Chapter 5:
When the dancing had ended, Phoebus began to wish that he could simply dismount and wait for the dancer to be free from her part in the festivities so he could go… speak with her.
It didn't particularly matter that he was betrothed to Fleur de Lys, at a time like this, especially since he had yet to even see her after his return to Paris. Besides, it was the dancer constantly sparking his interest with her flashing eyes and her enticing dances…
In the midst of his contemplation, Phoebus was slow to notice the abrupt end to the deliberations on who would be crowned the King of Fools.
That was until fanfare broke through the dense crust around his mind, and he looked up to see that not only had someone been crowned, but this fellow had the face of a wax figure that had been out in the sun too long. He stared in dismay as the King was led in a procession past his position, unable to look away from the sheer strangeness of his appearance.
Before he'd gotten the chance to blink, it seemed the celebration had turned as ugly on the face of the King of Fools… though really, that was no justification for the way they were acting. Rotten fruits were being thrown at the poor fellow as he was spun around on a wheel ordinarily used for breaking bones.
"Sir," he turned to Frollo, hoping for a shred of the same compassion he'd witnessed in his youth, 'I request permission to stop this cruelty!"
"In a moment, Captain," Frollo drawled, and Phoebus realized that he was smiling as if he were enjoying what was happening. "A lesson needs to be learned here."
Before Phoebus could protest, he heard the racket behind him descend into a hush, and turned around in confusion.
The crowd had not ceased its torment of the bell ringer out of compassion, but because the dancer Phoebus had been so taken with was approaching the hunchback and had stolen the breath of all witnesses.
She knelt beside him and unbound the hip scarf from around her waist and used it to wipe away the residue of the fruit which had been thrown at the hunchback.
As they were too far apart, Phoebus could only guess what she was saying. An apology, perhaps, for the ill-treatment the man had received, and some comforting words, as well.
"You! Gypsy girl!" Frollo barked. "Get down at once!"
"Yes, your honor," she returned, "just as soon as I free this poor creature!"
Phoebus smiled at her courage and kindness, though he remained puzzled as to why Frollo was so averse to her acting in the role of Good Samaritan.
"I forbid it!"
Phoebus was still stunned, but the dancer scowled at Frollo, completely un-intimidated.
She drew a dagger from a sheath strapped to her leg—the sight of which made Phoebus's armor become slightly uncomfortable—and sliced through the ropes which bound the hunchback.
"How dare you defy me?" Frollo growled.
"You mistreat this poor boy the same way you mistreat my people!" she shouted across the square, and Phoebus noticed discomfort on many of the faces around her. 'You speak of justice, yet you are cruel to those most in need of your help!"
"Silence!" Frollo roared.
"Justice!" she shouted back, somehow louder than he'd been, and stabbed the air with her dagger.
Now the disturbance rippled more loudly through the crowd, and Phoebus marveled at how well she had stirred the people.
"Mark my words, Gypsy," Frollo snarled in spite of public sentiment being in the dancer's favor. "You will pay for this insolence!"
She adopted a mocking smirk, and said, "Then it appears we've crowned the wrong fool!"She gestured gracefully to Quasimodo, and then yanked his crown off his head. "The only fool I see is you!" She threw the crown at Frollo, and though it did not reach him, her words certainly had.
"Captain Phoebus! Arrest her!"
He heard those words, but didn't register what he was meant to do for an instant. He concluded after a moment's deliberation that if she were taken in, he would have the chance to protect her from Frollo's wrath, but if he didn't, he'd be the one who got it. At least if he helped arrest her, he could also help acquit her.
He snapped his fingers and gestured for the men newly under his command to surround her. It really was a pity. He would have preferred to see her again under better circumstances, but such was the fate they'd been dealt.