Chapter Nine: His Age

"Dad, come on, don't!" I followed my dad outside the inn, tears still wet on my face.

"I will not just sit by and let this happen! I'm going straight to the captain," he said, marching to the Court of Justice.

I'd told him everything, and his patience was gone. He was determined to voice his opinion to Frollo, or anyone else, whether they wanted to hear it or not. The whole situation with Michel outraged him.

Who can blame him? It was unfair and inhumane. I felt the same way, but...

"Dad, what if they kick us out!"

"Let them! We're leaving as soon as possible anyways!"

My throat went dry. "What if I don't want to leave!"

He glanced at me over his shoulder. "How could you stay?"

Then he walked off, and I debated following him, but I didn't. I bit the inside of my cheek until it started bleeding, filling my mouth with the taste.

What was I supposed to do? I tried to run all my options over in my mind. I couldn't let Clopin go, not after what happened with Michel.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turned my head around, my stomach sick.

"Meg!" Gilbert grabbed my shoulders, worried. "Are you alright?"

I didn't say anything, just shrugged a little.

You could tell Gilbert had been crying, his eyes were swollen. "It's going to work out."

I looked at him and swallowed. "We're probably going to leave soon."

His eyebrows shot up. "Where's Nessa?"

"She should be at the inn."

"Thanks," he whispered, walking by me. He turned back and said, "Clopin was looking for you. He's at the cathedral."

I waved goodbye, and just stood there as Gilbert went out of sight. I needed to talk to Clopin, but I didn't know what to say. I knew we'd have to leave someday, but I wasn't prepared right then. My faith was slipping and my heart was hardly repaired.

I drifted through the streets and crowds until I got to the cathedral. Clopin was sitting on the steps, playing with a hem on his tunic.

"Hey," I said, sitting beside him calmly. He stared at me for a minute, and then smiled, the wrinkles around his mouth widening like my dad's did. He was so much older.

It was pretty much wrong for me to feel the way I did about him. It was pretty much wrong for him to like me.

The whole concept made me a little uncomfortable at that moment.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Father says we're leaving as soon as possible."

Clopin still smiled, as if not surprised. "And what are you going to do?"

"Well..." I paused. "Maybe you could come with us! Its dangerous here and-"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I have responsibilities, Meg, you know that."

I scoffed at him. "Oh do I? Because at this point I don't even know where you live! Or how you make a living! For all I know you could be a cutpurse!"

He stood up and stared down at me. "Cutpurse? No. Cutthroat, maybe, but I'm no thief."

I stood up too, even more agitated. "Cutthroat!?"

He rolled his eyes a little, sighing. "Not everything can be solved easily. When you grow up-"

"Grow up?" I stepped back from him nodding my head.

"You're only sixteen," he replied.

"Does it make a difference? What makes you think when I'm twenty I won't have the same values?" I snapped.

"I don't know, Meg! Let's not argue right now!" he said firmly. "You want to know who I am?"

"I would like that," I breathed, aggravated still.

"Clopin Trouillefou, King of Tunis, successor to the Grand Coere, and the king of rogues," he told me, bowing a little.

I stepped back even further. "What?"

He sighed again. "I am King of the Gypsies." He stepped closer to me, leaning into my ear and whispering. "We live together in the Court of Miracles, where Frollo can't persecute us. And I, my dear, am in charge. If one of Frollo's spies were to ever find the Court of Miracles, it would be my job to dispose of them in order to protect all of my people. That's why I can't leave; that's why I could be called a cutthroat."

He leaned back, smiling proudly at me.

My eyes widened, which only made Clopin smile wider.

I looked down. "Clopin, why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "It's not as bad as it sounds. I enjoy it. And you will too."

I looked straight at him, shaking my head. "I can't stay with you."

"Yes you can! We have plenty of food, plenty of room! I've already mentioned it to a select few and they were fine with the idea. Even if they weren't, I'm the king!" he told me, grabbing my shoulders. "I'd protect you from Frollo, and you'd fit right in."

"No, Clopin, I really can't. As much as I want to," I bit the sore on the inside of my mouth from earlier. "If I stayed here I'd be doing the exact same thing Brian did to us."

Clopin smiled still. "No you wouldn't! Brian left for himself; you'd be staying for love."

I started to tear up a little. "Clopin, you obviously can't leave and I can't stay. You agreed to wait, so when I'm old enough I'll come back."

"Meg, I know what I said, but I don't want to wait."

"Just have patience."

"I don't have any patience!"

"Well you should have patience!"

"I should have you!"

I started to cry, and he wrapped his skinny arms around me, and kissed my head. "Don't cry."