She did not want to wake up.

Enveloped in softness and warmth and comfort, her eyes fluttered open twice before surrendering to the sweet temptation of sleep. Sleep for pleasure, not as an escape. Burrow into the pure white sheets and let her aching body rest, truly rest. The shy rays of sun that wandered through the curtains, however, foiled her plans to sleep in. She stretched, humming softly, and caressed the hair of the child that cuddled against her.

Felicie, her mind whispered. Poor, sweet child.

She hugged her against her chest, stroking her hair until her expression softened, and her hands no longer clutched her stuffed elephant so desperately. "Don't be afraid," she whispered into her hair. "We will always be here for you."

Felicie, in response, cuddled even closer.

A knock on the door pushed her heart into a nasty tumble – did Lou – she wasn't dressed –

But the person to walk in was a maid carrying two teacups and a teapot. "Good morning, madame and mademoiselle," she said, her voice soft and songlike.

Felicie, groaning, mumbled, "Can it be morning later?"

"I'm afraid not," the maid answered, smiling. "The monsieur gave the instruction to allow you to sleep in for two more hours, no more, so you would not miss the snow."

"Snow?!" Felicie shot up, her fatigue forgotten, and dashed to the window. She leaned against the glass and pressed her face as close as she could. "Snow!" She turned around, eyes wide and ecstatic. "Look, Odette! Snow!"

"Yes, I have seen snow before," Odette replied, smiling, and sat up. "Thank you," she muttered to the maid, who smiled and poured her tea.

She accepted the cup and breathed in deep the scent of verbena and chamomile before taking a careful sip. Years passed since she last had tea, and this cup… the rich aroma and the smooth flavor, gentle and soothing and perfectly balanced, was perfect.

Guilt shattered the moment, the moment she did nothing to earn. This was not her life, those moments of comfort, adorned with tea and hot cocoa and soft, warm beds. And what would Lou think? Would he believe that she accepted him only because of the glimpse of luxury he offered her? He would not think that, would he? That she is vain enough to –

"Breakfast will be held in ten minutes," the maid announced and left.

Felicie, balancing on top of her feet, danced to her closet and picked a thick woolen dress, which she wore in a hurry. "Come! Let's eat and then go outside and play!" She paused for a dreamy sigh. "I have never seen Paris in the winter! I need to find Victor! Do you think we can skate?"

Odette, still fighting her demons, stretched and touched her toes, forehead brushing against the soft blanket. "Do you know how to skate? It's a bit different from dancing Ballet."

Felicie stopped twirling and looked at her. "No, but you can teach me, right?" When Odette grimaced, she asked, "Are… you okay? Is your leg hurting or something?"

"No, not at all," Odette said, her voice low, and rose from the bed. She tested her ankle and exhaled her relief when it decided to support her. She sighed, then began to undo the knots of the nightgown. Even that was a luxury –

"Dad will be happy to see you," Felicie said suddenly. She sat on the bed and hugged the green elephant. "He was happy to see you last night, I think. He doesn't play with me a lot. He reads really big books – really big!" She demonstrated with her hands while shifting her legs back and forth. "But that means he's busy and I can't bother him. That's what Josephine said."

Odette wore her dress. She tied her vest and tried and failed to ignore the veiled sadness that coated Felicie's bright, green eyes. Lou often missed so little, and he clearly loved the child, so why didn't he approach her? Why didn't he allow her to approach him?

"I am sure he wouldn't object to your company," she said instead, then sat on the bed next to Felicie and held her hand. "Do whatever makes you happy."

Felicie nodded, then scrunched her nose, deep in thought. "I know it's not my place, but… will you stay?" She looked up, still holding the stuffed animal and her hand. "You can sleep with me. The bed is really big! I don't – I don't mind." She shrugged, looking away. "It's too big. Dad said I'll get used to it, but I… I don't know. It's lonely."

Odette sighed and hugged her close, cradling her head against her chest. "I can't promise that," she whispered. "But I am always going to be there for you, always." She kissed her forehead. "Let's go and eat breakfast, all right?"

Felicie twisted her mouth, then settled on a mildly appeased smile. "I can show you how to put jam on a baguette. Dad taught me."

Odette's smile widened. "I would love that." She rose, stretched, then offered Felicie her hand one more time.

When the child held her hand, her smile blooming brighter, and led her downstairs. Felicie's excited gait almost matched Odette's racing heart – each jump and leap mirrored the uneven beating that echoed even louder when they reached the dining table, where Lou already waited for them, reading the morning's paper.

She could immediately understand why Felicie was intimidated by the sight, but she could also see through Lou's act. He did not want them to think he was waiting.

She bowed and whispered in Felicie's ear, "Go, give him a hug."

Felicie looked up, frowning, then nodded when she saw Odette's encouraging smile and ran to him, balancing on her toes and embraced the surprised man who managed to lower the paper just in time.

Lou exhaled, amused, and hugged the child. "How did you sleep?" he asked. His eyes glanced in Odette's direction, warmth shining and filling her heart with light.

Oh, he did not think ill of her. She walked – no, floated – to the chair next to him, drawn by the arresting power of his eyes.

"Better!" Felicie declared. "I liked sleeping with Odette. I'm going to make her baguette and jam like you showed me. Can I play with Victor after?"

Odette chuckled. She sat next to Lou and chose not to comment on the seating. Both of the seats next to Lou were arrayed, instead of the seat at the other end of the table where Felicie was supposed to sit. He did not want her to feel alone, she realized. Or had she always sat next to him? Protocol, that's all it was, and yet… breaking protocol also had a meaning.

Lou shook his head, brow cocked at the number of subjects she managed to introduce under less than a minute. "Let's start with breakfast, shall we?" he said, signaling for Felicie to join them.

"And how did you sleep?" he asked, focusing on her. His hand, discreet yet affectionate, snuck underneath the table to hold hers.

Her breath escaped her when she felt his fingers caressing hers, resting on her knee, soothing and yet startling, burning her senses and stabilizing her reality. She returned the gesture, holding his hand, and drowned in his touch. He was her anchor and her storm, and he did not let her go.

But dear Lord, did his touch release a flurry of butterflies in her chest. She felt lightheaded.

"Perfect," she blurred, then cleared her throat and looked down, blushing. Oh, what should she do? Lou still held her hand and – and if Felicie saw…

Lou gave her a gentle squeeze, and she looked up, surprised, to find his eyes focused on her, his smile amused and his gaze knowing. He tilted his head slightly, the perfect picture of a pleased nod, and turned to glance at Felicie. "You are not going anywhere before I had a stern talk with that boy."

Felicie looked affronted. "What?! Why?" She did not break eye contact, not even when the maids arrived, bearing traying full of food.

"Last I remember, you went to a bar, where the two of you had the audacity to spill my drink on my coat," Lou pointed out, voice severe and yet his brow cocked. "Bars and pubs and other rowdy places where alcohol is served are not proper places for young girls such as yourself."

"But – "

"That is not open to discussion."

"But –"

"There are other places with music and proper entertainment."

"But –"

"Felicie," Odette intervened when the child's eyes glazed with hurt. "These places can be dangerous. Alcohol can make people do… strange things."

"But I went to these places and nothing happened to me," Felicie protested, crossing her hands against her chest.

Lou squeezed her hand one more time before releasing her so he could take a slice of baguette and spread jam on it with two clean strokes of his knife. "I know, but just because something bad did not happen before, it does not mean it won't happen in the future." He offered the child the baguette, almost as a peace offering. "The city is large and has so much to offer. I am sure you can find places to play that aren't dangerous."

Felicie's shoulders slumped. "Fine," she muttered, accepting the baguette.

Odette sipped from her tea and began to eat. It was fairly entertaining, observing the two dancing around the concept of family. Lou was still so worried; she could see that yesterday had left its mark on him and refused to release its hold. The worry and the guilt etched themselves into his heart and his thoughts. He blamed himself but was too taciturn to tell Felicie what guided his actions.

And Felicie, who trusted him so completely, did not see the need for caution. She did not understand why he was so stern; he rescued her twice before, he could rescue her again.

Instead of a governess, they need a translator. She giggled, then cleared her throat, trying to fight her traitorous mind.

Lou cocked his brow at her, then started to coat another slice of baguette with the sticky red substance. "And you will take Edgar with you, as a chaperone."

"Why?" Felicie protested, her mouth full. She swallowed after she noticed Odette's raised brows. "We don't need a chaperone! Me and Victor aren't like… like you two."

Lou, who had just finished the baguette and offered it to Odette, turned to stare at the child until she shrank into her seat. Odette's hand – the one that rose to accept the baguette – faltered, then regained its courage and accepted the offer.

She knew her cheeks were burning. She did not dare to glance up and see the look on Lou's face.

Eventually, Lou managed a smooth reply. "Edgar's presence is vital to maintain propriety and your safety. To prevent events like that of yesterday from ever happening again." He cleared his throat. "And you are not to say anything about what happened here during this time," when Felicie opened her mouth, he added, "not even to Nora and Dora."

"Pah!" Felicie blurted, then leaned against the chair in the most unladylike fashion. "I can't tell them anything! And they always tell me stuff," she complained. "Nora always tells me funny things she heard her dad say, and Dora knows all the gossip. Nora said you want to break bad dancers' knee caps!" she declared with unnecessary excitement, almost jumping up and down in her seat.

Odette tried to contain her laughter. When she failed, she hid her mouth behind her hand and tried to resist the shaking of her ribcage. She could see Lou glancing in her direction from the corner of her eye, yet could not stop laughing. Oh, Lou… a part of her waited to see how he'd respond to that particular challenge.

Lou rolled his eyes. "That seems a bit excessive, isn't it?" He shook his head at both of them. "Finish your vegetables if you want to go out and play."

Felicie did not seem bothered by the threat. She ate her food with relish and, when finished, rose from her seat and stated, a spark in her eyes, "She also said that all the older girls don't stand a chance, because you and Odette are a sure thing!"

"Felicie!"

Lou's fist hit the table, the very image of anger, but Felicie giggled and ran to wash her hands.

Odette, meanwhile, looked away, trying to will the blood away from her cheeks. She did not know if to be embarrassed or horrified.

After she left, Lou sighed. "I… apologize for her behavior."

His fist relaxed and rested on the table within her reach. Reach, her mind whispered. Hold his hand. Hold him. Don't let him go. Don't –

"I think I should take my leave, soon."

No. No. No. Why did I say that? Why did I – she swallowed and pursed her lips and looked away, hating herself for the joy that withered from Lou's face. Evaporated – no, froze and wilted, coloring his eyes with gray.

Why did I say that?

Lou cleared his throat, his hand a fist again. "It's… it's still snowing. The Opera is still closed. Surely…." He looked at her, eyes almost beseeching. "Felicie is still recovering. Your presence… is not a burden, Odette. Quite the opposite." He paused, hesitating. "And yesterday, did you not… did it mean nothing to you?"

Oh, his words tore her heart asunder. His voice, soft and anguished, bled within her chest like bruises, black and blue. "People will talk," she whispered, looking down. "This – " she grimaced, then looked up. Oh, moments ago, did he not look happy? "I wish yesterday could last forever, Lou," his name escaped her lips like fire, scarred from pain and longing and regret, "but they will say I stayed with you for money. They will laugh at you –"

"I don't care about what people say. Not now, not then, not ever. I. Don't. Care." His eyes, blazing, tore into her. "People always talk when they have nothing better to do. I care for you more than I care for my reputation," he snarled, then gritted his teeth and ran his hand in his hair. The fury died. His eyes were vacant. "Yesterday could be our today," he whispered. "Our tomorrow. Our lives, Odette, can be days and days like yesterday – better than yesterday, days and nights of us, together." He held her hands in his, his voice deep and raw and vibrating within her. "Is that such a terrible prospect, you'd cast that aside because of some snide comments?"

She could not breathe. Not willingly. The air that rushed into her lungs was Lou's. He exhaled and she inhaled, a promise as warm as his hands and as fiery as his eyes. As soft as his voice. "Are you asking me to marry you?" she rasped, her body aching and her heart throbbing with a pain unknown to her, sweet and frightening.

Lou almost smiled. "You know the answer to that. You know – "

"Monsieur." A servant entered the dining room and bowed, tearing their touch with his presence. "That boy, Victor, is here. He asks to see the mademoiselle."

"Bring him here, first. I wish to speak to him," Lou ordered, somehow managing to feign a calm expression. "And where is that girl? How long does it take to wash one's hands?"

Oh no. Odette turned around, mortified, to watch Felicie emerge from the shadows, hand toying with the hem of her dress. "Ehm. Hey. I… I wasn't listening."

"Clearly." Lou's crisp reply cut through her stomach like glass. "Did we not have a talk about eavesdropping?"

"I don't think so," Felicie replied, balancing on one leg and trying to remember. "I guess I really need a governess. To teach me manners."

She looked at her. Lou looked at her. Her mouth was dry. "I-I…" she coughed, too dazed to manage a reply.

"Please? Pretty please? Triple quadrupole million-drupole please?" Felicie ran to her and clasped her hands together, as if in prayer. "Didn't you say you are always gonna be there for me? Always always always always-"

"All right, fine!" Odette cried, the words tearing through her lips before she could regret them. "Until… until you feel better."

"Until the snow clears," Lou bargained, his voice light, but his eyes turned away. "You shouldn't stay in a place without a hearth."

Lou… her heart beat so painfully when she looked at him. Her hand, entirely on its own, rushed to grasp his. His fingers, weak at first and unresponsive, came alive and held hers almost too tightly. "I'll stay," she whispered, throat tight. "I'll stay."

The world turned upside down when she looked into his eyes. The only tangible thing – the only real, stable part of her spinning world was the gentle gold, flickering in Lou's eyes when she said –

"Monsieur," the servant entered once more, and once again, his entrance tore their hands apart. "Monsieur Xavier, sir."

Nothing happened. The servant cleared his throat, betraying his annoyance, and Victor stumbled into the room, looking around in awe.

"Wow, Felicie! You really got your life settled! Is this real gold? Maybe I should be a ballerina too, all you need to do is tiptoe…" Victor tried, and failed, to balance on his toes. He fell.

Felicie rolled her eyes. "Don't try to be funny, Victor. You're not making a good impression."

The boy jumped up. "Why? Odette already likes me, and I met you yesterday! Love your horse," he declared, offering what he must have thought to be a charming smile.

Odette groaned and glanced at Lou, who's brow nearly disappeared into his hair. Oh, he was certainly not impressed. He rose from his seat.

Victor gulped, sending a beseeching look in Felicie's direction.

"I would not have had to ride said horse had you not enticed my daughter to run away, and then deserted her to be kidnapped by a member of the police. What do you have to say for yourself?" Lou snapped, voice like whiplash.

Victor shrank into his coat, which was too small for him, and the sight was too pitiful for Odette to hold a grudge against him. The boy looked tired and scrawnier than usual, tugging his wet clothes tighter around his form for warmth. He had bags under his eyes and the shifty look of someone who's always hungry. Where did he sleep? Did he find shelter from the snow? Did he eat?

"Err… well, I'm sorry, and it won't happen again?" Victor tried, glancing at Felicie for help.

Felicie pouted, then muttered, "It was my idea to run away. I'm… I didn't intend to go for long, honest!"

Lou glanced in her direction, exhaled, then glared at Victor once more. "No pubs, bars, or any other unsavory place where alcohol is served. Is that clear?"

Victor almost opened his mouth to object. The boy, she had to admit, had guts.

"Is that clear?" Lou articulated, the threat evident.

"Yes, sir!" Victor saluted. His attempt at comedy might have been successful if he weren't so obviously terrified.

"And you," Lou turned, glaring at Felicie. "No running away from this house or Edgar. Understood?"

Felicie gulped. "Yes... I promise I won't do that again. Promise!"

Lou's eyes softened slightly. He exhaled his irritation. "Very well, if –"

A sudden noise interrupted Lou's speech. Victor's stomach growled.

The boy turned bright red. "Eh, sorry about that!" He chuckled nervously. "Usually, Mr. Eiffel brings our breakfast – didn't show up today – guess France can keep Lady Puberty for one more day, eh?" He lifted his thumb in a spirited fashion which, unsurprisingly, did nothing to ease Lou's glower.

The man flexed his fingers, then closed them like a fist. He rolled his eyes. "There is still food on the table. You are welcome to it, if," he emphasized, "you can mind your manners."

"Yes, sir! Elbows off the table and chewing with the mouth closed, coming right up!" Victor declared, excited and obviously grateful. He did not approach them, however, but instead glanced at Felicie, asking for clues on how to act.

"Monsieur," the servant returned and bowed. "The Chief of Police has arrived."

Felicie immediately froze and turned as white as the snow piling outside. "Dad?" she whispered, her voice barely heard. Her hand clasped Odette's, her hold almost painful.

"Nothing to worry about," Lou muttered, then turned around and offered her a gentle, if strained, smile. "Joseph is a childhood friend. He is probably here to apologize." He turned and nodded to the servant. "Take him to the parlor and bring up drinks, if you could."

"Right away, Monsieur," the servant bowed and left.

Lou directed one more scorching glower at Victor. "Do try to be quiet and not make a mess."

Victor grimaced and shrank into his coat, yet managed a dutiful nod.

Lou turned and left the room. He left. And he did not look at her.

Felicie released Odette's hand and hugged herself, rubbing her arms, then sighed dramatically when Victor directed his pleading eyes at her. "You can sit next to me," she muttered and sat in her seat.

Odette reached across the table and held her hand again, offering a reassuring squeeze. It almost broke her heart to see how much comfort Felicie drew from her touch.

Victor, tense and discomfited, tiptoed his way to the table where he sank, with a heavy sigh, into the chair. "That is one comfortable chair. Do you sleep on these?"

Felicie rolled her eyes, but the innocent comment did cheer her up. Her face brightened, the threat of the policeman forgotten. "I'll show you how to put jam on a toast," she offered.

"Why," the boy declared, eyes wide mouth agape at the sight of the food before him, "would I need help with that? You guys eat ALL that?"

Felicie assumed a wise expression. "There's the proper and improper – that's improper, for example," she lifted her eyebrows as high as she could when Victor tried to pour the jam into his plate.

The boy winced and put the jam back, then frowned. "What happened to your eyebrows?"

"I'm lifting one to show you your behavior needs to be changed," she lectured, brows still cocked high.

Victor's face twisted in confusion. "You are lifting both of them."

"Am not!" Felicie fixed her brows with her hands. "Eat your vegetables!"

Odette cleared her throat.

Both children – oh, they were only children, too young to worry about food and manners and the police – continued their banter in whispers.

Were we ever like that? Odette thought, a sad smile twisting her lips. Were we ever so carefree and careless, to run away from everything and chase our dreams?

Yesterday could last forever, he promised. Yesterday could be more than a stolen moment. Yesterday… all her life was left in yesterday; in memories and moments and melodies forgotten and buried. She existed for yesterday, for the promise her life held before the accident, the promise devoured by the flames.

Lou offered her a tomorrow.

Louis entered the room and approached his friend, shaking his hand.

"Ah, Louis! Already in a foul mood, I see," Joseph smiled, shaking his hand and gripping his arm. "Is it me? I brought Cognac." He gestured toward the gifts on the table. "And a doll, for the mademoiselle."

"It looks haunted," Louis muttered.

"It does, doesn't it? Females like strange objects. But the wife said to bring her something, so something I am bringing," Joseph joked, then sighed. "How is she, if I may ask?"

Louis gestured for his friend to sit, then joined him. His mind was a void; his heart was a storm. His blood, beating like drums in his ears, ran cold. Odette…

"Still traumatized, but in good health." He looked away, trying not to think of Felicie's voice, broken and frightened – "It will take time before she trusts the police again."

"Cannot blame her; only myself," Joseph replied, his face grave. "The wife gave me an earful, too," he chuckled, but the sound was dry and bitter. "But I did promise it won't happen again, and it won't. I am writing a set of reforms. A due process, if you will."

Edgar entered, carrying a tray with a glass of Cognac and Pommeau, which immediately brightened Joseph's face. "Ah! You remembered!"

"Only you drink that," Louis commented. "It is far too sweet."

Joseph sipped and smiled appreciatively. "The wife likes to say I have a feminine taste." He waggled his finger. "I am sure it would please your lady guests, eh?" he chuckled. "Speaking of, I brought your carriage! Asked the boys to take it in yesterday so no one would steal it."

Louis groaned.

Joseph frowned. "Hmm? You all right? Not the reaction I was expecting, I must say."

"Thank you for your troubles," Louis muttered, his jaw locked.

Yes. Not the reaction he expected. Odette's reaction was also not what he expected. Her words… were also unexpected. She wanted to leave. A moment in his presence, and she already felt the need to flee. Flee from him. Why? His body was a mess of knots and ropes that tightened around his neck and his lungs and his heart.

Why?

A hand on his shoulder snapped him from his dark reverie.

Joseph looked at him, his eyes kind. "It's going to get better, eh? Give her time to adjust. This is probably all very new to her. It still feels new to me," he chuckled. "Remember? When we were dirt poor, always hungry, searching for francs in the streets? Just… don't chase her. Give her time, and she'll come to you."

Louis looked up, scowling.

Joseph shrugged. "That's how my kids are. Like cats. Spoiled brats won't do anything unless they think you don't want 'em too."

"Cats," Louis repeated.

Joseph shrugged again. "They are not that bad of a pet, I must say. The wife wanted one." He laughed. "I bought her three. Ah! The things we do to make 'em happy, eh?"

Louis sighed and looked away.

"Everything," he muttered.

Indeed, everything.

Joseph excused himself after noticing Louis' distracted mind, but not before he took advantage of the fact and got Louis to invite him and his family for Christmas dinner. Conniving bastard.

Louis sighed and grabbed the doll – creepy as it were – and carried it to the parlor, where Felicie and her silly friend, hopefully, had yet to ruin his carpets. He entered the room, already annoyed נט the thought, and… and froze in the entrance, unable to take in the sight in one stride.

Felicie sat on the carpet, next to the fireplace, hands hugging her legs close to her chest as she listened with a slight smirk and a cocked brow to the boy, Victor, as he regaled his audience with a detailed explanation of his newest… invention? Louis shook his head; he assumed the boy to be an idiot.

Victor sat close to the fire – as close as he could without catching fire, and never, not even for a moment, took his eyes off the unimpressed Felicie. The child, unaware of her power over the boy, leaned against Odette, whose hand brushed her reddish hair and braided it gently. Odette, who smiled so very softly at the boy's exaggerations and shook her head at Felicie's antics. Odette, who, despite her rags, managed to look so regal, crowned by the fire's light. Odette, whose eyes, despite her smiling lips, were veiled; whose shoulders were heavy and burdened.

The woman he could never hope to please, forever a mirage.

She wanted to leave and he, the fool, tried to convince her to stay with an offer of marriage. Unplanned and unintentional – the words escaped his mouth before he knew what they meant – what did he expect? Of course, she knew not how to answer. He moved too fast. And lost.

But oh, she was so beautiful. So perfect. How could he make her see that? Convince her that his devotion was real, and not a sentiment born of duty and pity?

Just give her time, Joseph's advice resurfaced, as jolly and kind as the man himself. She'll come to you.

And Louis, heart working overtime, gathered his courage and entered the parlor, clearing his throat.

Victor, who was in the middle of flapping his hands like a bird, had the decency to blush. Felicie, on the other hand, looked up with a hesitant smile.

Odette glanced up at him under her eyelashes, a soft blush adorning her cheeks, discomfort etched into her pose. Oh, Odette…

He focused on Felicie. "A gift from the Chief of Police as an apology." He offered the porcelain doll to Felicie, who accepted the offer with wide eyes and tender hands.

"Oh…" She held the doll carefully, voice hushed with awe. "What…. What do I do with her? She seems so… brittle."

Victor shrugged. "Don't look at me, I'm not gonna be able to fix that one."

Odette smiled, noting, no doubt, that Felicie's eyes had yet to leave the doll's. "I suggest you play with her, carefully, and refrain from sleeping with her."

"A-ha," Felicie muttered, entranced. Then she very gently, and very slowly, hugged the doll close to her chest. "I'm going to name you Clara. And you are going to be my friend," she whispered to the doll, petting her perfect curls carefully.

Victor scowled at the inanimate threat. "What about me? I thought we were gonna play in the snow today," he sulked.

The mention of snow seemed to have broken through Felicie's trance. "Oh! Right!" She jumped up, then glanced around her and added, "I'll just introduce Clara to Alexandre, and I'll be right back!" She leaped up, already full of her former childish energy.

"Don't forget your coat," Louis added when she landed next to him.

Felicie nodded, offered him her sunniest smile, and rushed upstairs.

That left him with the obviously uncomfortable Victor and the less obvious yet not less discomfited Odette. Neither would meet his eyes. Fantastic.

"Edgar," Louis ordered, voice shattering the tension rising, "take Monsieur Xavier with you and find him a coat that fits, if you could. And another one for Madame Milliner, should she wish to join us."

"Of course, Monsieur," the servant said with a small bow, and waved the young boy toward him, who rushed forward when he realized he was dismissed with an audible sigh of relief.

Louis looked up, but once again, he seemed to have miscalculated.

Odette turned her face away, eyes hard and shoulders tense. "You needn't bother," she muttered, voice hard and unyielding.

"Freeze, then, if that suits you better," he snapped, tone sharpened to match hers.

She flinched, and he exhaled, regret spurring his anger in a heartbeat.

"You don't need to pamper me," she whispered. She sat on the carpet, eyes glued to the flames. "I am neither a child nor your charge. Please understand that."

Louis sighed. "I know. I know that. It was not my intention, Odette." Despite his yearning, he did not move from his spot. He did not force his presence on her. "I meant what I said during breakfast."

She froze immediately at his words – her body shielded by ice and tension.

He continued, his voice, soft, carried the burden of his emotions, "I should not have sprung it upon you so suddenly, but… I stand behind it." He paused, lest his voice betrayed him and revealed his pain. Oh, Odette, would you not end my misery? "I would not demand an answer from you, but… nor will I burden you with my feelings again. Should you reject me, I will… I will accept your answer as final." His breath shuddered.

Odette, on the other hand, appeared to have stopped breathing altogether.

He waited, but she said nothing. Her silence gave him courage. "But, should… should you allow me, I would like to be permitted the right to woo you, Odette. Until you give me your final answer, please, give me a chance to prove my worth to you." The words left him in a rush now – no longer careful and weighty, they stumbled, aching and trembling, from his burning chest.

And yet, Odette said nothing.

She hid her face in the shadows and, barely breathing, unmoving, she bid her time.

All the while, he waited, breathless and dizzy, for an answer – hoping beyond hope that –

"What…" her voice, so gentle, shattered the silence, "what would that entail?"

That… was not a 'no.' Louis could breathe again. He even managed a smile. "For now, a walk in the snow. Chaperoned," he quickly added.

To his surprise and relief, Odette chuckled. Her lips curved upward, ever so slightly, and breathed new life into him. "All right," she whispered.

Her eyes finally met his, and they were gentle and tinged with light.

Oh, what on earth am I doing? Odette's mind whispered frantically, not for the first time, as she walked, arm in arm, with Lou. Arm in Arm. In public! Where everyone could see! Oh, what am I doing?

If Lou could sense her discomfort, he did not comment on it, and in fact, preferred to pass most of the walk silently, eyes focused on Felicie with the calm pride of, well, a father.

Pride that switched to alarm whenever Felicie did something dangerous, which was – unsurprisingly – often, then a sighed relief when Edgar managed to prevent whatever folly the children planned, then a stern glare when Felicie looked back to see if she could get away with said foolishness, to amusement – but only when she looked away.

Oh, dear, she really should stop staring at him, shouldn't she? Odette looked away, trying and failing to fight the blush blooming in her cheeks, only to find herself staring at Lou, again.

She could not take her eyes off him.

If God has mercy, Lou would think her cheeks are red due to the cold. Oh, dear Lord, please make him think that! Odette sighed, shook her head, and slipped.

Lou caught her immediately, his second hand quick to encircle her waist. "Odette! Are you all right? Do you need to rest?"

Odette's breath caught in her throat. From her angle, all she could see was Lou's chest – oh Lord, the way they stood, it was almost a hug! And in public!

She took a timid step back, her breath a cloud of ice between them.

Her cheeks, however, burned even brighter, "Oh, no, I'm fine." She mustered the courage to look up. "My mind wandered, that is all."

Lou, brow darkened with concern, nodded slowly and released her. "Promise me you'll tell me if you do need rest. Edgar would fetch a coach, and –"

A coach? "No, Lou, really, that's too much –"

"No, it's not," he dismissed her, then softened his voice with a sigh. "I want you to enjoy the walk unburdened by pain." His voice, so gentle, dripped like honey into her aching chest. "You did say your leg hurt more in the cold," he added, cautious.

He remembered. "Ah, yes, but I am not cold now," she answered, snuggling into the thick coat he lent her. "Thank you, for your concern." She paused, then added, voice soft, almost ashamed, "I will let you know."

Lou nodded, then leaned closer. "Thank you." He lingered but a moment, so close she could almost smell him, before putting the appropriate distance between them.

Oh, Lou…

How on earth did she find herself walking outside, in the snow, for pleasure? Snow was pain and cold and misery. Snow meant less food and shorter days. Snow meant less visitors to the Opera, more work – for less money. Snow meant she had to spend more money on oil for lamps and wood for her hearth. Snow meant shivering and choosing – the safety of the bed, away from the flames, or warmth. Snow meant nightmares.

And there she was, walking in the snow willingly for no reason other than… enjoyment.

And yet, she did not doubt that he remembered being cold and hungry. She did not doubt that Lou knew of her struggles and that he would provide for her – she would not even need to ask – should she permit him.

You are so good to me, her mind whispered, I don't know if I deserve it. If I deserve you.

"Look, dad! A frozen lake!" Felicie rushed toward them. "Can we skate? Please, oh please, oh please?"

Victor, who followed her, made a face. "We don't have skates. Or know how to skate, silly."

"Dad will teach us!" Felicie beamed up at Lou who, somehow, managed to retain his calm expression, one brow cocked.

Odette sensed his hesitation. "Go on, I'll stay here and watch you." She focused her glance on Felicie, who immediately assumed a slightly apologetic expression. "I trust you will not do anything risky, you heard me? You must protect your legs at all costs."

Felicie nodded eagerly. "Promise!"

Victor jumped in, "I also promise!" When both Odette and Lou stared at him, he added, deflated, "to watch over her legs, I mean."

"…Right," Lou muttered, shaking his head. "Go to the stand over there and find skates your size. I will join you momentarily."

He sighed, shaking his head again when the children took off in an excited run, then led Odette to a nearby bench. "Are you certain you are well?"

Oh, his concern would be her undoing. "Yes," she answered, yet sighed in relief upon finding rest. "Thank you."

Lou nodded absentminded. The concern did not leave his eyes. "And You would not… lack for company?"

"Oh, come now, you promised!" She chastised. "I am sure I will have my fair share of amusement, watching Victor becoming acquainted with your teaching methods," she teased.

A smile brushed Lou's lips. "Is that so. I am pleased to hear that." For a moment, he did look pleased, but the moment passed. "I'll ask Ada to prepare warm towels for your leg. Would that be… all right with you?"

Oh. Her cheeks blushed immediately, betraying her without a moment of hesitation. She remembered his skilled hands on her leg, easing the pain away with a gentle touch. Oh. "Yes, I…" she exhaled, "yes."

Lou nodded. Almost like an impulse, his hand lifted hers to his lips for a short and fleeting kiss. He flickered a hesitant glance in her direction that transformed into confidence when he noticed the reddening of her cheeks. He bowed, a touch of a smile gracing his lips, and left her, breathless and blushing, alone on the bench.

Well, not entirely alone. Dressed in finery, she suddenly found herself surrounded by other finely dressed ladies that preferred an idle chat to skating.

Oh, what I would give to skate with you, she sighed.

But the ache, though never entirely gone, subsided when she busied herself observing Lou teaching the children the basics. She smiled and shook her head, and sometimes, even laughed.

Victor fell, over and over and over again, yet never gave up. Felicie mastered the basics a tad more gracefully, but found herself tripping almost just as often as Victor – and no doubt would have fallen twice as much, if not for Lou's cane.

Oh, she would not trade Lou's exasperated expression for anything.

Eventually, the two learned the basics and managed to skate without falling (more or less). At that point, Lou left them to skate by himself and turned quite a few heads when he revealed himself to be an excellent skater.

Show-off, who is he trying to impress? Odette scoffed, then realized. Me. If he is trying to impress someone… it would be me.

"Are you all right, madame?" asked the fine old lady seated beside her, draped in silver fur. "Your cheeks are bright red!"

"Oh, I'm… I'm fine," she stuttered, unable to take her eyes off Lou's elegant, powerful skating. He glided like a king, cutting the ice with his sword, precise like the wind.

"Are you certain?" the lady scoffed. "Henri, offer the madame Cognac."

"Yes, madame," the servant replied and immediately poured Cognac into a crystal glass, which he offered Odette with a bow.

Odette froze. She never drank Cognac before. "Oh, no, I couldn't – "

"Nonsense. The glass was already poured." The old lady glared. "Down it, if you are not used to the taste."

Feeling lost and alone, Odette accepted the glass and tried to drink it as quickly as possible.

The lady did not mention it was utterly disgusting.

Odette choked, coughing pathetically into her glove.

"Thank you, Henri," the lady dismissed her servant. "How are you feeling?"

Odette fought the coughs until she managed to utter, "Warmer," and then coughed again.

"Hmm." The lady nodded. "You never drank before?"

"No, madame." She could finally breathe again, despite the burning of her throat. "Not Cognac."

The lady nodded again. She hit the ground with her cane. "Indeed, some would consider it a man's drink. Thinking a woman can't handle her liquor. Fools," she spat.

Odette, meanwhile, began to feel dizzy.

"Is that your husband? The one skating so skillfully?" The lady pointed her cane at Lou.

"Oh, no," Odette whispered. "He only just asked me." Her honesty would have surprised her, but her mind felt slow and sluggish.

"Your fiancé, then?" The lady nodded. "He seems like a fine man. And the children?"

"Orphans, under… under his care." Odette gripped the bench with all her might, begging the dizziness to pass.

"Charity? Ah, how wonderful. I am an avid supporter of charity. I am throwing a winter ball every year to raise money for the poor. For Christmas, you see."

"How wonderful," Odette echoed the lady's words back to her.

The lady did not seem to notice. She nodded in self-importance. "Indeed. I must ask, however, why are you seating here with old crones such as myself and not skating with your man."

Odette shrank slightly. Still, she felt too lightheaded to object. "My leg is injured, so I… am here."

The lady's sharp eyes narrowed. "Permanently?"

Odette nodded.

"Too bad. You should have come to my hospital when you were injured. I hired the best of experts, for all such occasions." She nodded to herself. "How did you injure it?"

Odette's eyes found Lou again, skating, no, flying on the ice. "I was a ballerina," she whispered.

"And now you are a teacher?" the lady continued her interrogation.

Odette shook her head. "I am not," her voice as soft as the falling snow.

"Why not?" the lady barked. "Were you not a dancer of talent?"

"I was the best." Odette retaliated, the Cognac breathing new fire into her. But the fire died quickly, and she dropped her gaze. "How can I teach when I cannot dance?"

"Oh, poppycock," the lady dismissed her. "I am not a doctor or a musician, but I have great taste. I know what is good and proper and what isn't, and I manage doctors and musicians and tell them my bidding. And they do it because they know that there is a difference between deciding how to act and the act itself. It does not matter if you cannot dance, as long as you know how to. Look at me. What is your name?"

And Odette looked up, as lost as a child, and whispered her name.

"Madame Milliner," the lady commanded. "I charge you with courage. Stop wallowing in self-pity. Nothing disgusts me more than self-pity. You are to teach, do you hear me? I expect nothing less of any woman, but to rise to the challenge and conquer it." She nodded, agreeing with herself. "Don't let your fiancé peacock before you for nothing."

Odette sighed, still too lightheaded for her liking, and lost herself in Lou's dance.

Perhaps it was the coat, perhaps it was the Cognac, but for some reason, watching Lou skate… filled her with warmth.

If he were honest with himself, despite the wind nipping at his ears and his unfortunately wet socks, Louis was displeased to return home, since now he did not have an excuse to have Odette by his side.

The woman was silent on the trip back, though she seemed less discomfited by his presence. She smiled when he approached her and did not hesitate to accept his offered hand.

Upon entering the mansion, the children ran to play upstairs, escaping Josephine's anger, and thus provided Louis with another opportunity to spend some time alone with Odette.

He led her to the back parlor – smaller, more intimate – and gently guided her to the sofa, then called for drinks and asked Ada to warm some towels.

Odette scoffed at his efforts but did not seem offended. Nor did she shy away when he sat next to her and took her hand in his.

"You were speaking to quite an audience today," he murmured, then kissed her hand.

Odette blushed. "Is that so? I did not know."

Louis chuckled. "I believe her full name is Nathalie-Victurnienne-Delphine de Rochechouart de Mortemart, or something of the sort."

Odette laughed, surprised. "No wonder she did not introduce herself. What a mouthful!"

"She's an influential woman." Louis released her hand when Ada entered, bearing drinks and towels, but could not resist claiming it again the moment she left.

He caressed the gentle fingers, exploring the soft skin and the tender expressions Odette allowed herself to make, enticed by his care. She used to be less careful in his presence. He hoped she would feel comfortable to permit herself the same carelessness once more.

He hoped and he dared. With a final glance at her warm eyes, he bowed before her and lifted her leg. She gasped but did not resist him, so he proceeded to untie the shoelaces and slowly, carefully, remove the wet boot, then the sock, until he held the cold limb in his hands.

"Lou…" She whispered, a hint of protest laced in her voice, but did not withdraw from his touch.

"Let me warm you," he replied, eyes glancing up to meet the gentle, fleeting blue that haunted his dreams. "Fulfill my promise."

She sighed, "so dramatic," and looked away, but her burning cheeks and parted lips betrayed her. And though her hands were tense and her breaths short and controlled, she did not resist when he wrapped the hot towels around her ankle. Despite the passage of time, his fingers did not forget their nightly tradition from the days of their youth and massaged the pain and the cold and the stiffness out of the limb. His work was diligent and careful, but try as he might, he could not chase away the thought that Odette, once again, permitted him to touch her.

Suddenly conscious of his act, he coughed, "How are you feeling?" and glanced up.

To his surprise, Odette looked at him, cheeks rosy and lips parted, as if she could not look away. "Warm," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

Her eyes, unwavering, held a promise from so long ago, rekindled by the gentle touch –

"Dad! Can we go outside and have a snow fight? Victor said he and Mathurin were planning the biggest snow fight in all of Paris! Oh please, oh please, oh pleaseeee?"

And the moment was gone.

Author's notes:

Sorry it took me so long to update! I just finished my college degree (took a lot more of my time than I had expected) so finally - an update! I expect I will write one or perhaps two more chapters, so stay tuned! What'd you think? Comments would be most appreciated!