Chapter Seven

"Hello? Anyone home in there?"

Etienne heard the cook's voice, but blatantly ignored her as he continued deep in his thoughts. Unfortunately, his choice earned him a smack upside his head with a wooden spoon.

"Ow!" he cried, looking for anything cold to numb the pain. Madame la Monge may have been a kind old lady when she wanted to be, but once she had that spoon in hand, she could do in an entire army. Thankfully, he found a bit of ice, wrapped it, and placed it comfortably on what he was certain was the beginning of a bruise. "You are going to kill me one of these days."

"You deserve it," la Monge scolded. "I just wish I knew what her name is so I could do the same to her for distracting you."

Etienne shook his head, puzzled. "I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about."

"Oh come off it, boy," she laughed. "I know young love when I see it!"

He grinned amused. "I think you have finally lost your last marble, old woman."

"Really?" la Monge asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly. "Times have changed, I suppose. Last I knew, when a boy your age daydreams all day, runs off to unknown places in the night, and gets into as many brawls as you have lately, there is a lady friend involved somehow."

Etienne sat in silence for a minute; she was at least half right. Over the past week he constantly returned to the tavern whenever he found a few moments to himself, preferably during the afternoon hours. His master refused to ride about in the daylight, and the technicality called "lunch" proved to be a great help when it came to excuses. He could not help it; surely the girl was bound to come back there eventually.

Last week was the only time she caught him watching her, and he smiled a bit remembering the first. As usual, she was on the arm of another man, laughing and enjoying herself…she did have an amazing smile. She was beautiful in general, more so than any girl her age. That was the only thing he knew about her, that there was a five year difference between them. Really smooth, Romeo, he thought sarcastically, as if that would help him now. He knew how old she was, but her name and where she lived was still a mystery, one that he was desperate to solve.

"Should I be preparing my aim again?" la Monge interrupted, holding up the spoon to prove her point.

"No," Etienne laughed. "I would not want you to miss and hit my mouth; I thought you might want to hear that you are right."

"Of course I am!" she nodded proudly. "It is my duty as the more sensible gender of our kind."

"You offend me!" he grinned. "I am being gentlemanly enough to admit it, and you wound me with such words?"

"Gentlemanly?" she huffed. "If you were, you would have told me who she is!"

"When I find out her name, I will."

"Oh even better!" la Monge squealed, intrigued as she sat beside him. "A love from afar!"

Etienne raised an eyebrow at her actions. "What do you take me for? A gossip monger?" In the hall, the clock struck noon, and he stood, moving towards the kitchen door. "Even if I was, there isn't any time for such blather; this knight is off to continue the quest to find her."

"Not like that you are not!" la Monge protested motherly. Quickly she licked her fingers, and reached for his hair. "You look positively atrocious!"

"Oh really now!" he groaned, pulling her hand away gently. "That never helps, and how old do you think I am? Six?"

La Monge sighed, giving him the once-over. "Very well, you look…decent. Although if I were her, no one could pay me enough to look at you."

Etienne grinned victoriously, "Je t'aime aussi, Madame."

With a quick, sweet kiss to her cheek, like a child would offer his grandmother, he raced to the door.


"LINA!"

The girl herself groaned as she continued her walk to each room, gathering laundry to be washed. The single voice she despised grew louder with every screeching call as it came closer and closer.

"LINA! ARE YOU HERE?"

"Louder, Picolette!" she shouted, "I do not think any surrounding villages heard you!"

Moments later, a small blonde girl of ten bounded into the room. "You could have simply said 'I am in here!'," she scoffed childishly.

Lina rolled her eyes with a sigh. Picolette was the daughter of her godparents, Angelique and Fife. When Lina was little, the two were inseparable, but as the years passed and their age difference really began to show, there were moments she wanted nothing more than to strangle the runt. With every passing year, she prayed Picolette would finally display the slightest bit of maturity, but it was no use. She only grew more irritating.

Lina stopped as if to listen for something. "Was that your mother I just heard calling you?"

Picolette shrugged. "I did not hear anything."

"Well listen closer before I put you in my basket, and drown you with the laundry!"

The small girl folded her arms, glaring at her. "And just how much good will that do?"

Lina brushed past her. "Believe me, you do not want an answer to that question."

Picolette gasped indignantly. Following her into the hall, she threatened, "Fine…I am going to tell."

Under normal circumstances, Lina would have let the words in one ear and out the other. However, that was before the night at the tavern when she could have been pardoned for her words with a simple "You are older and should know better."

Turning to face her petite nemesis, Lina slowly started to walk towards her. "You would not dare…"

Picolette took a step backwards in time with Lina's advances before breaking into a run towards the staircase. "MAMAN!"

Downstairs in the den, Angelique and Babette glanced at the door, and then to the clock.

"In three, two, one," they counted in unison just as Picolette slid into the room and behind her mother for shelter. Babette pulled Lina to a halt a few seconds later.

"Maman, she is going to drown me!" the child whined, pulling Angelique's skirt over her face to hide.

"If she would leave me alone, I would not have to!" Lina argued in defense. "Some of us have responsibilities around here!"

Angelique grinned to her friend. "Our kind words have descended upon the next generation; I believe a celebration is in order."

Babette smiled. "I am impressed; I never threatened to drown you."

"No, but you did try to hang me."

"On a tree like an ornament, yes; do not make your daughter frightened of me."

"I hate to intrude upon these lovely memories," Lina drawled sarcastically. "But will someone please just tell us to grow up so I may continue the laundry?"

Babette nodded, "We would, but Picolette was only doing what we told her to do."

Lina narrowed her eyes angrily. "Quoi?"

"She is right," Angelique agreed, a smirk playing about her lips. "There is an early orchestra rehearsal today, and I have to begin organizing the décor for L'Celébration d'Été this afternoon. It is a few months away, but perfection takes precision and planning. Your mother suggested that Picolette stay with you for the day."

As if Lumière and Babette watching her every move for the past week was not enough, now this! Lina bit her lip, trying to force a smile. "Oh…she did…wonderful."

Babette patted her shoulder, her smile a little too sweet for anyone to believe it was genuine. "I knew you would not mind."

"Not at all," Lina nodded, gritting her teeth tightly as she mirrored the smile. Turning to Picolette, she sighed. "All right, pipsqueak, we have laundry to do. Come on."

"I am not a pipsqueak!" Picolette protested, following close behind her as she left.

Angelique turned to Babette. "Are you certain that was not too hard on her?"

"One day will not kill her," she replied casually as they went about their work again.


"Another one done," Lina said, handing Picolette a soaked shirt.

Outside, the warm spring sun shone bright in the sky as the girls sat attending to their work. As Lina scrubbed the clothes on the washboard, Picolette stood on a small stool hanging them up to dry. After she was sure the shirt was secure on the line, the younger girl walked back and sat beside her older companion.

"Lina?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you hate me?"

Lina looked up at her suddenly. "No!" she said, "What makes you think that?"

Picolette gave her a look. "You wanted to drown me!"

Lina sighed, determined to learn how to control her words before she spoke. "You know I did not mean it, or anything nasty I say for that matter."

"But you always say things like that," Picolette replied quietly, lowering her eyes.

Lina bit her lip, smiling after a quiet moment. "Well…I am only following the rules."

"What rules?" the child asked.

"You know, the rules!" Lina said, gathering another shirt to scrub. "Big kids have to be tough on little ones, everyone knows that. It is illegal if we do not."

"I am not a little kid," Picolette pouted, crossing her arms.

"But you are not officially a big one until you turn thirteen."

The pout remained, but Picolette nodded with more understanding. "All right, but when I turn thirteen, you will be nicer? And you will lighten up a bit before then? Promise?"

"I promise," Lina smiled, tossing her the finished shirt. "Now go hang this up to dry, pipsqueak."

"I am not a pipsqueak!" Picolette shouted with a grin as she walked to the line. As she reached the line from atop her stool to hang it, however, she saw a rider approaching, and raced over to see who it was.

"Can I help you, monsieur?" she asked as if she were the lady of the house.

The man smiled kindly as he leapt from his horse. "Oui, ma petite mademoiselle. My name is Etienne, and I came here…to meet with someone."

Picolette circled him slowly, as if to determine if this stranger was true to his word. "One second," she responded cautiously, before turning in Lina's direction. "LINA! COME HERE!"

"Keep your voice down!" Lina called, already walking to join them. Seeing Etienne, she offered a startled expression. "Well, quelle surprise, monsieur; you are certainly looking much better."

Etienne grinned, reaching for her hand to kiss it respectfully. "I am honored that you remember me, mademoiselle."

For the first time in a long time, Lina blushed a deep red as she took back her hand. "It is difficult to forget such a hero as yourself. What brings you here?"

"I actually…came looking for you," he answered, subtly gesturing to Picolette before he continued.

Lina nodded in understanding. "Pipsqueak, could you go inside? Just for a minute?"

Picolette put her hands on her hips knowingly. "You can't talk to him! Your maman told mine if she caught you with a boy that she would—"

Lina covered her mouth quickly with a smile, roughly stroking her hair as if she were a lapdog. "Children, what are we going to do with them? Excusez moi, un moment!" Pulling Picolette out of his hearing range, she ordered, "Listen, I know what my maman said, but I swear it will just be for a few minutes. Can you please just go inside and keep your mouth shut until I am done? Please?"

Picolette huffed a deep breath, but nodded. "All right, I will." She glanced over at Etienne quickly before she whispered, "He looks nice, and he's cute! Don't mess this one up!"

Lina could not contain a laugh. "I promise I won't; now go on!"

When they were alone again, Lina shook her head apologetically. "I am sorry about that."

"Oh not at all," Etienne replied reassuringly. "She was not a bother, but she is a child…and I did not think she would want to be around…" He paused for a moment, and grinned. "I am not making any sense, I know."

Lina smiled, surprisingly a bit shy. Not since she was first complimented by a man had she felt like this. "I know what you mean." She gestured him to follow as she walked. "Be honest, monsieur…?"

"Etienne, mademoiselle."

Lina nodded. "Monsieur Etienne. That is interesting actually; I used to know someone with that name when I was a little girl."

"A beautiful woman must know many men with a similar name." He paused after he spoke, adding quickly, "I mean…or I did not mean that offensively! Forgive me."

"No offense taken," she said gently, taking a minute to look at him without any of his bruises. He was definitely good looking. Light hair, dark eyes…no, she could not fall for him this easily, not like the rest. "Monsieur Etienne, why have you come here? How did you even find us?"

"I told you, mademoiselle, I came to see you," he answered. "I spoke to someone who knew you at the tavern, and he told me you served the prince in the Chateau Mountains. My apologies for being so forward, but I have been hoping you would have come back to the tavern to see me. Been waiting forever to…thank you in a much more pleasant situation than the other night…for your father's kind offer, I mean."

Lina rolled her eyes. "You would have been waiting a long time."

"Not allowed to return?" he asked, knowingly.

She shook her head. "Not until I am an old spinster, that's for sure."

He laughed. "Then I am glad I was able to find you."

Lina grinned. "I am too…on his behalf of course."

He smiled pleasantly. "Of course."

Lina glanced at the ground before looking to the windows to make certain no one could see her. She desperately wanted to spend more time with him, but she knew Picolette all too well. The poor child was easily conned into telling all should their parents make her feel guilty enough.

"Monsieur Etienne, would you…be interested in joining us tonight?" she asked. "For dinner perhaps? I am certain my father would like to hear…a personal thank you."

"I would be honored, mademoiselle," he said. "Name the hour, and I will be here."

She thought for a moment, going over the dinner schedule in her head. "Is eight o'clock all right? That is our time to sit and eat amongst ourselves."

"Absolument," he agreed.

Lina nodded in confirmation. "Promptly at eight it is."

"I will be here. For now, I shall leave you to your work." He grinned, bowing politely leaving a proper kiss on her hand once again. "Until tonight."

Lina stroked her hand when he let it go with an absentminded smile. "I can not wait."

As she walked with him back to his horse, he climbed on and asked, "Before I forget, what lovely name do I give tonight when they ask who I am looking for?"

"Tell them Lina invited you."

He nodded, his smile growing. "Very well, Mademoiselle Lina; a bientôt."