12. Fu Lenoir
Marinette sat in the red cushions of her window seat and stared down at the people going on their business. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she could sense tension growing between friends and neighbors and even relatives. People looked over their shoulders for their own children and lovers. It was as if trust was more fragile than ever and ready to burn to the ground, all it needed was a spark. And over the entire week she had been wondering, was she that spark?
A maid called on her door frame.
"Miss Lenoir, Mr. Lenoir requests you to the company room."
She thanked her and almost ran to said room. She hadn't had the occasion to properly greet her grandfather.
Fu Lenoir was sitting in front of the fireplace, calmly smoking a pipe.
"Grandfather," she greeted barely containing her joy.
He looked at her and smiled widely.
"Look at you, Marinette? Where is my wild little savage?"
"I had to learn to behave someday, grandpa."
He stood up and opened his arms to hold her.
"Of course. Your parents would be proud."
She smiled sadly.
"Do you think that my father would?"
Fu smiled too.
"I know so. He didn't want you to be in danger, but that never meant that he rejected your nature."
She closed her eyes to avoid the tears.
"Now," the man offered her his arm, "would you take a walk with this old man?"
She nodded and then walked to the door.