Esmeralda looked at herself in the mirror. She stared deep into her own eyes, but she was almost unable to recognize herself.
How had she ended up in this place? In this position?
It almost felt like it was all a bad dream, a nightmare from which she would wake up any moment now, opening her eyes in her tent in the Court of Miracles.
But, as much as she tried, her eyes kept opening in the mirror in front of her, in that dark chamber, inside that dark palace, within her dark new life.
She missed her family so much. She missed arguing passionately with Clopin knowing that nothing would break them apart, and that there was nothing that some music and dancing couldn't solve. She missed the sound of the children laughing and playing around, while their mothers chattered lively. She missed that warm feeling of community.
And still, she had been willing to give it all up for something she missed even more. Ever since she had met Claude, she had felt the belonging she had been craving her entire life. She had felt more herself than ever. And she had loved like she didn't know was possible.
But now she had lost both of her lives, only to become a prisoner to a ruthless, conniving man who intended to make her his trophy wife. Who wanted her to stay silent and pretty while he lived at the expense of the innocent people of her city. As she had told him in that dreadful dance night, she would rather die.
But she had already costed Frollo too much. She couldn't be guilty of his death as well. Let alone a death without honor, executed for treason. She had hoped that Frollo would leave, leave Paris and her, so he wouldn't have to suffer waiting for a solution that didn't seem possible.
However, when she saw his determination at breakfast, and she suspected he was planning on leaving, it wasn't relief what filled her heart, but terror. She knew in that moment that if he left, she would lose the little will to live she had left. It were those brief, fleeting moments in which their eyes met during a meal, the only fuel that kept her heart pumping. Feeling that somehow, their connection still prevailed over anything that had been thrown their way. But if he left… the bond would be broken.
So she had been selfish, and she had decided to write him a note, blessing Quasimodo with all her heart for teaching her how to write, now that she was unable to communicate with him any other way. She didn't know if Frollo would find it. She didn't know if it would change his mind. And, if she was to be a good person, she should wish he didn't. That way, he would be safe. But the truth is, she wanted him to find it, and to wait for her. Even if that meant, telling him something that could lead to his demise. What kind of person did this make of her?
Anyway, Frollo had said he would be gone for the day, so she wouldn't know until the engagement party if he had chosen to leave for good or he had returned to the Palace and waited for her.
Esmeralda took a deep breath, and she looked up, to the dark ceiling, hesitant.
- I don't know if you can hear me… or if you're even there. - she whispered, feeling at once stupid and hopeful. - I don't know if you would listen to a gypsy's prayer… But if you won't do it for me, do it for him. He's been faithful to you his entire life. God, please… help us. I trust you know better than I… for I don't know. - tears began to make her vision blurry. - I truly don't know what's best right now… But if you're there, then you brought us together. So please… don't abandon us now.
For an instant, she waited for a sign. A surge of light, or a silent whisper. Anything.
But nothing happened.
Maybe there was no one listening. Or maybe whoever was, didn't care about them at all. She would never know.
She sighed, defeated, and turned around towards the door.
Her engagement party awaited her.
It was the longest day of his life.
Frollo wandered outside of the city with his horse, he walked along the river, he sat under the trees. He had told Lefebvre that he had matters to attend until sunset, so that gave him a few hours to decide. His small luggage was tied to Snowball's saddle. If he chose to leave, he could do it now and he wouldn't have to set foot in the palace again.
Part of him desperately wanted to see Esmeralda that night. To hear something that would change everything, something that gave him an option. But he was also terrified that the secret meeting was nothing but a way for her to alleviate her guilt over choosing someone else, just one private goodbye for the sake of what they had been, before heading off to marry the Minister. And if that's what happened, he would regret not having left in the morning, without carrying that added wound in his already broken heart.
What were the odds? What reason could she possibly have to consent being with Lefebvre if she didn't want him? What threat could he have made? Frollo could only guess it had something to do with the gypsies, but in that case, why hadn't she told him so he could warn the King?
Maybe he was fooling himself, trying to find an unlikely reason for which she was being forced… instead of considering she wasn't.
But then again, what she said about the ring…
Frollo shook his head. There was no use in pondering. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave if there was still any trace of doubt about her still loving him. He needed to know for sure, even if that meant hearing the most heart – shattering rejection of all.
So, when the sun began going down, he pointed his horse back to the palace. For better or worse, it would all end tonight.
Gaspard Lefebvre looked like a proud peacock. His puffed chest made the buttons on his vest look like they were about to burst. His hand was wrapped around Esmeralda's wrist like an iron handcuff, making sure she didn't left his side as he showed her off like a jewel to any and every person in the room.
Esmeralda felt like a ghost, an invisible spirit trapped in a body that could only smile and nod like an idiot. No one saw her beyond her looks. No one cared or even noticed the deep sadness in her eyes. As long as her smile was on, everything looked fine to them.
As the minutes went by, her heart sunk deeper and deeper. Her eyes kept checking the door obsessively, but the only person she was waiting to see hadn't showed up.
- My dear? - Lefebvre called her, tightening his grip on her arm to catch her attention.
- Sorry, what? - she said, completely baffled.
- Mrs Chauper was just wishing us a fruitful marriage. - he explained, pointing towards the woman in front of them. - And I said I can't wait to see our children's faces, don't you?
Her stomach protested violently against his words. It took her a great effort to smile convincingly, though gritting her teeth with disgust.
As the woman left, Lefebvre leaned closer.
- You know, all these people are here to celebrate us. It's a little rude to be daydreaming right now. - he scolded her, and though his smile was condescending, his eyes looked menacing. - We wouldn't want anyone thinking there's something wrong with the bride-to-be, right?
- Right. - she responded, feeling a boiling rage building up inside her. But once again, she was forced to repress it, and cool herself off. - It won't happen ag…. - her words vanished in the air as her stomach leaped again, but this time with joy.
Frollo had just walked in. He hadn't left! He must have found her note.
Their eyes met across the room.
He didn't noticed the way Gaspard was grabbing her arm in a likely painful way. He didn't notice how close his mouth was to her ear.
In fact, he didn't notice Gaspard was there at all. Or anyone else.
He just saw her bright, emerald eyes, shining like they hadn't in an entire month, when she saw him coming in. He just saw that wide, genuine smile of hers that was able to light up an entire room and leave everyone momentarily blind to anything else but her.
The look of pure joy and relief in her face was so palpable that any trace of doubt disappeared instantly, like it had never existed.
He didn't know how, or why, or what was going on. But he knew it was her. It was them. It had always been.
The moment was broken when someone came to greet him, but it had been enough for him to be able to stand the whole evening of socializing and listening to the engagement talk with a calm heart and mind.
This was just a charade.
When it was over, he would meet her at the stables and she would explain everything. He was sure of it.
With this certainty, the evening flew by. He even enjoyed the exquisite plates Gaspard had ordered the servants to prepare. He felt more optimistic than he had in a long time, probably since that moment right before they had been summoned by the King. It would all be alright.
Finally, a couple hours later, the last of the guests decided it was time to leave. Frollo thought fast. It was better if he used that moment, while they were saying goodbye to the engaged couple, to sneak out silently. If he waited further, Gaspard would probably want to talk to him, scold him for being late... and then it would be harder to avoid the guards, who were still inside the dining room, keeping watch on the visitors.
So without making any fuss, he subtly walked out the door, glad that neither of the Lefebvre brothers had noticed them, and he rushed to the stables. He would wait there, in Snowball's box, until she was able to get to him. She must have planned a way to escape the guard's vigilance somehow, since she had had the entire day to think about it.
The first twenty minutes were easy. He just waited there, with his mind picturing how the few people left in the Palace said their goodbyes and gathered their capes and coats to go into the dark Parisian night. Surely, Lefebvre would want to have a moment alone with his fiancee before heading off to his room, so it wasn't hard to wait another ten minutes after that.
However, when half an hour had gone by, Frollo began feeling restless. How long was this going to take? What would be her plan to avoid the guards? Maybe she wanted to wait until everyone was sleeping?
But then she wouldn't have said "after the party", but "tonight"… right?
Trust her, he repeated himself. But as much as he wanted to, as the minutes went by, the option he didn't want to contemplate came crawling back. What if she wasn't coming? Maybe she hadn't been able to ditch the guards. Or maybe… maybe she had changed her mind.
He didn't want to assume anything, but the truth was, time kept passing and there was no trace of Esmeralda, whatever the reason behind it.
Eventually, Frollo realized he had a decision to make.
His luggage was still on Snowball's back. He had left it there, just in case it came to this.
Because he knew Lefebvre wouldn't allow him to leave that easily. If he decided to go, he needed to do it secretly, so when the Minister realized his absence, he would be at least a day ahead of any messenger or soldier Lefebvre might send after him.
Frollo knew if he got to the King first, everything would work out in his favor. But Lefebvre was capable of anything to get his way, so it was crucial that he left with enough head start.
That's why that morning he had justified himself with having to spend the whole day out. But he wouldn't be able to use that excuse again for a while without raising suspicions.
So now was the perfect moment. He would have all night to ride for a long distance, and by the time Lefebvre realized he was truly gone, he would be far ahead.
He felt a sting of guilt. If he left, wouldn't he be betraying Esmeralda?
But then again… she was the one that had left him hanging there, waiting in a stable.
Not to mention the one getting engaged to someone else. As much as she had smiled when their eyes met, Frollo's feelings remained the same; a fleeting smile just wasn't enough for him to survive on, while he was forced to share his days with Lefebvre and the sight of them together.
So he finally made a choice. He would wait until the bells of Notre Dame rang at midnight. If she wasn't there by then, he would climb on Snowball's saddle and leave forever.