Mrs. Potts ran to her son and took him into her arms. "Chip! My poor boy! Where are you hurt?"
"Just tired," he answered, panting for breath. "Ran too far."
She grabbed his ear. "Charles Potts! You have a lot of explaining to do! Where were you?! You know it's not safe to leave the castle!"
"Spying." He winced. "The rebellious peasants are about my age."
"Charles Ulysses Potts! I ought to go for the wooden spoon!"
"I'm not a child anymore!" Chip protested. "I had to do something!"
Mrs. Potts sighed, but she released his ear. "I know you're not a child, but you'll always be my little boy. You'll understand my worry in a few years when you meet a young lady and have a little person of your own who causes you countless nights without sleep."
Chip rubbed his red ear. "They'll be here at midnight. They want to surprise us."
Louvre went into the kitchen and brought a bowl and a comb. Without a word, Louis seated himself on a stool while his sister dipped the comb into the bowl and began to comb some sort of liquid through his hair.
"What shall we do?" Cogsworth asked.
"Catherine," Louis began, "do you know what to do if you see a red flag?"
Catherine Potts nodded.
"And black?"
She nodded again.
"And if you see a fleur-de-lis?"
"Yes."
Mrs. Potts crossed her arms. "What's this nonsense about flags?!"
"Red means to cut and dye the royal family's hair and sneak them to England by night. She will not be alone at Notre Dame. Too dangerous. My men will accompany her. Black means the royals have no choice but to flee across the ocean, possibly never to see their beloved homeland again, but what choice is there? The fleur-de-lis means the revolution has ended, and the royals can return."
Louvre finished combing her brother's hair and carefully wrapped it in a towel, not spilling so much as a drop on her hands or clothing. Catherine embraced her mother and hurried through the forest, accompanied by its caretakers, on her way to Paris.
"Lumière, can you make sure all servants have the appearance of being lower class?" Louis asked. "It's only the servants who risk becoming aristocracy who pose a threat to the rebellion. I also need you to bring me one of the king's finest outfits."
Lumière crossed his arms. "What scheme are you planning?"
"They want King Adam to be decapitated in Paris. If I give them what they want, they should leave the rest of you in peace long enough for some manner of diplomatic solution to be reached."
Cogsworth frowned. "You'd risk your life for the royal family?"
"I will have finally paid for my error years ago." Louis took my hands in his. "Until things are sorted out, you're the ruler of France. Take care of yourself. Above all, don't let them notice you."
I hadn't realized I was crying until he gently wiped away the tears that coursed down my face.
"All will be as it should. You'll marry a nobleman who truly deserves you, and you'll work together to care for your people. My contract clearly states that my death frees the other forest caretakers from a life of servitude, so they'll finally be able to make good lives for themselves. I'll still guard your family in spirit, so I'll never truly leave. I've known since I was younger than Chip that I was living on borrowed time and that I would eventually be beheaded. We can't escape our destiny."
When he removed the towel from his head and rinsed his hair, Louis almost could have passed for Adam, especially after he slipped away to change into my cousin's suit. However, I noticed his eyes were still hazel rather than blue.
"All part of the plan," Louis assured me. "No need to assume the worst, fairest one. Even now, my fate is not yet sealed."
The door opened, and a mob of peasant adolescents stormed into the castle.
"This is too easy!" one of them remarked. "I heard King Adam's forest workers were second to none, but we didn't meet any resistance. I'm thinking this is a trap."
"No trap," Louis replied evenly. "I know you have grown angry with me, so I propose the following bargain: If I willingly surrender and allow you to make a public example of me, will you speak calmly with the next ruler and reach a peaceful solution? Will you allow my successor the chance to solve the problems faced by our people? You don't want to be shot in battle or executed for treason. You want peace as much as we do. Is it not so?"
The peasants whispered among themselves.
"You'll come to Paris with us?" the leader asked.
Louis nodded.
"Very well. And we want your promise in writing before you die, and you have to declare it before all of Paris."
"Agreed…but only if you promise my demise shall come by my sister's sword, for it is the most skilled in all of Europe."