(Paris - November 6, 1543)

Pov Chloe

"Miss, you need to wake up!" a sweet voice announced.

I groaned, rolling over in bed. I buried my head in the cocoon of the sheets, trying to muffle the sound of her voice.

"Not now, Sabrina," I groaned tiredly. "It's still too early."

I heard Sabrina sigh and then the sound of a pillow being smoothed. In the haze of my dream, he smiles.

"Miss Chloe, today is when the painter comes. "He can't stay in bed"

When my maid's words crossed my still confused and half-asleep mind, I quickly opened my eyes, sitting up abruptly.

"My God Sabrina, the painter! "My parents are going to be furious!" I exclaimed, suddenly in a panic.

I jumped out of bed without paying any attention to the slippers that had been carefully placed on the carpet the day before.

"What time is it? Oh my god, I'm not ready! Where is my dress? "I have to take a shower, Sabrina!"

Breathless, I turned quickly to Sabrina who was watching me in panic, her arms crossed and an expression of affectionate amusement on her face.

"It's half past eight, miss, and the painter doesn't come until a quarter past ten. You can rest assured, it will be ready in time, don't worry. The bath water is ready and his clothes are placed in the bathroom. "

I relaxed a little, my shoulders were no longer tense like they had been a few seconds ago, but my heart was still beating hard and desperately in my chest. I smiled weakly at Sabrina.

"Very good. Let's go then, I'll need your help."

When I entered the dining room and found my parents deep in conversation with the artist, I was immediately impressed by his peculiar physique.

Marin Dupang-Cheng was a surprisingly elegant man. His body was thin and he was one of those men who always seemed to be on the move. His voice was soft and slightly hoarse, his long-fingered hands moving along the sentences as if supporting his vehement declamations. His French was tinged with a barely perceptible Chinese accent. His hair was straight and - a fact that caught my attention - long. Descending to his shoulders in a dark jet waterfall. From behind, she could have sworn that she probably could have mistaken him for a woman, but when he turned around, the thin mustache adorning his upper lip left no doubt as to his gender.

When he looked at me, his eyes widened.

"Mon dieu!" he exclaimed in surprise, "une princesse, devant mon humble personne?"

Holding back an amused laugh at the young man's impertinence, I let my father make the introductions.

"Mr. Cheng, this is our daughter, Chloe."

The young man walked towards me with long strides. I extended my hand letting him place her lips on it.

"My lady," he whispered sweetly, raising his head to meet my gaze. His eyes were clear, I was surprised by the intensity they had. A smile lit up the young man's face, I felt my cheeks grow hot and blush with embarrassment for having been allowed to observe a stranger so openly. I just nodded.

"Mr. Cheng. "I have heard a lot about you, especially praise."

He just tilted his head and his smile widened. He seemed to want to say something else, but my father's booming voice inviting him to his office to discuss business over a glass of whiskey stopped him. I glided with a wink in the direction of the young man.

I carefully followed that mysterious young man with my eyes as he walked away. Something didn't fit in the young man's outfit. Something in the shape of his face, in the candor of his smile belied by the burning intensity of his gaze, seemed strange to me.

"Marin Cheng is starting to make a name for himself among French high society," my mother's voice whispered to me, interrupting my train of thought. I turned to her strangely and with a few questions.

"Does Father plan to buy him a painting?" I asked.

"Actually, he is negotiating an order," Lady Audrey responded with a small smile.

I felt my eyes widen. As far as I knew, my father had never expressly commissioned a painting from him.

"Really? And what would be the nature of it?"

"Well," my mother responded, "There are only a few months left until you turn eighteen. Soon you will be engaged to Adrien. "We would like to have a painting of your image when you are married."

I felt a lump in my throat. I hardened my expression by lifting my chin while clenching my teeth. When I met my mother's gaze, all I saw was a rigid coldness.

"I don't want to get married, mother. I want to continue studying"

Audrey gave a small mocking laugh. "Dear, women are not made to study. You spent seventeen fantastic years with the best tutors Paris had to offer. "Now you are an adult and you are intelligent enough to know that life has nothing to offer a woman without a husband."

Too aware of the truth of my mother's harsh words, I just lowered my gaze without responding. After a few seconds I let my gaze wander down the hallway, to the closed door behind which my father and Marin Cheng were enjoying an expensive Whiskey.

A touch of jealousy bathed the back of my throat with bitterness. What I would have given to have been born a man.

What I wouldn't have given to be free.

This story is dedicated to two people who I consider the most important in life and whom I must thank for all the support they give me.

KagamiPINKAgreste

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