Chapter Three: Night of Nights

Despite a wretched heat wave that had blazed over the Chateau Mountains that day, the celebration was, as always, a success. There was simply too much joy and laughter to take in the fact that the weather had risen so drastically, and no one felt it necessary to be bothered by such a minor nuisance. Not since the recent birth of Alexandre, the son of their crown prince Vincent and his princess Belle had there ever been such merriment and happiness, and hence, the weather was of little concern.

The festivities lasted late into the night, but the final hours did not mean the end of the night's pleasures for all. Deep in the woods, a flickering light shone through the densely grown shrubs and branches, and there beyond them, Lumière waited silently.

"Looking for someone?"

Why he jumped nervously, as Babette constantly attempted to startle him, he would never be able to explain. She was talented at anything she set her mind to.

"Until now," he replied, reaching for the hands she readily offered him. "You do indeed know how to keep a man in eager suspense."

"Only to make the few moments we have more rewarding."

"Few?" he mused. "While the idea is rather dreamy, our love is anything but forbidden."

Babette pouted. "True, but how many times have we ever been entirely alone?"

Lumière held her, caressing her shoulder gently. "You have but to send for me, you know that."

"It is not enough."

"It is too," he grinned, savoring her hand before continuing to explore familiar territory along her arm. "You, mon amourette, are just insatiable."

She giggled under her breath. "Takes one to know one."

"It is your fault, you know," he muttered, relieved as he reached the base of her throat. Most women wore dresses to cover that precious area extensively; thankfully she was not one of them. "I can not help the fact that you are enticing as well."

She felt all coherent thoughts disperse as he finally met his lips to hers, making one last mental note to tease him for not asking to claim his long awaited kiss first. On the other hand, he had been quite patient all day; this one time, she would purposely forget to scold him as he allowed her a breath.

"I...I think..." It took all of her strength to stutter out the smallest words. "Actually...I do not think..."

"You are right. Do not think," he suggested, attempting to continue the kiss. "Not now..."

Babette literally forced herself away, but quickly looked into his eyes reassuring the silent worry that he had not done anything wrong. Biting her lip in thought—and offering her hand to keep his hungered lips busy—she whispered ardently, "Well...I was...simply thinking...that such a time as this is meant for the indoors...alone."

Lumière's gaze had never met hers so quickly. "Quoi?"

Babette pulled herself closer. "I...told you. You would be the first to know when I wanted to be...close to you." She smiled, passion and tenderness blending in her eyes. "I...have been thinking about it all day, and...I am ready."

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Hooves pounded the earth as a rider atop a powerful stallion bolted for the village near the Chateau Mountains. Fortune being with him this night, he pulled the massive horse to a halt outside the local inn, and knocked on the back door.

Pierre, the innkeeper, permitted him entry and led him to a quiet room. The rider could not help but shiver as he followed; every person who frequented this inn knew it was anything but a noiseless place. The hush was eerily unnatural.

Once the door locked, both men sat at the small table joined by a stranger.

The unknown man was the first to make any movement, placing small money purses before Pierre and the rider.

"As promised for allowing us this room," he said to the innkeeper, before addressing the rider. "Should you prove useful to me...we shall see about a possible increase."

While Pierre was a greedy man, immediately counting his earnings, the rider glared at the stranger. "All this trouble for a royal..."

"Not a royal, but one that can have your head on a silver tray if I ordered it, thus you will find yourself in a more pleasant situation if you hold your tongue." Once the rider was unwilling silenced, he continued. "You are from the mountain region, oui?"

"Oui, monsieur. Arnaud, captain of the palace guard."

The man's identity truly meant nothing to the stranger, but he nodded. "How long have you served there?"

"Quite a time..."

"Five, perhaps ten years?"

"Much more."

"Then you have quite a knowledge of every person that resides there."

Arnaud's patience with this man was lowering by the second. "What is the reason for such interrogations?"

The stranger had the most peculiar smile, intelligent but seemingly...sinister. "Something, or someone, was wrongly taken from me; evidence and stories point to the conclusion that she currently serves your master and mistress."

"What has that to do with me?"

"Well," the stranger leaned forward in a secretive manner. "Locals informed me that when they need to...take care of any business, particularly that which your master should not know of, you were the most reliable at finishing the task. You pull through, and most importantly, never get caught."

Arnaud slowly took on the same expression. "So to speak; it depends. What service have you need of?"

"The need to reclaim what is mine."

The captain nodded after a moment. "Two conditions first. Who exactly 'belongs' to you and how much is this person worth as payment for my services?"

"There is no value high enough for this woman, but we shall discuss your reward in good time. Bring me every bit of information concerning her periodically until the time is right. That is all you have to do at present."

"That still does not tell me who she is."

"She would be a maid; it is the only career she has ever known. Her name is Babette."

Both Arnaud and Pierre responded with silence before breaking into separate reactions. Pierre narrowed his eyes at the wall, and Arnaud burst into hysterical laughter.

"That little tramp belongs to you?" he asked once he could breathe. "Is there any man she does not belong to?"

The stranger sat there unaffected, although it was visible in his eyes that his patience was dropping and anger rising. "Nevertheless, her true custody is to that of my sister and myself. Either get me what I want, Monsieur Arnaud, or I can take my business elsewhere. That is, only after watching you take this conversation to the fast coming grave."

Arnaud snorted one last laugh. "Very...very well. Anything you wish to know, you will."

He nodded, then gestured his dismissal to which Pierre hurriedly showed him the door. When the tubby little man returned, the stranger silently locked the door behind him.

As Pierre took a rag to the table habitually, he shoved his reward into his pocket, his back to the man. "You have been most gracious, monsieur. Shall I...be of any more assistance?"

The stranger stalked closer. "As...'kind' as you have been, mon ami...I must say that you have unfortunately seen so much more than you should have."

A few moments later, Jacques exited the room alone, a money purse in his hand and Pierre on the ground behind him, his stingy, money ravenous blood staining the floor.

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Babette bolted awake in bed, breathing heavily as visions of foreboding dread, fearful memories of the past, hazily drifted from her vivid imagination. Lying back down, she put the nightmare far from her thoughts as she glanced around the room to remind herself that she was safe.

Despite the effort not to wake him, Lumière dazedly rose from his own sweet slumber as she snuggled cozily into his arms.

"Are you all right?"

Babette muttered a curse under her breath; the last thing she wanted was to answer questions.

"Cursing is not very ladylike, ma plumette."

"After tonight, neither am I."

Lumière laughed gently. Tugging her close, he planted a kiss on her forehead affectionately. "You dare to insult me like that? You, my temptress, lure me here, and then suggest that I am making you a loose woman?"

"More or less," she smirked. "You, however, have done everything to make this night—pardon the word—ravishing that you have completely exhausted me."

"Still you injure me by choosing sleep as your preferred lover; what am I to do with you?"

Babette kissed him gently. "You will forgive me?"

Lumière smiled warmly. "Always. Get some rest now; we shall see each other again in the morning."

Sure enough, he had barely completed the sentence as she obeyed. With her horrors departed, Babette prayed the morning never arrive to ruin such a breathtaking night.