confused stare.
"What?" Renee had to stop her fists from shaking. "I—I don't understand," she said at last, hating the fear in her voice. "Why?"
Jehan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he were getting a splitting headache. "Say what you want of witches. Because extermination of a species is an unpleasant business, Renee, and even more so when the dominant species is sentient. We've been studying witch burnings for years, given your kind plagues our great city," he growled, the slightest traces of bitterness in his tone. "Your kind, you have no rules, and I'm sure you know," he snarled, his dark eyes flashing, narrowing to mere slits. "You treat us like we're the very scum of the earth." Renee froze.
He drew in a deep breath to calm himself, closing his eyes, breathing through his nostrils. It would not do to cause a scene.
"The laws have to be applied. Including our own. Renee, may I call you that?" he asked Renee, suddenly curious now.
Renee sighed, blowing a stray strand of blonde hair out of her eye and huffed in frustration, straining against her rope restraints. "I guess so. At this stage of the game, what harm can it do? Call me whatever."
Jehan nodded. "Good. Renee, then. Get dressed."
She flinched, struggling to rise to her feet. The aching in her skull ebbed and flowed like a cold tide, yet the pain is always there. Renee understand at once why the people called it a hangover, for it felt as if the blackest of clouds were over her head with no intention of clearing until late afternoon.
Without another word, he tossed her a carefully wrapped package. Shooting the lord a dark glower, not trusting this at all, she unwrapped it. In her hands was perhaps the most gorgeous garment she'd ever seen. "Put it on," came the command, curt and emotionless. "Now," he said. Not wanting to anger the man any further, given where she was, she obliged, changing quickly.
"You've got to be kidding me," Renee muttered darkly under her breath as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. "How did I get here?" she demanded.
"I brought you," Jehan answered, a note of pride in his voice.
"Where's Quasi?" Renee demanded. "What have you done?"
"He's safe. He's waiting for you up there," the young lord smirked, leaving her alone in the shadows. "I wouldn't keep your intended waiting, dear." Begrudgingly, she gave a curt nod, dressing quickly. She had been unable to think straight all morning. Not willing to eat much, she'd only succeeded in breaking the heavily laden breakfast tray that Dax had brought her earlier today.
Dax is the Watcher. He must have knocked us both out and brought here. This is Jehan's doing. You wanted me. So here I am, Jehan, she thought bitterly. I'm yours to do with whatever you see fit.
Renee let out a tiny squeak as Dax unwound her bindings around her wrists, grabbed her roughly by the arm, and proceeded to drag her upstairs and into a hallway. Renee had never seen the Palace of Justice so crowded, and the Frollo's had been well known for their ability to throw a lavish party, especially Jehan, the brute. At least, that's what Alice told her.
She chanced a glance at the great hall and cringed.
So many people, she thought, panicked. Oh, God… Frowning, she slipped into the red gown Jehan had his dressmaker create especially for her twenty-fourth name day tonight with great ease. Her brow furrowed, even she had to admit that Jehan had good taste in clothing.
The gown was a brilliant dark red wine color, made in chiffon; the bodice featured a sweetheart neckline and symmetrical pleated feature, forming the V shape of the waistline, which emphasized her slim silhouette. The dress's fluted chiffon sleeves were fitted to the elbow, then opened out to a thin delicate trail, finished with a string of beautiful crystal beads and pearls hanging just under the strap. When she twirled, the skirts of her gown flowed effortlessly with her movements. The bodice and skirt were decorated with embroidered motifs and ivy leaves sewn on with crystal beading and pearls, creating depth and texture against the close-fitting cut of the dress. The dress had lacing in the back and a slight train.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, hoping he didn't hear. Renee ran a hand through her freshly cut blonde pixie, smoothing it, and dabbing at her neck with lavender and jasmine to soothe her nerves.
"Of course, it is, pet, red's my favorite color on you. Brings out your blonde hair and your eyes," spoke up Jehan quietly from the corner.
Damn it, she cursed under her breath and whirled around, doing her best not to show her fear. As he advanced on her, all the reasons not to do this came flooding in, as if her body just sent them a blanket invitation. Renee felt the soft panic that could grow or fade, depending on what she does next. It would fade if she backed away if she ran from the Palace of Justice and from Jehan and never looked back, but then he would kill Quasi and her and her efforts will have been in vain. It will grow if she let these thoughts swirl into a vortex of terror and stupidity, unable to escape it or deny what she feels. Everything hinges on my actions tonight, she thought, anguished. God help me. I don't know if I can do this…"God help me," she groaned, not caring what Jehan thought at this point.
Jehan laughed, coming up behind her and snaking his arms around her waist. "God can't save you from me," he snarled. He pressed his lips to her cheek for a gentle kiss. "I'm proud of you, love. I didn't think you'd make it this far, to be honest. But you, I knew you'd be special, witch or not." Renee angrily slapped his hands away and jerked away from his touch. Even flushed and angry, he still found her so beautiful and irresistible. You're mine, Renee, he thought wickedly. No one else's.
Renee glanced out at the great hall at all the people, massive waves of unknown dignitaries and somewhere in that crowd, King Louis the Prudent waited to pay his respects to the young son of Geoffroi Frollo. Her nails were already bitten down to the quick. In a fit of anxiety, she nibbled at their frayed form edges like a mouse. Renee's face, pale and rigid with terror, paled even more at seeing the crowd packed into the hall. A cold chill traveled down her spine and she shuddered, slapping Jehan's hand away when he reached up to brush a stray wisp of blonde hair behind her ear.
"Oh, God," she moaned. "Why me, Jehan?" she pleaded. "Of all the women in Paris that you could have chosen, why me? I don't understand. Why did you pick me?"
I hate you so much, Jehan. I hate you with every fiber of my being. I hope you go to hell and burn in a lake of hellfire for all eternity. And if I have to join you there, at least I can be content knowing you belong down there. There's still time to change your mind, Renee. You and Quasi both hate crowds. There's still time to find him and run away, get as far away from here as you can. No. I can't do that to Quasi, Notre Dame is his home. He'd never agree to leave with you. Besides, if you run, you know Jehan will follow you. Until the ends of the earth, because that's the kind of man he is.
To her surprise, Jehan grew quiet and thoughtful. "Because I love you, that's why," he said softly. " Whether you believe it or not. You know I'll give you a wonderful life, much better than that—that monster can. Besides, you're the most beautiful woman in all of Paris, surely you can see it for yourself?" Jehan turned her head and faced her towards the large mirror hanging on the wall, its white frame mottled and tarnished with the ages of centuries past. It was beautiful. Renee grew uneasy.
This sudden softness in Jehan greatly unnerved her. He cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to look at her reflection.
"When you look at her in the mirror, what do you see?" he demanded quietly.
"I…" she faltered and fell silent. A monster, a demon, someone who deserves to go to hell's gate for all the wrong I've done in my life, the people I've hurt. The man I deeply love whose heart is going to be broken tonight before he loses his life. I'm a horrible person, and I deserve this.
"I see a young woman brimming with confidence. You're not like my other women, Barreau. You, you've never needed face paints or perfume to enhance your features, not like they do. You radiate beauty, warmth, and kindness. Someone I can easily see spending the rest of my life with."
Renee felt her rage beginning to boil over to the surface. The tips of her fingers grew hot and her face paled until it was almost white, devoid of any color. "You're not capable of love, Jehan," she managed, at last, her blue eyes numb with helplessness at her predicament. I see no way out, she thought, despairing. "Alice was right about you. You're sick, you're evil. You never were good. You're evil. You would kill your own son?"
"And what is it you see in the monster that you don't see in me?" he challenged, his eyes narrowing. "It's clear to me you love the man. I'd kill for you to look at me the way you look at me. Tell me. What is it?" he growled darkly. "Now."
Renee felt her temper swell to dangerous levels, although in the moment, she cared not. "He's handsome," she admitted dreamily, relishing in the dark look of jealousy Jehan was giving her. "He has a kind heart, a beautiful soul. He loves me and cares for me in a way that I can't put into words. He loves me more than you ever will, Jehan. You'll never be enough," she spat, disgusted, as she picked up the hem of her gown and stormed out into the crowd, ready to get all this over with.
Jehan glowered after the young woman, but didn't follow. "Soon, my brother," he whispered. "Your pain will be paid for, and you can rest in peace. I'm here for you." Always.
The fear coursed through Renee's veins but never made it to her facial muscles or her skin. Her complexion remained pale; her eyes steady as she stood on the palace steps, watching for the familiar flame of red hair that belonged to her love.
Thinking he wasn't coming, and perhaps at this point, it was better for him that he stayed away, she let out an understated sigh and turned to go back inside, and almost bowled someone over.
"I'm so sorry, sir," she apologized, feeling her cheeks grow hot and flushed as she stammered, tripping over her words, but fell silent as she realized she'd bumped into Quasi. "Oh, it's you!" she relieved; both terrified and elated that he'd made it. He'd promised. "I thought you might not come, but..."
Notre Dame's bell ringer was looking handsome in a simple black tunic and pants, his black boots neat and polished. His red hair had been recently trimmed, and it curled slightly, and a lock of red hair fell over one of his eyes that he brushed aside.
"Of course, I came. I couldn't let anybody hurt you," he said, looking surprised, and even a little offended at the thought that she thought he wouldn't. He held her steady by the shoulders, looking her over. "Are you hurt? Did he hurt you? Alice went inside to see if she could talk to a few of the king's men, see what we can do to help get you out of here," he demanded, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he looked at her.
"No." A lie, but if it would spare him the heartache of worrying, then…it was worth it. Thankfully, most of her bruises had faded, and her wound on her arm was concealed by the sleeves of her red gown.
"I promised you, didn't I?" he teased, a soft smile forming. "I'm a man of my word, Renee. Especially for you." There was, however, no mistaking the fear in his eyes. He swallowed hard and gave Renee a quick once-over. "You look beautiful. No, no," he stammered, suddenly growing flustered. "I—that's not the right word. Radiant? No, too plain. Bewitching, stunning, gorgeous…"
Mine, he thought affectionately but didn't speak it.
She grinned and held up a hand to stop the flow of comments, although secretly, she was delighted. No one had ever given her this kind of attention before.
"I get it, no need to overdo it," she laughed, sinking into a low curtsy for him. "You look rather dashing tonight, love," she admired. "I'm grateful you're here, love. It means...more than you know. I don't do crowds, but it would seem I have no choice tonight but to endure, so it means the world to have you by my side."
Renee grinned, although there was no masking the fear in her eyes. Her heart pounded, rattling against its cage. The crowd as they entered seemed to part for them. Low whispers and jealous murmurs could be heard amongst some, some envious of her beauty, but most were afraid of Notre Dame's bell ringer, gawking at his red hair and the scar on his cheek, calling him demon and monster under their breaths. "My God," she whispered, horrified, only able to watch, as the crowds seemed to part wherever he led her. It's like Moses and the Red Sea. Wherever he goes, they part. They're all afraid of him. They've no reason to be, though!
To his credit, he ignored it as he held her, swiftly and expertly weaving his way through the crowd until they came to a clearing. He hung back as people began to pair off to dance as the music began to play. He cringed as Renee held out her hand, an invitation to dance with her.
"No, love, I'm not one to dance in crowds like this—"
"Fine, then I will," a cheerful voice interjected.
"Adam!" Renee breathed, relieved. Thank you, God. Help's here. With Adam here, we might make it out of this alive. Their priest had swapped his black monk's habit for a simple black tunic and pants, his dark hair neat, his blue eyes twinkling as he looked appreciatively at the young blonde in her stunning red gown. "You look beautiful, my dear," he muttered, bringing his lips to her cheek for a gentle kiss. He turned to Quasi and grinned infectiously. "Last chance, Quasi. Dance with the lady, or I will."
Quasi smiled, waving them off. "Go on. I need a minute," he confessed, taking a deep breath and shooting a nervous look Adam's way, hoping Renee didn't catch on. He unclenched his fist and briefly showed Adam the rings. "I'll…catch up. I'll be here," he promised Renee. To his relief, their priest nodded his understanding and led Renee out to the dance floor.
When Renee flowed in dance, it was if it were the only way her body truly knew how to speak. Verbally, she was always guarded. Physically, she would blend into the background, no matter where she was, not one for attention. But when she danced, her personality burst through. As she twirled, she caught Quasi's eyes staring at her, mesmerized as she moved, him more adept at hiding in the shadows than she. He dropped his gaze momentarily before looking, his head tilted to the side and a hopeful smile on his lips. For Renee, to dance was her freedom; to dance was to become a blossoming flower or a bird taking flight. To feel the movement was new breath for her body and nourishment for her soul that was so tired and broken.
"I'm grateful you're here, my friend," she whispered, returning her attention to her dance partner and leaning her head against Adam's chest, smiling warmly.
"Of course," he said, sounding surprised. "I wouldn't miss it, love," Adam replied, amused. "Nothing is more important than my family, which you are a part of now, love."
"What's wrong with Quasi?" Renee asked, glancing briefly back at the corner where the bell ringer lingered, his arms folded across his chest and a look of utter terror on his face. His face was ashen. "I've never seen him look this uneasy, what gives, Adam?"
Adam suddenly looked uncomfortable. "He'll live. He doesn't like crowds, love, we both know this. But I've told him for years, he's nothing to be afraid of anymore. I just wish he'd listen to me, but he won't. But if you talk to him, maybe he'll listen at last," he sighed; twirling her once and letting her go.
For a moment, she lost him through the crowd. She felt a tap on her shoulder, and she turned, expecting Adam, but she found herself face-to-face with Jehan, who held out his hand, an unusual kind smile on his lips.
Renee didn't trust it. What the hell are you up to, Jehan? Reluctantly, knowing he'd punish her if she refused, she took his hand and he pulled her close, his hands on his waist. He leaned into her, whispering into her ear. "You're beautiful, love. You're doing so wonderfully, I'm so proud of you, pet. It won't be much longer, and all of this will be over, and you and I can be free of these disgusting people."
Smirking at her enraged expression, he twirled her once and shoved her back into the crowd, only for her to accidentally stumble into someone's arms. She looked up, horrified, to see it was none other than the king himself. "Your Majesty!" she squeaked, flustered and her cheeks burning hot as she sank into a low curtsy. "I-I apologize, I meant no disrespect!"
The king chuckled at her outburst. "Never fear, milady," he said, his voice a deep, booming baritone. "You must be our new arrival to Paris, am I correct?" he asked, scrutinizing her petite figure in her red gown, appreciating how the dress highlighted her best qualities. "I've heard the rumors and had to see for myself if such talk was true. You are, as Paris has spoken, the most beautiful woman in this room. I had to see it for myself if the rumors were true, and imagine my pleasant surprise to discover the truth, that you are, in fact, as Jehan says, a beauty..."
She flushed, internally cringing at the compliment.
"I...thank you," she mumbled, turning away, wishing desperately that a hole in the ground would open up, and she could take Quasi and Adam with her, and not come out until Jehan was gone, out of her life forever. Sensing the king's intrigue and growing lust by the gleam in his eyes, she mumbled a half-hearted excuse about needing air and vanished back into the throng of people, weaving her way through the crowd, only for Adam to find her again, looking relieved.
"There you are!" he exclaimed, his shoulders relaxing as he pulled her tight, admiring her form in her red dress. "I thought I'd lost you. It's a maze in here, love. Stay close and don't wander too far," he lightly warned, his brow furrowed and his blue eyes tense. "Don't forget what happened the last time you wandered off. Stay close to me, I'll protect you, with my life if it comes to that," he promised thickly. "I'm afraid Quasi has wandered off too, I can't find him anywhere. Not for lack of looking, though," he grumbled darkly. "I think, if I had to guess, he's afraid he's lost you to one of these noblemen or something," he laughed, rolling his eyes at the thought. "As if he had anything to worry about," he teased, glancing back to Renee to gauge her reaction. "You've always been his," he said quietly, looking pained. "From the very beginning. He was...quite distraught when you vanished into the crowd, I've been looking for you. You should go find him if you can, talk him down from this."
"Here I am," she replied, looking worried as she peered over Adam's shoulder, looking for any sign of Quasi. But he was nowhere to be found. "Where the hell did he go? And Adam, that's ridiculous! He never had to worry about me; my heart has always belonged to him. Why would he leave?" she asked, frowning. "Oh no, I hope I didn't scare him off by suggesting he come! I shouldn't have made him come, what if the people pick on him again? I don't think he could take it twice in a lifetime. What have I done? I never should have brought him here, this—this is all my fault, and I don't know…" she lamented, anguished at the thought of the crowd turning on him. "It's my fault!"
"No, no, he'll be fine," muttered Adam darkly, his brow furrowed as he surveyed the crowd with a trained eye. "Quasi can handle himself. I'm sure he just stepped out for some fresh air. He doesn't like crowds, as you know by now, I'm sure. I'm sure this is a difficult time for him, dredging up old memories of...past events in his life that he'd rather forget, but he'll live." Adam paused, studying her face, how nervous and flighty Renee looked. "Love, what's wrong?" he encouraged gently. "You're looking like you're going to be sick! What's going on?"
Renee's smile faltered as her eyes swiftly scanned the crowd for any sign of Jehan's towering form, but he was nowhere to be seen. "I..."
"Found you," Quasi whispered into Renee's ear, causing her to let out a startled scream and whirl around, playfully punching him on the arm. "Sorry," he teased.
"No, you're not," snapped Adam, but his blue eyes were twinkling. "Here, she's all yours," he managed, gently pushing Renee forward into Quasi's arms, smiling, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Look how nervous she is. Something isn't right, and I don't like it.
Quasi turned to Renee as Adam melted back into the crowd, remaining close enough to keep an eye out for trouble but far enough away to give them privacy. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the dance floor. "I do believe it's my turn to dance with you, if you'll have me," he grinned, starting to lead her out towards the floor, ignoring the stares.
Renee bit her lip, not wanting the night to come to this at all. But…she would have to do it, if it meant… that they might live.
"No, wait, stop for a moment, please," she pleaded, tugging on his arm. He paused, turning back to look at her, confused. "I…I'm not much for crowds, either," she admitted sheepishly, her eyes wildly darting around, looking for any sign of Jehan. "I could use some air. Let's—let's go for a walk. Get some fresh air? It's rather hot, isn't it?" she suggested, fanning herself and taking note of the relief in the young bell ringer's eyes as his shoulders relaxed at the thought of not having to go in the great hall.
He looked utterly relieved. "Oh, God, thank you," he murmured, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "I don't…there's no telling how they'd react to—to me," he admitted, his tone fearful. "I can't."
The two fell silent as they took in the sights of the gardens. Jehan had plants imported from different countries, signifying his wealth. In the center of the garden, there was a pond as large as a small lake with flowering lily pads and a wooden bridge that crossed the middle so you could look down at the koi carp. Renee noticed out of the corner of her eyes that Quasi's face had paled and he looked terrified.
Something's wrong with him, I've never seen him like this, she thought, panicked. She laid a gentle hand over top his hand; his knuckles were white with the effort of clenching the bridge's railing to steady himself.
"Love, what's wrong? What is it?" she whispered. "You're nervous, but there's no reason to be. What's going on? Talk to me. Do you want to head back? I can walk on my own, love, I think I'm fine to head on back, you're seeming to be the one with marred walking skills. Are you okay?" This sudden change in the bell ringer unnerved her. He was looking incredibly too pale to be healthy, even for him, and beads of sweat had formed on his brow, and he was restlessly pacing, back and forth he went. Whatever was going through his mind, he was a nervous wreck.
"Y—yeah, I'm fine, sweetheart," he stammered, suddenly looking flustered. He took a few steps back and ran a hand through his red hair, pacing nervously. "Renee, I h—have something I need to say…" He paused, lifting his chin to study her. "Falling in love with you was like entering a house and finally realizing I'm home. When you smile at me, I feel invisible hands wrapping around me making me feel safe. When your eyes are locked on mine, it's like I can see galaxies instead of just pupils. Having you in my life makes me feel like everything's possible in this world, like I can conquer anything. I don't regret meeting you and I know you might be my first but what I really wish in life is for you to be my last. Until tonight…I never thought that I would lose you. I mean, I know that we've been…we've had our fights, but…I figured even if we didn't end up together, I could be happy just knowing you're in the world," he managed, seeming to fight back tears. "But tonight, I realized that isn't true. So far from it. No, I—I mean, I'm happy that you're in the world," he added quickly, noticing Renee's smile falter, "but…you mean so much to me, Renee and I want to spend the rest of our time in it together, if you will have me. I've lived long enough to know that what you and I share, I can't replicate with another. This love, this feeling, is just you and me. I could travel the entire world, and I'd still have to come right back here to you if I wanted true love. You and I, we're the protectors of one another, confidants and best friends. The trust I give you, that you give me, is what keeps us safe in a world that's dark and cruel to us both." He took a deep breath and stepped back, running a hand through his red hair nervously.
There's no going back after this, he thought, looking pained, as he looked at swallowed and continued. "Whether my heart beats for another day or another hundred years, it's yours." He stepped back away from Renee and knelt on one knee and unclenched his fist. In his hand was a beautiful yellow gold ring, simple and elegant. "I don't want to lose you," he said carefully, studying her reaction and noticing her breath catch in her throat. "I almost lost you once, and I've no intention of letting that happen ever again. I love you, Renee. You, you bring light and happiness into my life when I thought I'd never find it again. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose you. A life without you by my side is not a life worth living. Will you marry me?" he asked, his gaze meeting hers as he tried to determine her reaction.
Tears welled in her eyes. Yes. She struggled to find her voice.
"I…" but she didn't get a chance to give him her answer as a looming shadow covered her in darkness. "Oh, no," she hissed under her breath and turned to face Jehan. "Jehan! Whatever you're thinking, don't do it, please! I'm begging you, let us go."
"So sorry to interrupt this touching scene, didn't mean to interrupt," he mocked, not looking sorry at all. A wicked grin crept onto his face as he glared at Notre Dame's bell ringer. "Just kidding. Yes, I did," he laughed. "I always knew you had it in you, my love, I never doubted you for a second," he purred to Renee, snaking his arms around Renee's waist and giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek. She struggled against him, but it was no use. "You're mine. You're not going anywhere, and I especially cannot allow you to marry this monster."
"GET AWAY FROM HER! LET HER GO!" shouted Quasi, moving so fast he was practically a blur, but Jehan was unfazed. He snapped his fingers and soldiers emerged from the hedges, working to restrain Notre Dame's bell ringer with chains and clamped a pair of manacles on his wrists.
It was an ambush all along, Renee thought angrily. He'd planned this from the beginning. What have I done?
"Arrest them both. Take them to the Bastille."
"NO!" pleaded Renee, fighting to break free from Jehan. "Take me, Jehan, please! You—you can have me but leave him alone! You wanted me, here I am. This wasn't part of the arrangement!" she begged.
"What? Renee, you cannot be serious! He'll kill you!" Quasi shouted desperately, a fuming look in his eyes and he was almost to the point of tears as he fought against the soldiers, but there were too many, the chains too thick. Jehan only had eyes for Quasi.
"You must be my son," he managed, anger laced in his voice, a smile of immense satisfaction on his face as he watched Quasi's eyes grow wide and round with shock. Jehan spat at the bell ringer's face. "You murdered my brother, you son of a bitch. You have no idea what loss is. But so you understand, I'm going to take everything you care about the most away from you and I'm going to make you watch as I take her for myself," he growled darkly, cupping Renee's chin in his hand, tilting her head to the side, ignoring the blazing look in her eyes as she shouted violent protests and obscenities.
Quasi's heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he pieced it all together. No wonder she didn't want to tell me his name.
"I knew you would do well, my dear," murmured Jehan, bringing his lips to hers for a gentle kiss. "Soon it'll all be over. You'll see. I'll give you a great life. Say no, and you'll burn, sorceress," he hissed through clenched teeth. "You'll go up in flames, just like my brother did to that Romani woman that tormented him."
"NO!" roared Quasi. "It's me you want, not her. Let her go, please," he begged, tears welling his eyes. "Set her free."
Renee's eyes grew wide and she grabbed Jehan's arm. "No, Jehan, don't do this, please," she wept. "There must still be some goodness in you, still. Take me. I'm yours. You want to marry me, it's done. I'll go with you. Don't hurt him. That's my one condition," she pleaded desperately. "If you kill him, I will never marry you or speak to you again. If he dies, I die too. I'll kill myself if he's harmed in any way, and I know you don't want that, Jehan. Let him go, and I'm yours," she pleaded.
A muscle in Jehan's jaw twitched as he glared at the young blonde.
"You would…marry me, as long as he lives?"
Renee closed her eyes, seeing no other choice.
"Renee, no!" shouted Quasi. "You have no idea what you're doing!" he protested violently. "Don't do this! He'll kill you! I don't care what happens to me but save yourself! I am not worth losing your life over!"
She hesitated. "If I did…would you let him go?"
"Yes," promised Jehan softly.
"I…" Renee clenched her teeth, desperately wanting to free Quasi, but going to him now would only fuel Jehan's temper more. She shot Quasi a desperate, pleading look with her eyes, trying to apologize.
Don't do this, his eyes told her. Please don't. I'm not worth your life. Get out of here, save yourself. Go with him.
"But you are," she whispered, her voice cracking. I must do this to save your life. I'm sorry. Renee turned back to Jehan. "I will do it. I'll go with you. Yes. You have my word."
"NO!" shouted Quasi, but the soldiers dragged him away with great difficulty as he fought against his chains. He'd managed to give one of the guards a broken nose and a black eye, but there were too many of them. He didn't stand a fighting chance in hell. "LET HER GO!"
"Oh, how noble you two are, isn't this just precious. It's almost poetic in a way, I guess. Star-crossed lovers destined to watch each other die, never to be together in this lifetime or the next," snapped Jehan, angrily clamping a pair of manacles onto Renee's wrist. "Take them both away. Arrest them both. Bring them to the dungeons down below and lock them up. Keep those two apart in separate cells, don't let them stay together. I don't want them getting any ideas. Sorry, love," he mocked, nipping at her ear. "But it's better for me this way. I know you're lying about wanting to marry me, so I've no choice, lovely, but to force my hand. You've done this to yourself, not I. But that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun with you first. I never wanted this; you must know this. Father would have wanted me to prevail, keep my lineage alive, no matter the cost. If it means you get your heart broken along the way, so be it."
"Jehan, please don't do this!" she wept, but her pleas fell on deaf ears as she felt something hard strike the back of her head and the gardens around her went dark as everything went black and she lost consciousness. As her vision faded, her last thought was of Quasi and hoped that she could still find a way to save him.
I never got to give him my answer, she thought before she lost herself to the darkness of her nightmares. I never got to tell him yes.
