There was never a dull moment in the greatest gypsy troupe in all of Paris. Clopine knew this better than anyone.
Three days after yet another successful Feast of Fools in Paris (well, until that wonky-looking girl stole Esmer's spotlight) a small lull took over Clopine's troupe. She was resting her eyes on top of one of the tents, enjoying the cool day, with Daisy on her stomach when she heard a cry:
"Clopine! Oh, Clopine" her subject Vadoma called. "There's some strange woman out here. Says she won't leave till she speaks with you. Make her go away."
Clopine swung down and immediately came face to face with the stranger, who had clearly never seen a gypsy woman be so brazen before. "Why, hello, milady. What brings you to my colony?"
"Good evening to you too," the dame said. Clopine dropped to the ground, landing on her feet-a feat! The stranger kept glancing around, like she thought her kingdom untidy or something. And what's more she looked old, like maybe in her thirties. "I'm looking for the gypsy Esmer."
"Aren't we all. Sadly, he's not here; so if you could please skedaddle? You're frightening my people." Clopine cocked her head. "Say, you're with that pinched-up old hag lady, aren't you?"
"If you're talking about Froella, then I'll have to ask you to recant that statement. I am the Captainess of the King's Archers. The Captain is my cousin; the Fleur-de-Lys de Gondelaurier."
Clopine waited for the relevance of that statement to come crashing down. She was not impressed, nor did she look it.
"But if you say Esmer doesn't live here, then I'll be going. Sorry to have wasted your time; if you'll excuse me… " The dame headed out, but being a gypsy in France kept you on your toes long enough to notice things were not always what they seemed.
The dame was hanging around, clandestinely waiting for Esmer to show. Evidently not clandestine enough. Clopine scuttled to the opposite side of the tent, Daisy close to her chest, to watch as Esmer came up behind the woman and grabbed her arm, pinning her against the wall in one swift motion. Get her, sexy! "You."
"Easy, easy. You wouldn't hit a woman, would you?"
"I see no woman standing in front of me. You and that monster you work for make me sick."
"Oh?"
"Twisting the word of God; the city lives in fear." Esmer's eyes said he wanted to snap what he was holding. "The things you've done to my people… "
"With all due respect, sir, we're not here to discuss your personal issues; we're here to discuss my order from the Catholic Church." This dame was not afraid. She took the paper out of her breast plate and smacked it against his chest. "You are to stop giving water to that… girl. What's that lopsided lump's name?"
"You watch your mouth." Esmer snatched the note, skimmed it haphazardly. Then he balled it up. "And what if I don't?"
"I don't think you understand how the Catholic Church feels about you. How that nun feels…"
He tossed the note behind him. "I don't give a hot wet goat's butt what she feels about me." Clopine loved him. "That woman is evil," Esmer continued. "If this is the way she treats her own daughter, then she's even more brutal than I thought."
"Okay, well…"
"If that's even possible."
The dame paused. "... Okay. Well, don't say I didn't warn you."
"Thank you for your consideration," Esmer said, ever the dignified, "but I'll be sure to stay on my toes. I always do."
As she turned to go, the dame swiveled back around. "Oh by the way, you should know my name's Phoebe. And you're in for a world of hurt."
"Esmer. But you already knew that."