The carriage was already waiting for them at the front door when they finished their breakfast. The three of them climbed inside and Esmeralda sat across the two men. Frollo was wearing his elegant Sunday clothes, but he looked like a beggar in comparison to Gaspard Lefebvre's extravagant colorful outfit. He wanted to make sure no one at the cathedral would leave without having noticed him. She was wearing the same simple blue dress she had wore to diner the night before, with a dark blue cape over it.
They were silent during the brief journey from the palace of justice to the cathedral, though it was evident that the emissary was deeply lost in his thoughts, as if he was plotting something. When they got to Notre Dame, he was the first to descend the carriage, and before Frollo could follow, Esmeralda grabbed his arm.
- I don't think this is a good idea. - she whispered with worry.
- Why not? - he replied anxiously, hoping Lefebvre wouldn't notice their delay.
- What if the archdeacon sees me and says something about me being the mysterious dancer?
Frollo frowned, realizing she was right.
- But you have to come with us. If you don't, Lefebvre will get suspicious.
- I know… - she said, biting her lower lip, which sent an inappropriately timed wave of heat to Frollo's lower regions. - Oh, I know! - she exclaimed, suddenly proud of herself.
She descended the carriage steps and called the emissary, who was looking up, admiring the cathedral in broad daylight.
- Mr Lefebvre! Please come – she asked with a discreet hand gesture.
The man approached her and she leaned closer with secrecy.
- You know how we said we don't want people knowing we're working together, right?- she whispered near his ear.
The man seemed delighted by her proximity and her intimate attitude.
- Right.- he nodded with complicity.
- This is why I won't be sitting with you in mass. The minister has a reserved bench at the front, but I must not be seen with you yet. So I will sit at the back, among the commoners.
- Oh, I see. - Gaspard whispered back. - You can trust my discretion, my dear.
- I knew I could count on you. - she said with a warm smile.
Then, she threw Frollo a meaningful look, and she waited by the carriage until the two men entered the church. She then followed them inside at a safe distance, and looked for an available spot in the back benches.
The truth was, she had never been very religious, and this was the third mass in her whole life that she had attended. She felt it was a waste of time, and a sad display of people's hypocrisy. The same people that surrounded her now, dressed in their best attires and holding their heads down in apparent respect, were the ones that had mocked her people her entire life. They were also the ones that criticized the gypsies for their "unholy" habits, only to behave ten times worse than them at the annual festival. She knew there were good people among them as well, honest and kind and hardworking. However, she couldn't shake the feeling that it all was a parade of fools. She felt suffocated by the smell of the multitude and the human heat their bodies emitted when stuffed all together in the same space.
Also, it didn't help that she couldn't understand a word of Latin, the language in which the mass was spoken.
So it felt like ages later when the archdeacon finally pronounced his closing blessing, and the people around her started to get up and move. She was practically dragged outside by the multitude, and though she tried gazing between their heads in search for Frollo, there was no trace of the judge or the emissary.
When she was finally in the open air, she realized that the real lure of mass for most people was the chance of social interaction at the end of it. The main square was filled with people conversing loudly in small groups, commenting about one another, and throwing looks like darts at anyone who seemed different. Including herself. She knew some of the people had recognized her as the gypsy dancer from the festival, and were shocked to see her there, looking so elegantly dressed. There had been rumors about her staying at the palace of justice with the Minister, and her formal attire seemed to confirm them.
But Esmeralda wasn't paying attention to the murmurs around her, for her eyes were fixed on the colorful caravan in the west corner of the square. There, a crowd of children were sitting in the floor and clapping their hands at the puppeteer show.
Her heart started racing in her chest. She wanted to go over there and see Clopin again, try talking to him and saying she had received his gift and was very grateful for it. But her feet were nailed to the ground. She feared his reaction, and she couldn't risk causing a scene while the emissary was still around. She would have to wait, even if her heart was breaking with longing.
In that moment she heard a familiar voice among the multitude, and when she turned around, she saw Frollo exiting the cathedral with Lefebvre and the archdeacon. The judge was speaking loudly on purpose to alert her of their presence. She sneaked through a small group of people and surrounded them. Frollo followed her with his gaze.
- Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen. - he mumbled, and followed her back into the church.
- Pst! Here! - she called him in a whisper, from the dark corner that led to the tower's spiral staircase. He rushed to her side.
- You should stay here for now. - he whispered back, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. - The archdeacon is with Lefebvre, it's crucial that he doesn't see you.
- Alright. I will wait upstairs, with Quasimodo. Meet me there later? - she asked.
- Yes. I'll see you there. - Frollo answered, already leaving.
The few people that remained in the inside of the church moved aside when they saw him coming. He walked decidedly towards the priest and the emissary, who seemed to be very interested in whatever the archdeacon was talking about.
- Forgive me. - he said, re-joining the conversation. Gaspard looked up and behind him, searching for Esmeralda, whom he assumed Frollo had just checked upon.
- The archdeacon was telling me the most interesting story – Lefebvre bragged.
- Is that so? - Frollo asked absently. He was watching Clopin, who had jumped outside his caravan and was passing his hat around to collect some coins. As if the gypsy could feel his dark stare upon him, he raised his eyes and looked straight at Frollo.
Gaspard noticed Frollo's absent mind and followed the direction of his gaze. He saw the colorfully dressed puppeteer staring at the judge.
- They don't seem very glad to see you. - he commented casually, though Frollo could hear the underlying satisfaction in his tone.
- Well, that's why we got an intermediary. - Frollo stated between his gritted teeth.
The archdeacon looked confused, he couldn't tell what was going on, but he figured it would be a personal matter between the two men, and mumbling a gentle goodbye, he took off.
- So… I suppose you'll be leaving as well. - Frollo said, hopeful.
- Yes. I must get back to the King, he must be eagerly waiting for my update. - Lefebvre responded with an enigmatic smile. He seemed suspiciously satisfied, all of a sudden.
But Frollo knew that they had avoided the worst, so whatever the emissary was up to, it couldn't be that bad. He decided not to worry about it any further.
- Then, I wish you a safe and comfortable journey, Mr Lefebvre. It's been a pleasure having you here. - he lied blatantly with a polite tone and expression.
- Oh, I assure you the pleasure's been mine. However, I wouldn't like to leave without bidding farewell to your beautiful diplomatic friend. - the emissary said, looking around avidly.
- I'm afraid that won't be possible. She was forced to leave early. But she sends you her warm regards. - Frollo explained, hiding the pleasure it gave him to deny him that.
- Such a pity! - Lefebvre said, dramatically. - Well… in any case… let her know I hope to see her again very soon. - once again, the emissary displayed an enigmatic smile that made Frollo uncomfortable.
- Of course. - he nodded, hoping the man would just leave already.
The emissary bowed respectfully, and with a cold, fake smile, he waved the judge goodbye and climbed onto his carriage. Frollo watched it disappear behind the corner, and only then he was able to take a full deep breath.
- Hi Master! - Quasimodo greeted him when he reached his quarters. Both the bell ringer and Esmeralda walked towards him eagerly.
- Hi, my boy. - Frollo said kindly, placing a hand on Quasimodo's shoulder.
- How did it go? - Esmeralda asked anxiously.
- It was all well. - Frollo reassured her. - The archdeacon didn't mention you at all. And Lefebvre is already gone. It's over. - he said, relieved.
- Yes! We did it! - Esmeralda clapped, celebrating. She walked towards him, extending her hand to grab his in a complicity gesture, but Frollo immediately flinched away.
She looked at him, puzzled, and then realized Quasimodo's weird expression watching the whole thing. She felt embarrassed for getting carried away in her excessive familiarity. She retired her hand, while her cheeks started reddening. It was one thing to be alone with Frollo, and a very different one to expect him to behave the same way in the presence of other people. Though, she thought irritated, this was Quasimodo, for God's sake. If they couldn't trust him, who would they trust?
The lad noticed the sudden tension between them and tried to break the ice:
- Are you hungry? I have some food. - he offered happily.
- I could eat… - said Esmeralda, hesitating.
- I don't see why not. - Frollo stated, and he walked past her towards the table.
Her irritation grew with his indifference, but she was determined not to let it ruin the good mood that had followed Lefebvre's departure. So she inhaled deeply and gathered her patience, displaying a smile and following Frollo to the table.
Quasimodo served them some water and a piece of bread and cheese for each. He sat across them and smiled at the sight of the judge and the gypsy sitting side by side, concentrated in their food. It was so weird to see them together in such a day-to-day situation, instead of the dramatic ones he was used to seeing them in, so far.
But it felt nice. Even if it made no rational sense, Quasimodo felt for the first time in his life, like he had a family. Not just separated people who cared about him, but people who also cared about each other. It was a foreign but warm feeling.
- So… was it hard to endure? - Frollo asked Esmeralda, out of the blue.
- What was? - Esmeralda inquired, baffled.
- Attending Sunday mass. I don't have you for a very religious person.
- You're right… I'm not. - Esmeralda said cautiously. She knew the significant role that religion played in Frollo's life. The man was looking at her in an indecipherable way, and she wasn't able to tell if he was judging her or just listening with an open mind. However, she felt the need to explain further. - To be honest… I do believe in some higher power. Call it God, or whatever you want. I believe there's Someone up there… Someone who cares for us. Who loves us. It's like… I can feel it sometimes, you know?
Quasimodo was also listening carefully. From his earliest memories, he could remember Frollo talking to him about God, reading him the Bible and explaining God's rules, all about good and evil and sin. He had believed every word the judge had told him. Of course, he had no one else to talk to, or to run the information by. His world was limited to what Frollo told him. But he had never questioned it, for it made sense to him. He considered himself a religious person. He lived in a cathedral, didn't he?
He knew there were atheists and pagans, of course. Poor misguided souls, as Frollo had described them, who lived in sin and turned their backs at God's mercy. But it never occurred to him that someone could have a different version of God. He deeply respected and admired Esmeralda, and was eager to hear more about her view on the matter.
- So… - the lad asked reflectively - If you do believe in God… why don't you come to church?
Esmeralda bit her lip, trying to find the correct words to give him a proper answer.
- I guess it's because… I don't think I need to. If there is a God, he must be everywhere, right? I can talk to Him while walking through the forest, or in the city streets, or gazing at the sun. And I believe He wants me to feel free and happy. To love others… I mean, isn't that what the Bible says? I don't see the point in coming to listen to a bunch of Latin prayers I don't understand, surrounded by a bunch of people who don't live by what they're preaching.
Quasimodo nodded, pondering her words. She looked at Frollo, afraid she might have hurt his feelings. But the judge seemed to be deep in his own thoughts.
He was recalling what he had lived during his near-death experience. He remembered her mother's words when he asked him about God; "You got it all wrong, my dear. He's not who you think either. He's not even a he" Maybe Esmeralda's words were closer to the truth than she realized? Or maybe it had all been an hallucination. Though it had felt realer than almost anything he had ever experienced being alive. However, he had never mentioned it to anyone, and he still wasn't ready to do it now.
- Excuse me. - he said, absently. - I'm going to get some fresh air. - he announced, getting up from his chair and walking towards the exterior corridor.
- Do you think I offended him? - Esmeralda whispered to Quasimodo, frowning with concern.
- I'm not sure. - Quasimodo answered honestly. - He's very sensitive about religion.
- Why do you think that is? - she inquired, intrigued.
- Well… I've always thought it's because he finds great comfort in God, you know? In knowing there's Someone in charge, Someone powerful but compassionate, that can tell him what to do or not do.
- Do you think it's because he lost his parents? - she asked in a whisper, looking at the door to make sure Frollo couldn't hear them.
Quasimodo seemed surprised that he had told her that part of his story. But he smiled, glad that the judge was slowly opening up.
- Yes, that may be part of the reason. But I think it's more than that. Though it may be better that he tells you himself.
- Oh, come on! You can't say that and then not tell me! - She protested with an exasperated sigh.
- Alright! - Quasimodo said, hushing her. - Lower your voice!
- Sorry. - she whispered, leaning forward to get closer and listen to him better.
- I believe Frollo finds in God the father figure he always lacked. I mean, even when his father was alive.
- Why? - she asked, baffled.
Quasimodo hesitated for a second, but after taking a quick glance at the empty door, he leaned closer and explained:
- Frollo's father abused him and his brother. He was violent and punished them hard whenever they did something wrong. Frollo usually tried to defend his brother, and he would end up receiving a double punishment. He still has… marks, on his body.
Esmeralda was covering her mouth with her hand, horrified.
- You can never tell him I told you that. I think I'm the only one that knows. - Quasimodo begged quickly.
Esmeralda shook her head, in a reassuring gesture to let him know he shouldn't worry about that. But her mind was still trying to process this new piece of information. She immediately thought about Pat, and then it became crystal clear why Frollo had reacted the way he did when witnessing Pat's father abusing him. It probably also explained why he had chosen to adopt and protect a deformed baby when it was abandoned at Notre Dame's steps.
Then, they heard Frollo's footsteps coming back inside, and they both leaned back, Esmeralda quickly wiping the tears that had rolled down her cheeks.
- Are you okay? - she asked him carefully.
- I am. - he responded with a calmed tone. He then noticed her reddened eyes. - Are you?
- Yes – she assured, trying to smile. - I was just thinking… I would love to come to mass with you someday. I mean, sitting with you, so you can talk me through it. Maybe I would understand you better.
Frollo seemed delightfully surprised by her request, though he lifted his eyebrow skeptically:
- I don't think you mean that. - he affirmed.
Esmeralda chuckled, lowering her head.
- Well, maybe not exactly. But I do wish to understand how you feel about it. I just don't like the part with the priest and all the people. If only we could have the cathedral to ourselves… - she joked, and to her relief, she saw an honest smile appear in Frollo's face too.
Quasimodo intervened:
- Maybe when I'm done teaching you how to read and write, we can get started on Latin lessons.
- Oh, I almost forgot! - said Esmeralda suddenly. She reached in her pocket and took out a piece of parchment, where she had written Quasimodo's name. - I made you this yesterday.
Quasimodo took her gift and blushed when he read the paper.
- Thank you, this is beautiful- he said hoarsely. - I'm so proud of you. You should keep writing!
- Maybe you two should get some practice time. - Frollo pointed out, and then he asked Esmeralda - Why don't you stay here for the afternoon while I take care of some business? We can meet at the palace for dinner.
- Well… yes, alright. - Esmeralda agreed, though slightly dissapointed. She had hoped that now the emissary was gone, they could finally get some alone time and talk about everything they had been setting aside. But if she had waited until now, a few more hours wouldn't hurt. And she was eager to spend some time with Quasimodo anyway.
The lad smiled widely, and his joy became infectious.
- I'll see you for dinner then. - she said to Frollo, and the man nodded and left without saying anything else.
She found his goodbye so cold, but she told herself that they would have plenty of time to talk about it later. The emissary was gone, that's what mattered. Now, they would finally be able to focus on themselves.
With that comforting thought, she followed Quasimodo back to the table, where the bell ringer was getting the writing stuff ready, happier than ever to have everyone he loved safe and sound.