February 22nd

Esmeralda and Quasimodo walked through the marketplace. Djali trailed behind.

The miller stood at the blacksmiths, buying nails and hardware. Both turned as Quasimodo and Esmeralda passed. Esmeralda slowed, walking behind Quasimodo for a few steps before placing herself between the blacksmith shop and her friend.

"That's the pair of them, then."

"His face looks as if it met one of your skillets."

"Let him be."

"He's not natural. Claude Frollo raised him, of all people. He'll burn us all."

"Andre, don't pester him. He did nothing to you and likely never will."

Esmeralda leaned into Quasimodo, pressing his steps away from the blacksmith shop. They continued through the marketplace, to a caravan with a table next to it. A handsome Romani man sat next to the table, watching the crowd move by.

"Thibaut, good day."

"Esmeralda, my favourite dancer. It's been months."

Thibault stood, setting his stool inside his caravan. He pulled his right hand through his hair, setting it back from his tanned forehead.

"What have you been doing? I heard you were hurt in the fires."

Thibaut stepped toward Esmeralda, his arms open. Esmeralda stepped behind the table.

"A few burns. They've healed."

"I heard you found a suitor. It's not that ugly…"

"I am engaged." Esmeralda cut him off. "What have you brought back with you?"

Thibaut looked over Esmeralda's shoulder, then turned away.

"Forgive me. This is Quasimodo. He saved me from the pyre."

Esmeralda gently nudged Quasimodo forward. Thibaut slowly extended his hand. Quasimodo hesitantly lifted his right hand. Esmeralda crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze piercing into Thibaut. Thibaut grasped Quasimodo's hand in both of his hands, firmly shaking it.

"Clopin explained some of what happened. I am glad you were there to bring Esmeralda to safety." Thibaut turned away from Quasimodo, and toward his table. "I returned with many riches from the fertile crescent. Esmeralda, I have more of your favourite inside. You're welcome to visit me any time you like, day or night."

Esmeralda raised her eyebrow and shook her head. Thibaut leaned toward Esmeralda.

"It's not yet a marriage, my sweet."

Quasimodo looked at the many baskets of wrinkled, dried objects. Some were strung together, like sticky beads. Others lay in heaps, as if large dead insects. Other baskets contained nearly spherical objects, their surfaces rough and wood-like. Nothing looked appealing. He looked to Esmeralda, who seemed enchanted by the rows of baskets.

"What are these?"

Esmeralda gestured his attention to Thibaut.

"These are delicacies from the holy land and beyond. Dates, figs, hazelnuts, walnuts, carob, cornel, sorb and dried plums."

Quasimodo looked at a foul-smelling basket, with brown, soft fruits scattered in sawdust.

"Those are the open arse."

"Thibalt!" Esmeralda scolded.

"It's what the Gadje call them."

"I read about these." Quasimodo peered into the basket. "Medlars. They are rotten before they are ripe."

"Your friend is learned." Thibaut winked at Esmeralda. "I am also knowledgeable."

Esmeralda swallowed the bile that rose into her throat.

"There is nothing to lose by trying them, Quasi."

Quasimodo shook his head at the strange, foul-smelling fruit.

"What is this favourite you mentioned?"

"Esmeralda has always loved the black figs best."

"You remembered."

"Of course, my dear. The big, long ones that are thick." Thibaut licked his upper lip and leaned forward, toward Esmeralda.

Esmeralda passed her basket to Quasimodo. She passed a few coins to Thibaut.

"We'll take a sampling of each of the fruits." Esmeralda looked to the bin of sawdust. "One of the medlars too, please."

"Of course, my dear."

Thibaut took the coins and began tossing fruits into Esmeralda's basket.

"Walnuts and hazelnuts are also delicious."

Esmeralda looked at the nuts and shook her head.

"What are those? Quasimodo looked into a pile of sticky brown nuggets.

"Sugar dates."

Esmeralda lifted a string, revealing that while the dates were large, there were few of them on each string.

"That will be another sou."

Quasimodo pulled a coin from a pocket and passed it to Thibaut.

Esmeralda counted the dates as they entered the basket.

"Good day, Thibaut. I want to show Quasimodo the rest of the marketplace."

"Always a pleasure. I hope to see you in the Court of Miracles. My blanket is always ready for you."

Quasimodo felt himself being pulled forward. Esmeralda pulled him away from the stall.

"Where are we going now?"

"Away from Thibaut. He overcharged you."

"I'm sure it was a mistake."

"Thibaut does not make mistakes. He was far more lewd than usual. He was clearly jealous."

"Of Phoebus?"

"Of you. He must think that I am engaged to you."

"Why did we go there, then?"

"Thibaut sells the best dried fruits, things I doubt you've tried before."

"I've not seen any of those things before."

Esmeralda placed her hand on Quasimodos left shoulder.

"Then it was worth going there. I don't know what a medlar is. We'll find out later this evening, I suppose."

"What do you mean?"

"These are not just for Phoebus and I. We were hoping that you'd join us for a small evening meal. It can be at Phoebus' boarding room or in Notre Dame. The location doesn't matter."

"That's not necessary."

"Quasi, neither of us want you to be alone any more than you want to be."

Quasimodo thought for a moment. He slowly blinked and a smile crept across his lips.

"There are many warm places in Notre Dame."