Disclaimer: "I do not own the Count of Monte Cristo, any of the characters, or any part of that franchise. Alexandre Dumas is the one who wrote the story, and all credit for that should be his. Any quotes from the 2002 movie version of this book belong to the producers, editors, writers, and so forth. I only own Hadlee, and any original content I make her do or say."

Chapter 5

Hadlee has never seen a finer house in all of Paris. Lanterns light every corner of the expansive outdoor estate beautifully. Statues and water fountains look as though they'd all been carved by only the finest of sculptors. And of course, her flowers add an excellent touch to the ambiance around this place. She's a little biased on that point, obviously… but still.

Her dress was certainly the plain one compared to everyone else's. One woman had a dress that, literally ever centimeter apart, there was another diamond in the fabric. Dresses that were poofy and spread a foot in any direction from the person wearing it. Hadlee had never understood such attire. The feathers in hats she could understand to an extent. There was an Oriental woman with a feather adorning her head that went perfectly with her attire. But other people… they looked like they had a flock of birds nesting in their hair.

Her own dress was dark green, like that of the trees deep within a forest. There was a sash that tied under her breasts that was black, which matched the black trim of the dress. But from there, the dress simply flowed smoothly to the ground. If not for the high heels she'd forced herself to wear beneath them, she would trip over the dress.

She'd thought of wearing a pair of boots. They would be beneath the dress, and even if a person saw the toe of it peek out, no one would really be able to tell the difference in what footwear she'd chosen for the evening. But in the end, she decided if she was going to do this, she would do it properly. Hence the heels, and the elbow length black gloves she was also wearing. Her burnt gold hair was piled in a bun at the back of her head, though several strands of curling waves spilled out to frame her face on either side.

Madame Villefort looked her up and down and laughed before going back to talk to the rest of her friends. No doubt about how she would be mistaken for a peasant and escorted back out of the place. Hadlee simply turned and went to walk further about the grounds. She knew she was talked about, and not in a good light. And she did not care. The only people whose opinions mattered were either far away, Albert, or some of Albert's friends.

Albert was the center of Hadlee's entire world. On that, there was no question. And Albert was smart enough to see that Hadlee had a way of knowing which people were truly worth trusting, and who should only be regarded as an enemy. All of his potential friends, therefore, had met her in some capacity before. Those that she liked and approved of, have remained forever. Those she did not… well, Albert didn't go out of his way to invite them back into his life. Some were a part of it regardless, due to family relations and ties. But Morrell's son, Maximilian, would forever remain Albert's truest friend, regardless of anything his father or mother ever had to say about it.

In any case, none of the people Hadlee cared about were here, so she occupies herself with enjoying the beauty of the house and grounds around her. She was smelling one of her flowers, when she felt the champagne glass she'd been drinking from get lightly taken from her hand. She turns to see one of the servants handing her another full glass, and then he bows deeply before leaving her to her thoughts again.

That had been happening all night as well. If she so much as muttered to herself that she was hungry, suddenly a servant appeared with a plate of hors d'oeuvres that she could eat. She had not been left with an empty champagne glass for more than a minute at a time. If someone came around with another one again, she may have to tell him she couldn't drink anymore. She still needed to be able to walk home after this.

She was heading back towards the main area of the party, loathe as she was to join the rest of the crowd. That's when the fireworks went off. Glorious and magnificent fireworks. Hadlee had never actually seen them up close before. It was a magnificent display of sound and light.

As the last ones went out, Jacopo takes a position above everyone on the pavilion, and says, "Ladies and Gentlemen. It is with great honor that I present to you, His Grace, the Count of Monte Cristo."

The hot air balloon was certainly something else. Certainly something Hadlee had never seen before. And judging from the gasping audience around her, very few of the other people here had either. Four servants slid down ropes from the basket attached to it with the precision of practiced acrobats or dancers, and aided in pulling down the balloon. And the balloon didn't simply carry an ordinary basket. Oh no. The round seat area was made of fine and polished wood, and as a door was opened and steps dropped down, everyone could see the inside was coated in a layer of fine, soft, red velvet.

The Count himself wore an overcoat, a fine silk shirt, and he walked with a walking stick and had a ring on each hand.

Hadlee saw all of this, as did everyone else. But to her, all of that was meaningless. For her, the striking thing she saw about him, were his eyes. Sharp blue eyes, that seemed to resemble those of a hawk or an owl. He carried in his very stride, the essence of assured superiority, but the small smile on his face said that he didn't really care if you knew he was better than you or not. All that mattered was that he knew it.

He approached the edge of the pavilion, looking down at all of the astonished guests. His eyes taking everything in. Blue eyes that were sharp and all-encompassing.

Eyes that seemed so familiar. Yet why should they appear that way? Hadlee is certain she's never met the Count of Monte Cristo before in her life. Even when she had been a welcome daughter of a Count herself… she doubts she would've been granted the privilege of standing before a man as wealthy and superior as this one.

The Count's simple statement of "Greetings", almost makes Hadlee want to laugh. For all the grandeur and ambiance that money could buy, the Count had a rather simple and calm way of being. He did not waste time explaining himself or his presence to the people. He simply greeted them, and then began to move on his way to join his own party.

Hadlee made no effort to try and approach him. For all his insistence that she attend his party, she did not have any desire to brave the swarm of people so she could say 'thank you'. If not tonight, she would tell him tomorrow, or at least tell his servants tomorrow, when they returned her flowers to her home.

Madame Villefort was introducing her husband, Monsieur Villefort, to Monte Cristo. But in the midst of that introduction, as though sensing the look of hatred that was being given to him, Villefort turned to find Hadlee watching him. Her brown eyes grew darker still, almost to the color of black, upon having him try to meet her gaze head on. But whenever they found themselves in the same company, he could never hold her stare. He found himself ducking or looking away quickly, lest she actually manage to peel away the layers of all his secrets with her knowing eyes.

Monte Cristo told them it was an honor to have them in his home, and then he stepped aside with Jacopo. Leaning down towards his loyal friend, the Count asks, "Where are they? Are you sure you invited them?" Jacopo nods, "Yes, your Grace. But I just learned that Count Mondego has retired for the evening. He has a morning appointment he cannot miss."

Monte Cristo's lips tighten briefly, clearly not very pleased with that bit of news. But it's not as though there were anything Jacopo could do about it. All the Count needed to have was patience. That, and he needed to remind himself that, in this world that was filled with dark and cynical people, there were still those who shone like rays of light into that dark abyss.

Speaking of which, his mood immediately lightens as he asks, "What of her? Has she arrived?" Jacopo smiles at this pleasant change of subject. His master's talk of revenge and vengeance was understandable, but sometimes a bit scary. As though the good man beneath all the rage might be disappearing. But whenever Hadlee was mentioned, Zatarra's mood increased tenfold.

In answer, Jacopo simply nods towards where Hadlee is standing off to the side. She had been watching them for a few moments, but upon seeing Jacopo nod towards her, she quickly turned her attention to yet another water fountain in the yard.

Monte Cristo smiles at the vision she makes standing there before him. She was the only person here who looked real and authentic. And as a servant approaches with yet another glass of champagne for her, he asks Jacopo, "Has she needed anything?" "Nothing that we haven't anticipated, your Grace. Or else, she keeps her desires to herself." Nodding, Monte Cristo pats Jacopo on the shoulder, and then begins walking over to Hadlee.

She felt and heard the world around her stall, as though in shock or unable to comprehend what was going on. Hadlee turned to see what new grand event was occurring that the Count had designed to dazzle his guests. But when she was turned around, her eyes widened upon finding the Count of Monte Cristo himself, walking assuredly in her direction. She took a step back, almost frightened by the prospect of it actually. She could not wrap her mind around the fact that this man wanted her here in the first place. But now, in front of all these people, he was openly approaching her.

And the smirk on his face said he was all too aware of the reaction he was getting from everyone else. So he either truly didn't care, or he simply enjoyed his ability to completely stun everyone around him.

The Count extends his hand to her, "Mademoiselle Hadlee Mondego?" She nods, offering her hand to him. He takes it gently and, with his eyes never leaving hers, he draws her fingers to his lips and kisses her knuckles. Blushing a bit, Hadlee then finally manages to find her voice. Glancing around, she says, "You have a lovely home, your Grace."

Monte Cristo bows to her in thanks, but then says, "Please, simply call me Cristo." Hadlee nods, and then Cristo offers her his arm to take. She slips her hand into the pocket of his elbow a bit hesitantly, but as his other hand gently lands over hers afterwards, he guides her around his property with an air of calm collectedness that puts her at ease. She didn't care what other people thought either. Certainly nowadays, she didn't as openly provoke reactions from them anymore, the way she had so long ago. And in truth, that was probably why so much attention being put on her now was a bit disconcerting. But she did not really care what they had to say, if they said anything at all.

As they walked around and he introduced her to his staff, he pointed out one of her arrangements. "I must say, they seem to bring the entire yard together to look like a whole. I may have to see about borrowing them from you again someday." Hadlee smiles, "With what you're paying for them, I'd dare say you've at least earned the right to ask for the use of them three or four more times, without charge." "Nonsense. They are worth every franc, and should I need them again, I will make another payment. Have you received your full payment?" "Only half, Cristo."

At his frown, Hadlee quickly says, "Do not berate Jacopo for that, good sir. It was on my insistence that it was done this way. Orders as large as this one, I always handle in this fashion." "Very well. As you wish."

Several people are following them around now, murmuring and whispering amongst themselves. If Hadlee had wondered about whether they'd have anything to say about Cristo's insistence on being near her, she didn't need to wonder anymore. But in spite of having so many other people around them, when Cristo stops them at the main door, he turns only to Hadlee and asks, "And what do you think of my home?" She gives him a brief look that obviously implied he already knew what her answer would be. But that look only seemed to make him smile wider. Finally, she simply says with honesty, "Its grandeur has no equal, Cristo."

Madame Villefort steps up at that point, finally finding a way of inserting herself into their conversation, "Oh, indeed! I've never seen a finer establishment in all of Paris. I dare say, possibly not even in all of France."

Hadlee's smile slips a bit at the sound of that woman's voice. It had been made quite clear to her over the years that, though she may not have been directly involved in any of the plots her husband and Fernand had made... Madame Villefort certainly wasn't troubled by anything those two had done. And like with the others, Hadlee had no desire to spend any great deal of time in the same vicinity with her. It wasn't her party, after all. It was Cristo's. They were his guests to tend to, as he saw fit. And surely by now, he had to realize he'd spent too much time with her, and not enough with the rest of the people in his house. He would release her soon, and then maybe she could leave before her temper got the better of her tongue.

But as she made to pull away from Cristo and allow him to tend to his other guests, she felt his grip on her hand tighten. Glancing up at him, she finds his eyes narrowed, as though in a challenge to her, as he secures her hand back into the crook of his elbow. And it was with widening eyes that Hadlee realizes... he had no intention of letting her stray too far from his side tonight. Based on gentle but firm grip he had on her hand... he may not let her leave at all.

No... no that is a silly thought. What was she to him? Nothing. Right?

He does, after assuring Hadlee remains by his side, finally turn to Madame Villefort and thank her for the compliment to his home. Madame then looks at Hadlee with a sly expression before she says, "Count, are you aware of just who the current company is that you're keeping?" Cristo, to her surprise, nods simply and says plainly, "Mademoiselle Hadlee Mondego. Of course. Are you all aware that her lovely flowers are part of the main displays you see tonight? Truly beautiful works of art. I wish I possessed the talent it took to have such beauty be born from beneath once plain earth."

Hadlee squeezes his arm, attempting to warn him away from complimenting her anymore tonight. The flowers would, again, be understood by anyone. All of the arrangements she made were something to marvel at. But as she glances up at him, all Hadlee sees is an amused grin as he glances down at her before returning his attention to Villefort's wife. Madame Villefort stands there in surprise for a second, and then says, "Oh… well, yes. Mademoiselle Mondego's flowers are, without question, renowned for their beauty and life." Smirking again, certain that she would now be able to have Hadlee shunned from the party, she adds, "But, I was referring more to her reputation among the people. Are you aware that…"

Cristo's calm and stoic manner took on an edge and a hard chill as he said in a slightly darker, but no less simple voice, "I know absolutely everything I need to know about Mademoiselle Hadlee Mondego. And based on that information, I have determined she is of quite excellent character." Turning back to Hadlee, whose eyes have blown wide and whose mouth is now hanging slightly open, he boldly bumps his fingers gently beneath her chin so she will close it. Grinning at the continued look of shock on her face, he simply requests, "Now, if you'll please come this way, Miss Mondego."

Hadlee was speechless. And confused. How could the Count of Monte Cristo know everything he needed to know about her? They didn't know each other. They'd never met. And he'd been in Paris for, at the most, a couple of weeks now. How could he have obtained what he deemed to be, 'everything' he needed to know about her? Furthermore, why had he seen it as necessary to obtain information about her in the first place?

Who the hell was this man? This Count of Monte Cristo.

The party lasted well into the night, and Hadlee never left Cristo's side. People who would've normally never come up to her in broad daylight, now tried to talk to her openly. Apparently, having the approval of a count, even though he'd only just arrived, was enough to make people not shun her at his party. Oh, she knew they'd still never approach her openly in broad daylight. Not unless they were coming to purchase flowers.

But at the very least, for this one night, no one asides from the Villeforts said or did anything to her that was meant to beat her down.

By the time the last guests were leaving, Hadlee had managed to get a breather and step into a quiet corner of the yard. Downing a glass of champagne, she sighs with closed eyes and rubs a hand across the back of her neck.

When she opens her eyes, Cristo is standing just a couple of feet away from her. The man could seemingly appear out of thin air. She'd left his side only one other time tonight, to go and relieve herself in a restroom. And when she'd returned, the party had moved on to a different location of the yard. And honestly, Hadlee would've been quite alright with keeping to herself again.

And then he'd taken her hand, appearing next to her without so much as a sound of warning. And his answering grin to her stunned face only made her laugh at him. He was clearly aware of the way he moved, how quickly and quietly it seemed to everyone else. He also didn't care. His only desire it seemed, for at least this evening, was to have her on his arm.

Which she admits, is certainly not the worst place to be.

He smiles at her now, taking in her slightly fatigued expression, and asks, "Have you found my party so unsuitable that you see it necessary to run at the first sign of escape?" Hadlee laughs a little and says, "No. I am simply… not fond of crowds for great lengths of time." Cristo nods, "Solitude. I am also rather fond of that luxury myself."

Hadlee turns back to gaze out the grounds around them, and then says frankly, "I said I do not enjoy crowds. I did not say I preferred solitude." Cristo moves to lean back against the balcony before her, his sharp eyes watching her closely. But though his eyes were sharp, and therefore obviously missed nothing, there was a tenderness… an affection in his features that made Hadlee want to blush and smile as she hadn't in a very long time. Then his voice asks gently, "Why do the people seem to shun you so?"

She does not respond at first. She obviously had no intention of telling him about Edmond. Count though he may be, she doubted he had any valuable information for her on the subject. And her conspiracy theory... well, at the very least, she'd stopped trying to convince people of that. No one, even those she still considered friend, had been able to believe her. The Count certainly would not.

Finally, with a suspicious glance towards him, she answers, "If you know everything that you could possibly need to know about me, then you already know the answer to that question, Cristo." He smiles at her witty answer, and then says, "Indeed, I did say that. I admit, I may have exaggerated my knowledge a little bit. But I have sources all over France, and all over every major city in which I stay. And they inform me of a great many things about a great many people. Your name, and the story associated with it, was one that interested me."

Hadlee raises an eyebrow, "The story of a Count's disgraced daughter?" Cristo's eyes narrow again before he says, "The story of a woman who threw away regard for her personal stature and rank, in order to pursue the path of virtue and truth. In my time on this earth, I've seen that option given to many. I've seen very few take it. It's far easier to go with the crowd, and to comply with the majority, so that one remains wealthy and well-liked."

They stare at each other for a bit, the Count's silent challenge in his eyes; a dare for her to argue with what he's deemed her to be. Finally, Hadlee only says softly, "I do not see my path as an option, or a choice amongst many. My way was the right and virtuous choice to make, and therefore it was the only one within my sights." Turning back to his grounds, she says, "If the world would only remember that God punishes those who turn their back to his will, they too would understand that there is only ever one true choice to make. All other 'options' are only the devil's demons, trying to make us stray from that narrow road."

Then Hadlee sighs, "But the world is a fickle place. The majority of people are weak. They do not think themselves to be so… but they are. All consumed by greed for one thing or another. All only concerned with what they want, and not whether it is in agreement with what God would want them to do."

Silence reigns for a moment, and then Cristo says, "You are an extraordinary woman." "I am myself, and that is all I know how to be." "And that is extraordinary. Whether you agree or not makes no difference now." She turns to give him a look, but the gentle smile on his face is filled with so much admiration and adoration, Hadlee cannot bring herself to argue with him. She ducks her head to hide a blush rushing to her cheeks.

Then she turns back to him and asks, "Why did you want so desperately for me to attend this party?" Cristo comes closer to her and says, "Because in a sea of false and masked faces… I wanted to know that at least one of them would be real." He holds out another champagne glass for her, to which she laughs and says, "I've had more than my fill of that tonight. If I have anymore, I'll stumble all the way home."

Cristo tilts his head, and then asks, "You walked here?" "I have no access to carriages, Cristo. Nor could I rent one." "Surely with half the payment already given to you for your arrangements, you could've…" He pauses upon seeing her blush again, and then he chuckles before saying, "Ah, I see. You already have plans in motion for what I'm paying you." "That is true." "And you could not even afford to rent a carriage for one night?"

Hadlee does give him a look now, and he chuckles. Hadlee then just grins and says, "I enjoy walking. Besides, I didn't want to spend the money on a carriage when I have much bigger plans for it. I do not want to need it later, and then call myself foolish for hiring a carriage rather than keeping it to move my plans forward." "Indeed."

He hands her the glass again, and simply says, "Trust me." She raises an eyebrow, "Trust is earned, Cristo." "That is true. So please, allow me a small chance to begin earning it." She narrows her eyes at him now, in suspicion. But he just continues to look at her in that tender way that he hadn't looked at anyone else all night. So she takes the glass, taps it gently to his own, and says, "Welcome to Paris, Monte Cristo." "Thank you, Mademoiselle Hadlee Mondego."

His carriage is called to take her home, and though she protests the inconvenience, Monte Cristo will not take 'no' for an answer. Furthermore, his staff seem equally as eager, and more than willing to escort her home. And as fatigue from the long day finally sets in, she allows herself to be helped into the carriage, a final kiss landing on her knuckles before she is then driven home.

He was a strange man. A very strange man.

But, Hadlee found herself grinning rather stupidly whenever her thoughts would turn to him. There was still much that she didn't know about this Count of Monte Cristo. But at the very least... she didn't think he was a bad man. On the contrary, she thought he seemed to be one of the few good men still left in this world. And he was, for whatever reason, apparently on her side in a great many things.

It was nice. To finally have a friend on her side again. Who saw her for what she was and decided to adore it, rather than disapprove simply because of what the rest of society thought.

A new friend... with familiar eyes. Different eyes... but still familiar. Why did she keep thinking that? Why?

Chapter 5! Yay!