Author's Note Thank you Mark C for reviewing every single one of my chapters. I really appreciate that.

Chapter 9

She was not with the gypsies any longer. Remy had informed them that she ran away while he was trying to communicate with her. Such a flirt yet such a wreck around Rogue. Scott and Jean wanted to believe that she ran away from poor Remy but they knew deep inside he had nothing to do with that. Maybe she feels she had overstayed her welcome with the gypsies which, to Jean, is impossible. Jean resorted to the conclusion of Rogue being at the church with her brother. They might be able to see them together at last. Jean smiled as Scott hopped off the horse and Jean was helped off after him. He was such a proper gentlemen for a gypsy. A gypsy, to her mother, was said to have no proper etiquette whatsoever. But Jean knew otherwise. She looked to Scott who was staring forward with knitted eyebrows. She kept her gaze on him, not realizing something was wrong. She admired his serious face. The way he took life lightly, yet intimidated people with that look. But he could never intimidate Jean.

Noticing his knitted eyebrows and resorting to finding out about his serious features she whispered, "Scott?" She turned around to see him standing stiff. "Do you not want to come?"

Silence.

"I……I…I do."

"Are you afraid?" Jean asked as Scott was in silence as a form of bravery. A form of containment. "There is nothing to be afraid of," she whispered as Scott looked into her green eyes. So warm and knowing. He held her gaze longer than usual as he went into her eyes, feeling the depth of the color green. Amazing intensity of warmth and love. She let out her hand for Scott to take. And he did so. He put his hand in hers, so tenderly. He would follow her anywhere. "Trust me. It is worth it."

Scott walked behind Jean as she led him forward, hand in hers. They opened the cathedral doors slowly to be met with the eyes of the priest a few feet away. "Proceed into the house of God," the priest said silently. "Where everyone is welcome."

Scott held on to her hand as they looked around to see a hooded figure. Jean did not say a word but led him to a room she knew the location of perfectly. The room she had had an encounter with Kurtis. The room she had met him in. Scott looked around to see candle holders holding candles that were dripping of wax and melting. They were dim but the room still glowed warmly. A hooded figure's shadow was displayed across the checkered floor with the dim lights of the candles giving the shadow a slight glare. "Kurtis?" Jean's voice echoed through the empty room filled with long, thick poles that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. He was silent. He was frozen. Jean motioned for Scott to come closer. So he did.

Kurtis had his hand through his sleeves pulled together as his back was hunched. He was whispering silent words. Prayers. Scott's knitted eyebrows became relaxed as he let the comfortable presence of Kurtis wash over his senses. He looked forward and saw something a person with fear of the unknown would not see. He saw a kind soul in front of his eyes. Something he had failed to look into before.

Silence echoed through the mediocre sized room. Hard breathing came from the hooded man. He whispered something in German then he made it clearer when he said it in French. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I am so sorry. I am truly sorry," he whispered lightly as he bent his head down.

Jean came up to him to place a light hand on his shoulder. "Kurtis, there is no need to be sorry," Jean whispered with a cracked voice quietly, her voice sounding weird to her ears after so much silence.

"I am truly sorry," he spoke again. Jean listened to his sorrowful voice and looked back at Scott who was silently approaching behind her. Jean looked at Kurtis' back and noticed his hood. "She vas scared. I vas terrified."

"Kurtis, wh……???" Jean's voice trailed off as she rested her fingers on the ends of his shoulder.

"They vere terrified of me. Vhich made me terrified of zem," Kurtis said ever so lightly. Jean and Scott winced at his words. How could they have been scared of him this whole time when the only reason he hid was because of his fear of people? Arrogant people who made up rumors to hide what they did not know. To not feel bad about being close minded and rejecting towards what they know could be kind souls. Jean took in what he said and wondered why people would be terrified of a man who had been here for so long. As long as they knew he was not interfering with them they said nothing. But when he decided to live, they rejected him. What could they reject of such a kind soul?

Jean suddenly had the urge to pull off his hood. To look face to face into the eyes of that whom they have misjudged for so many years. They ran the first time they encountered him, and the second time. But she knew running did not do any good. When people run, they go so fast because of fear that everything around them is a blur. If they had just stopped to look. If they had only stopped and seen him. If they could have only stopped to see him. But now they had the chance to see him and she was taking it. She lifted her hand towards his hood and began to bring it down softly and very slowly. Kurtis' head turned the other way.

Before the hood fell to his shoulders, a gasp came from behind. Scott turned around to see Rogue standing at the doorway. But her gasp was too late, for the hood had came down to his shoulders. His pale face was slowly turning towards them. Carvings were marked on his face. Jean recognized the angelic symbols. Jean lightly ran her fingers over the carved markings with no fear. Scott almost felt jealousy flow through him.

"One for every sin I have committed."

"We are sorry Kurtis," she said with despair. Kurtis looked to her with innocence and confusion.

"We are sorry for those who were blind to see you," Scott said, clearing up Kurtis' confusion.

"Dankeshon. Thank you," Kurtis whispered as silence echoed the room once more, "for being here."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A week has passed since they had spoken to Rogue and Kurtis. Jean and Scott both enjoyed being with those two, despite their fear of them when they had judged them before knowing them. They both felt so safe and warm with Rogue and Kurtis. To have such pure souls tortured and tried was over bearing for Jean and Scott. But Kurtis had told them that God puts everyone in the world in situations that are not easy to see how they will handle it. To see if their souls have the strength and capacity to stay good in the face of evil.

Scott tried to keep that in mind as he walked, for the first time, to the front gates of the palace Jean belonged in. The guards opened the gates for him for the first time as he stepped into the main hall of the large palace for the first time. This was so nerve wrecking that Scott forgot to breathe for a second in the time he was blindly led to the dining hall by the servants he knows so well.

He was surprised to find his head not looking around large objects that looked amazing to him, but in the marble ground. A strong man would only put his head in the ground when he was thinking about a woman. For no large objects were more amazing to him than Jean was all his life. Sometimes he would lay back and picture his life as a whole. He would laugh at it. Who would ever imagine love between a princess and a gypsy. Such a combination was impossible. But nevertheless, it had happened.

When he heard footsteps his head popped up. He straightened his white blouse and made sure not a speck was on it. He had to look clean. He looked at Jean and Kitty who were walking in the dining hall. The candles that were lit around the walls of the halls gave Jean's face a soft warmth and Scott began to fiddle with his hands.

"Good evening, Sir Scott," Kitty said nicely with a bright smile as she tapped Jean's hands and looked at his warm expression towards her. "Scott?"

"Yes Ma'am," Scott regarded Kitty, a servant.

"When you speak, speak with confidence. Otherwise, the queen will find weakness in you," Kitty said honestly and motherly like. "Don't avoid eye contact and if you do, show the confidence with your face." Kitty desperately wished she could be more like the words she spoke.

"I will be sure to follow your advice," Scott said as Kitty exited the room and fled to the kitchen. Scott began to walk around the large table and fiddle with the neat napkins and forks and knives. After a moment of awkward silence, Jean broke it with an idea in mind.

"Scott," she said as Scott's full attention diverted to her. "I do not like this awkward state between us. It is causing us to be intimidating to each other." Scott's expression lightened as he smiled and looked at Jean as a friend and again as something more, all at the same time. He looked at her eyes and felt that familiar warmth and comfortable state he always used to feel around her.

"How about we help Kitty set the food on the table," Scott stated with a smile as he grabbed Jean's shocked remorse and led her into the kitchen. Jean walked in with awkwardness.

"This is amazing!!!" Jean exclaimed as she began to open the cupboards and gaze at the plates and silverware inside. The kitchen was medium sized with wooden tables and cupboards and the smell of freshly baked food. Far less fancy than the rest of the palace, but amazing, warm and light. It reminded her of being with the gypsies. Everyone in the kitchen was doing their business with loud chatter, that cannot be heard through the hall and into the dining room, of happiness and togetherness. They were fulfilled with each other and their surroundings, despite where they were exactly. They helped each other with cooking which was a great activity to pass the time. Jean had never even touched food without a utensil before. She looked to Scott who surprisingly had the same expression she did.

He looked around the kitchen to smell the fresh food around him as if it were Heaven. How wonderfully amazing it is to have all this food. Delightful to the appetite. Scott wished he could grab just a handful of this food to feed his people. What great joy they would get from just a handful! If he were to live here he would spend every waking moment in the kitchen. The people reminded him of his own, the way they were care-free and fulfilled with what they were doing. Jean suddenly looked at him as they both plunged forward, the servants inviting them in, to grab the large plates and take them inside. "How can servants make this tasty looking food and not be able to share a meal with you on the table?" Scott asked as Jean froze and looked to him intently and deep thinking written on her face.

"I don't know Scott," Jean said silently under her breath. "I don't know," she repeated with an even lighter whisper as they retrieved to the kitchen and finished up the work in a half hour. They had arrived in time to sit on the chairs, clean, when her parents arrived. The king and queen went down the long table to sit at the head. Jean and Scott took their seats after the king and queen. Apparently two minutes later, three more people walked into the room. Scott's heart began to pound with nervousness against his chest. He turned to Jean as he heard her gasp.

"Good evening your majesties," the thin woman said as her husband and her walked over to be seated next to Scott. A couple of servants and body guards stood against the wall, to Scott's knew knowledge, as their son sat next to Jean, across from him. He looked at the blond man for a second when he was interrupted by the blond man's mother. "So this is the man the queen has been talking about. Such a good deed for your daughter, King John, to feed this poor boy." Scott suddenly froze at her words and pretended not to take them in. He did not even look towards Jean, but he felt her trying not to fidget.

"This food is delicious," Jean spoke with a half cracked voice when minutes of silence passed. When she regained her sound she continued. "The cooks and servants did a well done job creating such a delicious meal."

"Stop leaning on the back of the chair, boy," Queen Elaine snapped quickly and quite fiercely at Scott as she then turned her attention to Jean with raised eyebrows. "Since when did you, Jean-Marie, comment on the food?"

Scott had his back away from the back side of the fancy red chair to eat food on and felt a little awkward. He felt as if he could not enjoy his food this way when he was focusing so much on being poised. But he kept a light smile on his face and tried to make conversation with the woman who was oddly related to Jean. "The food is wonderfully tasteful, your majesty."

"I'm sure to you everything is," Queen Elaine said bitterly.

"Well, being a peasant is not an easy task," the man that seemed to be the blond man's father said, trying to sound respectful. Scott slightly slouched unconsciously at the words. Had Jean not told them he was a gypsy. No, of course not. How could she, they would never understand or let him step foot in their house. He did not know if he should be ashamed of himself or proud?

"Yes, it is hard to keep clean with such surroundings," Duncan's mother stated with a polite little giggle, as if she was trying to keep her manners under such conditions.

"Mother," Jean said with a tight voice. "I comment on the food today to inform you that the servants deserve a raise. Especially Kitty." Jean ate slowly and properly, unlike the way Scott saw her eat with him in his surroundings. Was this a good thing? "After all she has done for me……for us. She raised me." Jean took a bite of her food slowly, devouring the taste with satisfaction.

Queen Elaine gasped and placed her small hands on the table with objection. "We will speak of this matter later," Queen Elaine said as she turned to Scott with daggers in her green eyes. "Sit up straight, boy. It seems you cannot even have proper manners for dining with the queen. Neither the proper clothing," she said as she looked over his ordinary blouse, with no gold hanging from it and with no value to royalty. But Jean thought it had value. She guessed that his mother made it and what could be more valuable.

Jean looked at Scott who was biting his lip and fixing his posture. He did not look like the man she knew. She turned to her mother and decided to argue. If she did not speak now, she would forever hold her peace. "No Mother, we will speak of this matter right this instant!" she exclaimed to her surprise. "Because………it is already done." Jean felt her mother's stare on her as she thanked Duncan, for once, for interrupting.

"Queen," Duncan said with a smug voice. "Do you not believe that your daughter needs to have some control in front of guests?" Jean turned to him with slightly squinted eyes, trying to keep a small, but fake, smile on her face. Duncan looked to her with a tightened jaw and eyes that felt like Jean was being pierced with needles.

"Duncan Mathewette," Queen Elaine said with the sweetest voice she could conjure, "this boy is no guest."

"I was talking about my family and I your majesty," Duncan said with a small guffaw. Scott tried to ignore eye contact with this man. A presence that made him want to escape this place and hide. He had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. But then he looked towards Jean's embarrassed face and decided to be strong, yet polite to her mother.

Instead he directed his bravery towards her quiet father. "King John, I………" Scott found himself speechless. Why did he even open his mouth if he had nothing intelligent to say? This was not his usual behavior. How far he would go for the woman across from him? Obviously far enough. He sighed quietly. Where was Grandfather Charles when he needed him desperately? Scott was usually brave in front of such people, containing his feelings, but this was it. He did not want to contain his feelings in the name of love. He needed to speak out. How would a person know how to dry tears if one did not cry out.

He looked towards Jean as if to say something he could not speak. He found her mother staring at him from the corners of his blue eyes. She had frozen with knitted eyebrows and a knowing expression. As if she had known something and just seen it proven true. "I believe the wedding should be in the spring, what do you think John?" Queen Elaine said as she watched Scott's eyes shrink and his body slightly tense. Who was she talking about? Scott was afraid to ask. It is as if she could hear his heart pounding.

"That would be wonderful your highness," Duncan said as he looked towards Scott so hard that Scott felt uncomfortable under his eyes. He felt so uncomfortable that he did not take in the content of the question directed towards him. "You look familiar. Have we met before?"

"Duncan," queen Elaine said with a laugh as if it were funny. "The only place you would have an encounter with this man is if you were walking and looking at the ground."

Duncan kept his cold stare on Scott's fidgeted body at queen Elaine's words. After a moment of staring Scott did not want to turn to Jean or her parents so he turned to Duncan. There, their eyes had met across the table. Blue with blue. Royal blue and sky blue. Ice and heat.

Those eyes. He recognized those eyes. It was the leader of those who attacked him and his family. Did Jean know about this? Why would she not inform him? Why did she not tell him that he would be coming for dinner? Scott thought about getting up and running out with a clouded and hurt heart. But he could not give in to the man who killed so many of his people. He could not look weak in front of Jean's parents, the king and queen of France. Not now. He had to stand his ground for himself, and most importantly, for Jean. He looked to Jean with a solemn face and his heart sank. It sank down into his belly. He could not give up on her now. So he tried to make as polite conversation as he could possibly muster. "Oh weddings are wonderful. They are a very joyous occasion to everyone," Scott said with a smile as he tried not to look at the food. If he did he would want to eat it all in one mouthful. But afraid of what Jean's mother would say, he dared to touch it. Scott turned to Jean who had her eyebrows creased and knitted at the same time. What was wrong with her? Had he not proven himself to her either?

"Yes weddings are wonderful," queen Elaine said through gritted teeth. Whoa, Scott thought happily. She actually agrees with me! When queen Elaine relaxed and smiled politely she continued. "Especially for one's own child."

"Of course," Duncan said looking to Jean with a small and mischievous grin. "We will be the greatest couple in all of France, your majesty." Duncan turned to Jean to see her frozen. He placed a hand under her chin to turn her head up. "Why are you not eating, my sweet?" Duncan asked with a fake polite voice.

Duncan's gesture towards Jean drove him towards insanity. It filled him with overwhelming frustration. Scott could hear his heart beating in his throat. He prayed that this was just a dream. But he looked down at his plate and felt his mind fill with frustration and his body cloud over and knew it could not be a dream. Dreams were more enjoyable. Something that would never be. He suddenly pictured Jean with another man. An evil man who mistreated her and kept her bright mind quiet. Goose bumps suddenly filled his body as he imagined arms that are not his around her. His breathing became vague and he could not feel the atmosphere around him.

Scott's heart and mind were taken over with confusion and hatred towards this man. He looked to Jean who had her eyes on her food. Silence crowded the table as King John began to speak with Duncan's father and his mother joined them. Queen Elaine pretended as if she was unaware of anything going on at the table and joined in the conversation between the elders. Duncan ate his food happily as Jean's hands grew weak around her fork. Scott kept his blue eyes upon Jean and felt the need to take her away right now. He wanted to grab her and place her on a horse. He wanted to take her as far away from everyone and everything as possible. He felt selfish at the moment. But he felt great pride in his selfishness. He wanted her for himself and no one else. "Who are you to judge?" Scott questioned a little louder than the tone he has been using the whole time. He broke out through his locked emotions. Everyone grew quiet. Jean was surprised, yet quiet.

"I beg your pardon?" Duncan asked as if he had not heard him.

"Contain the level and the tone of your voice," Queen Elaine said sharply as Scott ignored her comment and kept his eyes locked on the murderer.

"Who are you to judge?" Scott asked again, with a sharp tone this time. "Do you even know any other couple outside of these walls? Do you even know if Jean loves you?"

"Do you know?" Duncan questioned back. Scott looked at him through squinted eyes. His expression was gruff as his breath heaved with anticipation of comebacks. Did he even know?

"I know that she does not deserve an evil man like you!" Scott yelled back with anger as he slammed his hands against the table and stood up. Duncan imitated his movements and stared at him coldly.

"Young man, contain your anger!" Queen Elaine exclaimed as everyone watched the two battle. King John turned to her in protest as Queen Elaine disregarded him. "You piece-less worth of nothing. You are nothing and will never be able to amount to anything. Not even an insect. You are beneath us. That is the end of that." Scott turned to her with a heaving breath and hurt blue eyes. His features seemed flushed and he was angry with the world. Why did things like this have to happen? "I know very well what your intentions are," she said coldly as she looked at her daughter. Then she turned her full attention back to Scott and stared him down, without blinking. "The future queen will marry a man worthy enough to be future king. Not some peasant!"

"Your majesty," Duncan interrupted. "May I inquire that he is beneath peasants. He is a gypsy." A gasp was heard from everyone on the table, except for Jean. Jean was quiet. "Dissolute creatures they are. He is one of them. He should not even step foot onto this floor. We are inferior to them and they need to be taught that lesson."

Could Scott tell them what Duncan had done to the gypsies? No. They would agree with Duncan's actions. Morals that are not righteous. Scott clenched his jaw and made his hands into fists. He pulled his chair back with the back of his legs and walked out of the room quickly.

Everyone watched him leave. Except Jean. Her eyes were fixated on her food for the last two minutes. Everyone began to chatter silent words, some loud words. Except Jean. She was silent.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Scott went through the garden he had come to pick flowers from seven years ago. The garden that had led him to meet Jean in the first place. He was headed towards the trees to escape the grounds of this horrible palace. Beauty from the outside and hatred from the inside. Anyone who was in his place would curse themselves for ever wondering what it was like in there. He was so frustrated and confused that he did not know what to think. How to react.

"SCOTT!!!" Scott heard a voice call out to him from far away. He did not want to speak with anyone. He continued walking until the voice called out again, louder this time. "SCOTT!!!" the voice came from the middle of the field. Scott turned around to be met with Grandfather Charles. Why had he listened to his advice?

Scott wanted to scold him cruelly somehow but he knew he should not. He knew he would only be doing it because of the anger he had built inside of him. Scott could only muster words that came from within. Words he barely heard himself speak. "Why were you not there Grandfather?" he asked with a strong, mono-toned voice that he noticed made Grandfather Charles wince.

"I am sorry my son, but I was meeting with some old friends," Grandfather Charles said apologetically as Scott turned his head away from him. He could not look at him in fear of bursting with anger. "So how did it go, my son?" Charles asked, pretending he did not see the hurt expression upon Scott's confused blue eyes.

"You believe in character and judgment. You believe in human beings and their morals," Scott said with emphasis on the words he spoke of stress and anger.

"I certainly do. Everyone is equal in moral ways they do not even realize," Charles said as he lightly stomped his cane on the ground and held a frozen face towards Scott with his mouth set in a grim line.

"Sir Charles," Scott said formally with a light bow of his head. "Your ways are a waste of precious time in this world. People have ears but they do not listen. People have hearts, but they do not feel. I believe reality is far from your grasp."

"And what of love, young man?" Charles asked with a convincing voice.

"Love is a figment of our imagination," Scott whispered as he shook his head in pity. He turned to walk towards the trees and find his horse. Finding it he did. Climbing onto he it he did. And riding away in seconds, he did.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Author's Note Sorry for taking so long to write my ninth chapter. I had a writer's block but continued when I remembered my reviewers. Thanks!!!