Rose of Versailles 1. Prologue

This fic is based off a major what if. What if Oscar was raised as a woman? Hopefully, Oscar will still be Oscar, just in a dress. Of course, I welcome someone to blow the whistle on characterization within reason of course. Some things will be different I believe.

Please enjoy.

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"_God created woman from a crooked rib; and any one who trieth to straighten it, breaketh it."_

_-Somali Proverb

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**Crooked Rib**

**Prologue

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Oscar may have been young, but she was observant. Seeing her Nanny, who was usually loud, bright and chipper so quiet and sullen when brushing her hair in the morning set the eight year old on edge. The older woman smiled gently, and didn't pull at the knots and snarls in her hair quite so harshly. The girl wanted to drum her fingers on her vanity out of uneasiness but it was considered unladylike and rude, so she kept her hands folded very tightly. Girls should be seen and not heard and if they spoke it should be scarcely above a whisper. Oscar knew that her smiling face alone would not cheer Nanny, and she wouldn't be heard if she whispered. Oscar cleared her throat a few times in hopes of getting her attention. When this failed, she sighed and finally decided to speak.

"Nanny, what's wrong? Are you afraid I'll get skewered by my fencing instructor? Because if you are, don't worry, I'm a thousand times better than I was last week!" the girl declared. The innocence and sincerity of the statement made the older woman smile and she turned Oscar's little face toward her so that she could stroke her cheek.

"You are the last person I'm worried about, Mademoiselle," Nanny told her charge. "I'm worried about my daughter and her family, that's all."

Oscar looked at her quizzically and responded with an, "Oh…" The idea that Nanny had family wasn't new; she'd go on and on about her grandson to the maids. What was so wrong that she had to worry and look so distraught? Oscar decided to enact the "seen and not heard" rule and mull it over in her head. She created several scenarios, one involving pirates, the other involving bandits and before she could come up with another, she blurted out, "What happened?"

She instantly regretted it, for Nanny's eyes welled up with tears. Oscar feeling guilty over making the older woman cry and wanted to cry herself, but she held back.

"I'm sorry," Oscar whispered. The older woman kissed the top of her head and continued brushing her hair. Oscar fought tears valiantly, her father tolerated no crying from her. She wasn't his son, but she was going to be as close to one as he insisted. Which meant, she could not be a silly magpie like other girls, she must study Latin and Greek, read good literature, study history extensively, learn how to fence, be an expert horseman, and once she was old enough, she would learn how to shoot guns. Right now she was working on her archery. She was allowed other boyish freedoms; such as she could wear breeches when no company was expected, climb trees and have adventures. Sometimes she'd climb trees and have adventures even if she wore a dress—which worried her mother and Nanny to no end.

To their consolation, Oscar was quite the accomplished young lady. She was able to dance, play piano and properly serve tea. The girl refused to take up needlepoint, and her mother did not push it. She was glad enough that Oscar, despite her rough upbringing had fairly good manners when addressing adults.

Oscar looked up at Nanny as she styled her hair. Oh how she wished to make Nanny smile again.

* * *

The next day Nanny was gone. Oscar wisely did not throw a tantrum as was her first impulse, but waited until her mother explained that Nanny had only gone to her daughter's funeral. Madame de Jarjayes explained that she would be back in a few days. A few days turned into two weeks. Nanny's son in law fell sick and died shortly after the funeral. Oscar felt her little heart wrench in pain for her Nanny. Vaguely she wondered what would happen to the little boy, Nanny's beloved grandson. She knew if her parents died she'd live with one her sisters, probably Hortense. Maybe he would come live with Nanny? Would her father allow it? Oscar sincerely hoped so. No one deserved to be alone in the world.

Two weeks after her departure, Nanny returned with her grandson. Oscar was with her tutor dissecting Latin phrases, when she saw the carriage pull by in the rain that had began to fall that morning. She wanted to bolt out of the room and go to them immediately, but she knew what her father's reaction would be to such disrespect for the tutor and she stayed put. As soon as she was given a break for lunch, she exited the room calmly, but as the door closed on the drawing room, Oscar took off down the hall, slid down the banister and headed for the kitchen.

Sure enough, Nanny was there, pouring some milk for a boy, whom Oscar assumed was her grandson. There were no other children close her age for miles, save maybe Girodelle whom she had heard of a while back. Girodelle from what she remembered was fourteen or so, and this kid couldn't have been much older than her, so it simply had to be Nanny's grandson. For the time being she pushed all other thoughts aside and crushed the older woman in a hug and gave her kisses to make up for the ones she didn't receive since she had left.

"I worried for you so much, Nanny!" Oscar declared. "I'm glad you're back."

Nanny kissed Oscar's forehead and smoothed her hair

"Honestly no one knows how to take care of you while I'm gone…" she remarked meaning she didn't like the way the maid had styled Oscar's hair. She shook her head and Oscar turned her gaze to the boy sitting at the table watching them with his deep green eyes. His food was untouched, his face was tired and somber. Oscar smiled at him anyway hoping to get some sort of reaction in kind. When he didn't smile she held out her hand.

"Hello, I'm Oscar François de Jarjayes. Pleased to meet you," she said. The boy blinked, obviously confused. Such a girl dressed so elegantly, didn't curtsey and speak softly, as he would have expected. That was the way the other Madame's daughter was. Instead she offered her hand, a manly mannerism but polite nonetheless. He shook Oscar's hand a little apprehensively.

"I'm André," he replied, surprised at the softness of his own voice. He felt like he had been silent for so long, he had forgotten how to speak properly.

"Well, André, it's good to have you here. I'll see you around," she said. André nodded. She curtsied and left. The boy stared after her for a long time. What a strange girl.

"I think Mademoiselle likes you. She only shakes hands with people she wants to be friends with," Nanny told André.

"Friends? With Mademoiselle? Is that allowed?" he asked. The other Madame would scold him if he so much as glanced at her daughter. What made this girl so different? Was it her name? Was it her parents? André decided to look closely and find out.

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For two weeks André stared and stared and stared at Oscar whenever she came to the stables for her horse or when she came to visit Nanny in the servant's quarters. She didn't know what he was staring at. She was herself, and that wasn't anything new. Certainly André had seen girls before so she couldn't understand what was so special and different about her that he had to stare. It got so unnerving that she resolved to confront him about it.

Finishing up her lessons for the day, she decided to wait for André to come out of the stables and ambush him. She'd beat the truth out of him if he refused to answer her questions. Oscar, still in her studying dress climbed into the apple tree just beside the entrance to the servant quarters and lay in wait. André came soon and she felt a mischievous grin stretch across her face. She took an apple and threw it at his head.

"Hey!" she cried as the boy stopped dead in his tracks and held his head. "What's with you?"

André was a little less than amused with Oscar's greeting and glared up at her, "You threw an apple at my head!"

"I know," she replied crossing her arms and smirking.

"If you weren't my mademoiselle, I'd…" he trailed off and lowered his head. "Forgive me, Mademoiselle, I didn't mean to speak so rudely to you."

Oscar didn't reply immediately, instead, she took another apple and tossed it to him, "I was rude to you. It's only natural that you want to be rude back."

He caught the fruit she threw and stared at its red skin, "No…it was wrong."

"Why was it wrong? If you threw something at me, I'd be so angry I would have beaten you into a bloody pulp already," she said.

"You are a lady, I could never do anything bad to you," he said.

"So you're sorry you were rude to me not because rudeness should not beget more rudeness, but because I'm a lady?" Oscar replied, climbing down out of the tree.

"Ah…well…" André mumbled, unable to look her in the eye.

"Suddenly you can't even look at me. But all week you've been staring at me. Why?" she asked putting her hands on her hips. He gazed back sheepishly.

"Well, you're very different, Mademoiselle…" he confessed. Oscar clucked her tongue and crossed her arms.

"So you tell me I'm a lady and I'm different and you stare at me and treat me differently because of all that? You're not being fair to me. I am Oscar and you are André. I'll bet you're not that different from me."

"I work all day, you study all day. I'm a boy, you're a girl. You're a noble and I am not," he pointed out. "We're really, really different, you and I."

"Well…" Oscar began. "We're both alive. We're both kids. We live on the same manor. You speak French like I do."

"Not really…you speak super proper…like a scholar."

Oscar snorted, "My tutors tell me I speak to boldly. All the other girls they tutor aren't nearly as outspoken."

"It must be fun to do all that learning. Mademoiselle…I mean the other Mademoiselle told me my brain wasn't made for books."

"That's stupid. What proof does she have? I bet you can do almost anything I can do. Wait…hold that thought."

She left him to marvel after her as she began to hatch a plan in her curly blonde head.

* * *

"Father, I believe I need someone to study with me," Oscar declared after her request to see her father was granted. Monsieur de Jarjayes was torn between being shocked and enraged at her declaration.

"I have received no complaints from your tutors. I will not be paying for you to irritate another man of learning," he told her.

"Allow me to explain," she said. "I asked Monsieur Rousseau what made him so good at Latin. He explained that he spoke Latin everyday with his classmates. Teaching someone else always helps him to keep his knowledge of the language fresh. Father, I know you understand Latin, but you are too busy. Mother and Nanny do not know Latin and do not have time to learn it. I propose that I teach Latin to André, Nanny's grandson. By extension, I believe it would be beneficial for me if I taught him everything I know, to keep my knowledge sharp."

"Teach your servant girl everything you know. That boy has no need to learn how to dance, sing or play piano."

Oscar resisted the urge to pout and declare defeat, but cleared her throat and stubbornly persisted.

"Father you know how to play piano and dance," she said. "A boy could always do well to learn how to fence and read. Besides…Annette's so much older than me but she can barely count her fingers much less learn everything I'm learning."

"What makes you so sure that boy can keep up with you?" he asked.

"He…" Oscar kicked herself, she didn't know what to say to that. "I just know, Father."

Monsieur de Jarjeyes fell silent, "You are dismissed."

She curtsied and left her father's study. It was times like this he regretted allowing Oscar to be so educated. At nearly eight years old she shouldn't be able to orate and reason the way she did. He feared when she got older, if she continued to learn and study philosophy, she could convince the nation that she was actually the king of France. No, no he was exaggerating, but she was rather convincing. He could not allow his authority to be undermined and André was still a servant. Perhaps…Oscar could stand to have a playmate at least.

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Oscar had just finished her fencing lesson for the day and bid her tutor farewell. Nanny served her lunch all the while complaining of how, "nice young ladies have no need for fencing." Oscar wasn't so sure of how true that was. Her mother said at the last ball they were throwing daggers at her. All right, Oscar knew she said "glaring" daggers, but the girl surmised that if they knew she was good with a sword they'd think twice about giving her dirty looks. It was all protection. She could certainly make good use of such talents as a lady.

The thought of having useless talents brought up what she and her father had discussed earlier that day before he departed for Versailles.

"It would be utterly pointless for a servant to learn how to dance and to speak Latin and Greek. And when would he ever need to know how to fence?" he told her. Oscar looked down at the fencing foils lying on the floor. She sighed and picked them up and went outside, André should be passing by any minute. She put the foils at the base of the apple tree and climbed into the branches, trying to find the perfect one to throw at him. She found one just in time, for just as she pulled it free, André started down the path with that sullen yet dreamy look on his face. With one well placed hit, she smacked his forehead and he yelped in pain. André immediately looked up into the branches of the apple tree as Oscar snickered.

"Mademoiselle, not this again…" he mumbled. She climbed off the branch she was sitting on and picked up both fencing foils.

"Here," she said tossing one to him. "We've got a lot of work to do."

"Mademoiselle?" the boy said questioningly. "I don't know what to do with this…and…why are you wearing breeches?"

"We are fencing, André. I'm going to teach you everything I know," she explained. "Reading, writing, history, and Latin. Father says he will allow me to continue teaching you if after one month you show good progress."

"Then why are we fencing?" André asked.

"Father said you absolutely must learn how to fence. And from now on, when I have dance class you must be my partner. Got it?" she said. André gave her an odd look, as though he wasn't sure whether he should be grateful, but he bowed and held his sword sheepishly with both hands. Oscar rolled her eyes.

"Come on, you'll never beat me if you stand like that!" she chided. "You're not wielding a broad sword. Fix your stance."

She adjusted him, tapping his limbs lightly with her practice foil. Once she was satisfied with his positioning she took her place as his opponent.

"Yes, André, I believe we shall be good friends," she said. He gave her another wide eyed and frightened look as though being her friend meant being stabbed like a pin cushion.

"Oh and André?" she began.

"Yes, Mademoiselle?" he said in a hesitant, shaky voice.

"If you call me 'Mademoiselle' one more time, you'll sincerely regret it," she replied. Oscar lunged forward without another warning. "En guarde!"

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Notes, notes notes: I tried to picture how "girly" Oscar would be raised. I don't think that the good General could ever fully give up the idea of having a son. Oscar probably would spend most of her childhood in a "limbo" as though he couldn't decide whether or not Oscar was going to be his "son" after all, or his daughter. Because of his indecision, Oscar's mother probably had more of a say in her upbringing. I'm certain she would learn almost everything a boy would have learned, but she would have learned the courtly manners expected of a woman and of course dressed like a girl. Of course, she doesn't spend her whole life in a genderless limbo, her path gets chosen eventually.

Edit: Some words, and the fact that Nanny has a daughter and not a son.


	2. Spring 1769

Hopefully there will be more to comment on this chapter. I'm so happy that Kitten Kisses and Sara Jaye are reading. If I have their stamp of approval I know I'm on the right track. I hope I don't mess it up now...

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**Crooked Rib**

**Chapter I: Spring, 1769

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It was far too early, Oscar felt, to be awake and this primped. Nanny had spent an hour pulling, curling and teasing her hair into the perfect quaff and she couldn't say she hated the style. She rather liked it. The blonde only hated what it meant. She sat in her room and was in a rather reflectively angry mood. She had pulled her chair to the window and stared out at the flowering trees hoping they'd burst into flames if she glared enough. Today was supposed to be a big day, a day full of hope and joy yet she had none of those good feelings.

She practiced her perfect posture. Seated just a few inches from the back of the chair, back straight, chin parallel with the floor, shoulders back, legs crossed at the ankle, hips angled, legs tucked carefully beneath the seat of the chair, hands resting on her lap. Ah, she forgot the disinterested smile. That wasn't mandatory, but she knew it would keep people away. Oh how she wished to keep them away…

There was a knock on the door. If it was Annette she could go soak her fat head in a laundry vat. She couldn't stand to be around her and her empty headed prattle about lace and gowns. A dress was a dress. A fancy dress was a dress with more ruffles. End of story. There was another knock and Oscar only continued to attempt will the branches outside into reflecting the rage she felt inside. 'Come on,' she thought, 'just a little fire would do me so much good…'

"Oscar, are you in there?" André called finally. Oscar's sour mood became a little sweeter, but she didn't let the relief show on her face. She called for him to come in, not taking her eyes off a particularly bright, white blossom.

"You barge into my room unannounced every other time," she commented as she heard his footsteps. "Why's today so different?"

"I never have to come to your room this early, I always get summoned after you're dressed," he told her. "Why isn't Annette bringing up your breakfast as usual?"

"She's busy today I suppose," Oscar answered curtly. Rather, Annette was busy making herself look adorable. After all, she was Oscar's handmaid and would accompany her to Versailles tonight.

"I can't believe you're making your debut already. You're only thirteen years old," he said placing her breakfast on her table. Oscar sighed and grumbled something under her breath as clenched her fists. André sighed.

"I heard you. It's too early for Latin, Oscar," he said. Her cold silence told him that he should play along. "'Younger women than I are happy mothers made.' We've been speaking Latin for years now Oscar, you can't catch me completely off guard."

The dark haired boy walked over so that he was just behind her chair. Usually, he would twirl her gold locks between his fingers while she didn't notice, but her hair was so carefully done, he dared not ruin it.

"Your hair is amazing," he commented. She didn't respond at first, she wrinkled her nose in displeasure.

"I feel like a high born poodle," Oscar said finally. André couldn't help but laugh and Oscar smiled as she gazed outside. A smile was good, she knew this, but she was still angry.

"Come on, have something to eat. I know you're nervous, but you can't perform on nerves alone," he said. That was just it, she knew what she was going to do that night: perform. Pretend she was happy, pretend she was honored to make acquaintances. Really, she wished that she could live far away from Versailles and never set foot in the place. André laid his hands on her shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. Oscar looked down at her lap and then slowly got up from her seat. André dragged the chair back to its rightful place at the breakfast table. Oscar sat down to eat and her friend sat just across from her in the accompanying chair.

"Are you ready for tonight?" she asked surveying her breakfast.

"I'm always ready. This is nothing new. I'm just the footman in your coach. I help you out and I help you in," he said. Oscar tapped her boiled egg with her spoon.

"Can't you come to the party with me?" she asked. André tilted his head in interest as he gazed at her. She didn't meet his eyes, yet nothing in her posture denoted desperation or uneasiness. Even her voice was cool and even.

"I can't. I'd be rather strange for a young lady to have a male attendant," he said with a grin.

"We can dress you up as a girl," she replied. Something about the tone in her voice made him unsure as to whether or not she was joking.

"A fine woman I'd make. I'd draw more attention to myself because I'd look so awkward," he told her. Oscar sipped her tea and looked deep into its sepia reflection. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the stupid looking girl reflected there.

"You're right. You wouldn't make a very good woman," she said finally.

"It's sad because I think you'd make a very good man," André added. "Perhaps a better one than me."

Oscar managed a grin as she stifled a giggle. She was upset, she shouldn't be laughing right now!

"I'll tell my father that there is no way that I can go to a ball tonight, I was not meant for it," she began. "No, I am a military man beneath all the brocade and corsets! I can take on the entire Royal Guard and win!"

"I'm absolutely sure you could," André said. "That's the bad part."

Oscar was smiling despite herself and she looked up at André appreciatively. She didn't have to tell him that she was upset for him to know. Still the coming evening filled her with dread. It was only seven thirty in the morning but come seven that night she would be living her nightmare. One night in Versailles spelled a lifetime of doom for her. André could still help her in one way. He moved to clear the dishes from Oscar's half eaten breakfast, sensing she would eat no more. She grabbed his wrist and he looked over at her slightly alarmed.

"Were you not finished? I'm sorry, Oscar," he said.

"I need you to help me practice," Oscar explained. The dark haired boy put the dishes down and dusted his hands.

"Well what are we practicing? Perhaps you need critique on your piano or your singing?" he said. Oscar didn't answer. Instead she looked though her vanity drawer and pulled out a glove. André was confused; Oscar was acting far stranger than usual. What scenario was she planning on enacting? She looked up at him with that deadpan look she normally sported. He stared back unsure of exactly where this charade was going. She raised the glove and smacked him across the face with it.

"No, Oscar, you can't!" he protested, finally realizing what she was doing.

"Too late, your honor has been challenged. You must duel," she replied.

"Young ladies are not challenged to duels and they certainly do not challenge other people to duels!"

"André, you know me! I will be the exception!" she shouted. "Now pick your weapon!"

André gazed at her with worry, "Oscar, we can't do this. Not now."

She marched straight for him and grabbed his cravat, "You will duel me, or I will pick the weapon. It will be fists and I won't hesitate to break your jaw with them."

Her friend was not necessarily intimidated by her threats, but he didn't want Oscar to get tired out from using him as a punching bag. What ever she dished out he could take and he certainly could take a lot.

"I pick sabers," he said in a defeated tone. She grinned and went to her weapons closet.

"Good choice," she said. "Wait a moment, I need my breeches."

She disappeared into her closet and André used this opportunity to put away the saber and sneak away. No way he was getting in trouble with Monsieur de Jarjayes today. He had almost made it down the hall, when he heard Oscar's door fling open. He stared in disbelief at the figure that stood in the doorway.

"There's no backing down from a duel, Monsieur Grandier!" she snapped. She tossed him the saber he had put away. He caught it and shook his head.

"Oscar, we really shouldn't be doing this. What about your hair? And I'm sure Granny doesn't want you to be all sweaty when you go to Versailles," he said trying to reason with her.

"I know what I'm doing, now come on," she said grabbing his arm.

"I am so dead…" André mumbled. Oscar ushered him down the stairs her friend cautioning and pleading with her the whole two flights. Oscar knew this was probably a bad idea, but she needed this more than André realized. Or maybe he did…

She succeeded in dragging him out to the garden. There she took her spot ten paces away from him.

"Why, Oscar? Don't get us in trouble today, I'm sure we'll regret it!" he protested.

"I regret nothing. Besides, if you wanted to stop me, you would have done so already. En guarde!" she cried. André braced himself so that he'd be able to counter her attack.

"Why do you always strike first?" he asked as their blades met briefly. She didn't answer, and he continued to block or dodge her attacks.

"Come on, this is a duel! Fight back!" Oscar shouted.

"Stop it, Oscar! Look your hair is starting to fall out of place!" he pointed out. She grinned and only attacked more fiercely.

"Oscar!" he cried in warning.

"You want me to stop? Land a hit on me!"

He groaned knowing that this wouldn't end well for him. He stopped working his defense and focused on his offense. While she moved for a hit, he dodged and moved to catch a bit of her blouse. Anticipating that move, Oscar shifted her position to defend. André smirked, Oscar was on point as usual.

Both were hard pressed to really land a good swipe at each other, though André tried to land a hit, Oscar was much too fast and far too offensive to make an opening. Oscar, though she was quick found it hard to break André's defense as easily as she used to. He always had an opening though, she only had to spot it.

"There," she whispered as she pulled back to size him up. As she moved in for the "kill" she found herself meeting the sword of a third and far more formidable opponent. Her father. She gazed wordlessly at him and he scowled down at her. She withdrew her sword and straightened up.

"What are you doing?" Monsieur de Jarjayes asked through clenched teeth.

"Fencing, Father," she answered. His fists tightened as he glared down at her.

"If your face didn't have to look perfect…" he growled. Oscar bit the inside of her cheek and held her breath. She knew what he meant.

"André! Come here," he barked. André walked over and stood beside Oscar.

"Why did you indulge her?" the older man demanded to know.

"She…she seemed stressed about going to Versailles. I thought fencing would allow her to blow off some steam," he answered. If Oscar was surprised by his half truth, her face didn't show it. Her father was silent for a while, but Oscar knew better than to assume the worst was over. Without another warning, Monsieur de Jarjayes' fist connected with André's jaw, leaving the young man sprawled out on the ground. Oscar stared at down at André in surprise. The boy stood up slowly.

"You are confined to your quarters and you will not receive meals for the rest of the day," Monsieur de Jarjayes said. "And Oscar…Proper young ladies do not fence in court. You had better be flawless tonight."

He stormed away. As he disappeared into the manor, Nanny and Madame de Jarjayes rushed out.

"What were you thinking, making my young mistress get in trouble like that," Nanny scolded André. "I worked so hard on her hair, really you have no consideration for my hard work."

"Sorry, Grandma," André said apologetically. Madame de Jarjayes put an arm around her daughter and walked her back inside. Oscar shot a look over her shoulder at André. If he wasn't there tonight…she would be fine. She knew she'd be fine, she wouldn't see him most of the night in any case. She just needed that idea that he wasn't far, that she could bolt out of the ballroom and hide in the carriage with him until it was time to go.

"My, my…you are quite sweaty and dirty. I wouldn't believe you were going to Versailles at all," her mother said. "Oh and your hair…I'll just have a bath drawn for you and Nanny will set about your hair again."

Oscar was silent, her eyes focused ahead. Her mother guided her inside and the young girl just couldn't hold in the question burning in her chest any longer.

"Mother…do I really have to go?" Oscar asked. Madame de Jarjayes stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The older woman looked down sadly but righted her head after just a moment. She held her daughter by her shoulders looking her in the eyes.

"Oscar, I know you will hate me for this but…I made a wager with your father," she said. Oscar's eyes widened in surprise. "He wants to send you to a convent to become a nun. I insisted that he try to marry you off first. I said if by springtime next year, you are not engaged or have no prospects, he could send you if he wished."

"Mother, why?" the girl asked.

"It's for a lot of reasons. Please…Oscar, life for a woman without the aid of a man is hard. I don't know how to advise you in any other way. So please…try to attract one for your own survival," the older woman told her. Oscar looked down at her shoes, unsure of how to react. On one hand her mother was entirely right. On the other, Oscar did not want to just marry for security. What other option did she have? To become a nun? That was a life for some, but not for her.

Oscar raised her head, saber in hand and walked up the stairs to her room leaving her mother behind. Her face regained its fire as she closed the doors to her room.

* * *

André noted there was a lot of commotion on the other end of the manor, he could hear it. Perhaps he was so consumed with hunger that he was hearing things. All he could think of was Oscar. Bitter silence was not entirely unusual for her, but it was different today, he could feel it. She was genuinely unhappy and he didn't quite know why. Wouldn't most girls be excited to go to Versailles? Oscar wasn't like most girls, he had an increasingly hard time figuring her out.

Why did she refuse to join the court? Why did she hate it so much when she'd never even been there? It was a great honor, he wished he could join them sometimes. It wasn't as though he raptured about caring for horses or spent his whole life glorifying manual labor. He had just accepted that he would have to do such things because he was born into a low station in life. Oscar accepted nothing if she didn't want it.

He knew for a fact that she hated dresses. Going to Versailles everyday meant she had to wear gowns. Why should she hate them, he wondered. She was a girl, she would grow to a woman and she would wear a dress. Was she any less herself in a dress than she was in a pair of breeches? He thought briefly of the conversation he had with her earlier. She may have been joking about dressing him up as a woman, but he would certainly feel awkward dressed as one. Maybe Oscar felt awkward dressed as a woman as well. Why on earth did she feel awkward as a woman? She filled the role quite nicely…

The last phrase struck him. Filling a role…Oscar didn't like pretenses or putting on an act. From what he heard from Madame de Jarjayes, Versailles was all about pretenses, it was a giant play. Oscar would be forced to be a frilly peacock of a girl, when she'd rather be the active, outspoken and athletic person she was. She hated dresses because she couldn't move, she hated corsets because she couldn't breathe, she hated powder because she couldn't recognize herself. Perhaps Oscar was not so difficult to understand as he thought.

If only he could go with her, to cheer her on from the stables, but he had ruined that now. He could look at her and she'd know he understood. He understood what she was afraid of now. Of course, to figure it out used a lot of his energy and he was now hungrier than ever. If only he could explain to General de Jarjayes that Oscar was not being defiant, she was only afraid of losing herself. To the General, Oscar was whatever he asked her to be. She was his son if he needed it that day, she was his daughter when he wanted one and she excelled in filling both roles. No wonder Oscar hated pretending so much, after all she'd done so her entire life. In Versailles the General needed Oscar to be a court darling and she had to pretend to be one for an unspecified period of time. It would be the greatest performance of her life.

He wished he could somehow let her know that he understood what she was feeling, that she really wasn't alone. She was already on the other side of the house, probably practicing how to properly greet the Duchess of Something. Or maybe she was practicing a dance. He breathed deeply and tried to picture her. Nanny would have given her a new hairstyle and Oscar would be standing in the light of the sun room, her chin held high, her eyes aloof. Madame de Jarjayes would begin the music. One light step to the left, two to the side, step in place, stride forward. Or maybe she was practicing a waltz. Everyone could see her perfect movements, but did anyone see the pain in her eyes? He could see it so clearly now…

"I'm sorry, Oscar. I'm just your dense friend," he mumbled. His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten since six and it had to be near noon. Something told him to grab a bite when he served Oscar breakfast. He was loosing his mind, he hated being in his room alone for so long, he thought too much.

The door to his "cell" creaked open and André sat up in slight alarm. It was Monsieur de Jarjayes with a most odd expression. Anger and concern were there, but it was also a sort of shame? The older man's eyes were fixed on some point on the ground.

"Well…come on, get some food," he said. André slid off his bed and followed the general out of his room. Monsieur de Jarjayes would not look at him and André trailed just behind the older man. If André understood anything about the general it was that he did not dole out punishments lightly, nor did he go back on them. Something must have happened for him to change like this. He opened the kitchen door and pointed to a plate of food that was sitting on the table for him.

"Go on, eat," the general said. It sounded more like an order, but André was too hungry to care. As he began to shovel food into his mouth Monsieur de Jarjayes went over to the window.

"Oscar went missing," he said finally. André stopped eating and stared over at him. The boy didn't need to know why, but he was shocked that she had gone so far as to run away. The general looked down and folded his hands behind his back.

"You are the only person who would know where to find her, and the only person who could convince her to come back," the older man explained. André didn't need anymore to be told. Had he been a soldier he would have saluted.

"I will try my best, sir," André said. The man nodded and left the room. Now André was too worried to finish his food. He grabbed a bit of bread and went out to the stable. He was torn between doing what he was told and allowing Oscar to get away. How could he force her to do something she wouldn't want to do?

He dragged himself over to the stable and decided to look for her. If Oscar really wanted to run away, she would have done so days ago. He knew she wanted to be found. Her sudden disappearance was a cry for help. Oscar was rather complex, but at the same time, she followed a distinct pattern once you observed her long enough. André had observed it all, and knew where she would go; their secret spot by the river. It was actually quite obvious. No one went there to look for her because they knew they couldn't convince her to come back.

Sure enough there she was, stretched out on the bank. André gazed at her sun drenched form for what felt like an eternity. He couldn't describe what made Oscar so very special. It could be her long, dark eye lashes, her smile, her laugh, her slender legs. The way her femininity was nuanced, every fine feature was delicate and placed just so. Tittering girls were a dime a dozen, but Oscar was a woman created with something more. There was more, something deeper that he had yet to see. He caught glimpses of it now and then, and he kept his eyes on her hoping to see her truly embrace what it meant to be Oscar.

"Well, André?" she began, not opening her eyes. "Are you going to drag me to the manor kicking and screaming?"

André said nothing, but climbed off his horse and sat beside her. The girl opened her eyes and rolled on her side looking up at him silently.

"I'm ready to hear your opening arguments," she said. André shook his head.

"I'm thinking about letting you go," he told her. Oscar blinked and moved to a seated position.

"What? Why?" she asked.

"How could I ask you to go back home and be something you're not?" he replied. Oscar looked down and scowled at the grass.

"I wouldn't survive the first dance in Versailles," she said. André grinned and nudged her.

"I think you're wrong. You remember that last dance we practiced?"

Oscar snorted and rolled her eyes. The older boy was not to be deterred, he stood up and held out his hand. Oscar narrowed her eyes at him and grit her teeth.

"I am currently dressed as a man. Men do not dance with men," she said. The brown haired boy grabbed her by the arm and helped her to her feet.

"André will always be available to dance with Oscar no matter what she is wearing," he said. He took a step back and bowed to her in proper court fashion.

"Your courtly mannerisms are better than mine," she noted as she held out her hand. He couldn't help but smile as he held her waist. It was a little difficult to fall into step on the slight incline of the hill, but they found a rhythm to guide their movements. Oscar's eyes were on his and her usually aloof expression was replaced by something entirely different.

"André, do you know why girls make debuts in society?" she asked. He shook his head. "It's so they can officially be put on the 'market' for marriage."

"I see," he said. "Do you want to get married?"

"I don't think I have a choice…" Oscar continued. "My father wants to send me to a convent. Mother says if I'm not married or engaged by next spring, I will be shipped off. André, what will I do? I don't want to be a nun! But I do not wish to marry either…"

André looked down at her, taking in every word. That was the problem, it was more than what he had figured. He stopped dancing and released her and she looked up at him. Her face just seemed so sad…she wasn't crying nor did she seem on the verge of tears, but she was obviously miserable and scared as well.

"I'm afraid I'm going to marry someone out of desperation and end up having to be something I'm not just to please him for the rest of my life. I don't want to lose me…" she said. "I can barely find myself now."

André continued to gaze at her as she walked from in front of him over to the shade of a tree. She sat against its trunk and looked up at the leaves. André sat beside her and watched the way the shadows splayed across the slight angles of her face. André could see her. Sometimes it took a while, but he saw who she was. He ran the back of his hand down the length of her arm. She could pretend to be a man who wrestled pigs for a living, she could pretend to be a grand duchess, but she'd always be his Oscar.

She looked away from him snorting in anger. André pretended not to see her aversion to his touch, instead he entwined his fingers with hers and gave her hand a light squeeze. The blonde girl slowly turned her head until she met his eyes. He held her gaze for a while before she looked away, this time at her gold buckled shoes. André might have been slightly heartbroken had she not closed her fingers around his hand and squeezed back.

* * *

They were going to be an hour late to the party, and Oscar was not sorry. The only thing she was sorry for was that she had to undergo all the torture that would have been spread out through the day in the space of three hours. So she had her hair done, her face powdered, her corset pulled and the heavy sky blue brocade dress put on in a flash. Her father would not look at her as they left the house to board the carriage, but her mother grinned reassuringly. Nanny put a caplet around Oscar's shoulders and gave her a kiss.

"You will certainly be the belle of the ball," she said. "You're my Oscar, I know."

Oscar could barely breathe a thank you, her corset was so tight. Doubtless Nanny was pouring all of her frustration and worry into pulling the corset strings. No wonder women scarcely spoke above a whisper, they couldn't get enough air to do otherwise. She stepped lightly over to the carriage where André was waiting to help her in. He only smiled at her and she glared back. She was finally dressed nice and she knew he wanted to say something about it. If she could toss her hair in defiance she would but it was pinned against her head and she didn't want any of the ornaments to fall off. She took his waiting hand and climbed on to the first step. As she eased in, she was surprised to feel his free hand at the small of her back.

Oscar sat quietly across from her parents and glared out the window. She was upset, even more so than she was this morning. She had to be married in a year, she couldn't breathe, she had so much powder on her face she felt like a porcelain doll, her scalp was sore from all the pulling, and oh her ribs were breaking…to top it off the dress was too lacy. Annette was sitting next to her smiling like an idiot. At least someone was happy about their first visit to Versailles.

The trip ended too soon. Oscar could see the soft party lights and hear the strain of the music already. One by one, everyone else got out of the carriage. Suddenly she couldn't breathe. This was it…why was she here? Why didn't she take up André's offer to help her escape? Why wasn't she long gone and living on a farm right now?

"Oscar…" she heard her father growl. "If you don't get out of that carriage right now—"

André climbed into the carriage before he could finish. Oscar knew her father was probably fuming. The word of a servant boy had more power than his own when it came to his daughter. André sat across from her and smiled at her thoughtfully and she only crossed her arms.

"What are you suddenly attracted to me because I'm like this? Do you think I'm beautiful now because I look like a fairy godmother threw up all over me?" she snapped. André laughed.

"You're always beautiful, Oscar," he said.

"Shut up, no one asked you," she growled.

"Do you remember when we'd read all those Greek legends and tragedies together?" he asked.

She looked out of the carriage window and didn't answer. Why did she suddenly feel the need to look away when he talked so comfortingly to her?

"What was inscribed over the Oracle of Delphi's entrance?" he said. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"'Know thyself,'" she answered. She nodded and turned away from the window. "I'm ready."

He smiled widely and climbed out ahead of her. She didn't look at him as she stepped out of the carriage.

"Are you ready Mademoiselle?" Annette asked.

"As I'll ever be," Oscar answered darkly. She followed just behind her parents as they walked up the steps to the ballroom. In a moment of displacement, she felt as though she were walking up the steps all alone, hearing only her restricted breathing. She turned over her shoulder and saw André waving at her. "Know thyself." What was there to know?

"_I don't want to lose me. I can barely find myself now…"_

What was there to lose? What was there to find? Whatever it was André had found it or at least some of it. It must be something for him to keep looking at her that way; the way that made her lose her nerve and have to pretend to be distracted. It had to be special for him to hold her hand the way he did that afternoon. He had given her a crucial piece to work with. No one else would see good things about her if she didn't know them herself. Sometimes they still wouldn't see…

Inside the ballroom was hot. Everything gave off heat, bodies, candles, and her petticoat trapped it all near her skin. Her face felt flushed, but her rosy cheeks only seemed to make all who met her fawn over her more.

"Oscar is such a strange name for a girl, but she's so stunning!"

"Where did you buy your dress? I can't seem to find a seamstress that truly flatters my figure…"

"Such a perfect complexion!"

Oscar curtsied politely and made small talk as best she could. It was easy to pretend around these people. Give short answers, ask a question that made them talk on and on about themselves. She pulled out her fan and beat more hot air into her face. She was melting and the air was so thick it made her lungs feel as though she was breathing in congealed blood. She fought her way through feathers, pearls, pretenses, greetings and silk to the balcony. All she needed was a breath of fresh air.

She beat the air with her fan furiously and breathed hard as she collapsed on a stone bench. Out there the air was so thin compared to inside she felt she couldn't breathe in enough. Slowly she gained a sort of equilibrium and gazed up at the cloudy sky. The moon was attempting to peak through at the party below.

"Diana, goddess of the moon…you're not missing much down here," she mumbled. "Stay behind the clouds."

"I'd say Diana is envious of you," an unfamiliar voice called. Oscar turned in alarm toward the balcony doors. A man was there with a slight grin on his face. "She peaks from the clouds to see her rival in beauty."

Oscar raised her fan to hide her frown. Who was this guy?

"I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone was here. I just spout nonsense now and then," she said.

"Greek mythology is not entirely nonsense, my lady," he said standing over her. "All truly educated people allude to them frequently."

"I do not have the privilege of knowing your name," Oscar said resting her fan over her chest.

"Ah yes, how rude of me. I am Victor Clement de Girodelle, a pleasure to meet you," he said taking her hand. He pressed his lips against her knuckles lightly. Oscar pursed her lips and pressed her fan slightly harder against her chest.

"It certainly is a pleasure," she lied. "My name is Oscar François de Jarjayes."

"General de Jarjayes' youngest daughter. You're far more beautiful than he described," he said. "Still…Oscar…what an odd name for a woman."

"I'm not used to any other so I believe I shall stick with it," she told him.

"I said it was odd, I didn't say it was bad. Mademoiselle, would you mind joining me in a dance? I feel I should celebrate with a lovely lady tonight," he said offering his arm.

"I will certainly join you. What's the occasion?" she asked standing up and accepting his polite gesture. She slipped her fan into her dress pocket.

"I was appointed commander of the Royal Guards today. I will be assigned to watch over Lady Marie Antoinette when she arrives next year," he replied.

"Really? Will you be training the cadets in a special way, or is it a standard sort of training, like the army?"

Girodelle raised an eyebrow at the question unused to women making such informed inquiries. Oscar didn't notice for as soon as they entered the ballroom again she felt boxed in. She glanced over at her father and mother as Girodelle led her to the dance floor. Her father appeared pleased, whereas her mother looked shocked. Oscar narrowed her eyes slightly. Her father had arranged her meeting with Girodelle, of all the nerve…

The music began and Girodelle bowed. Oscar curtsied lowering her head. What did she have to remember about dancing? She felt his hand at her waist and his fingers entwine with her free hand. She assumed the correct position, and followed his lead. She didn't look at Girodelle, she was far too angry with her father. She could hear her dancing instructor in the back of her head quipping about her sour face. André would have stuck his tongue out at her and made her smile. She knew she should try to be happy. It really wasn't Girodelle's fault he was caught up in her father's scheme. She glanced up at him and looked back down at his waistcoat. Why couldn't she smile at him?

"Are you suddenly shy, Mademoiselle Oscar?" he said. She shook her head and he chuckled a little. He certainly was enjoying this. When did she ever really enjoy dancing? She had danced enough already today! The afternoon waltz with André was plenty. Oscar closed her eyes and pictured it. The music that filled the ballroom became the rushing wind and the river in the background. The candlelight became the afternoon sun and Girodelle was…

Without realizing it, a small smile had graced her lips and when she opened her eyes, even though she wasn't where she wanted to be, the spell from her daydream stayed with her. She couldn't help but smile thinking about that awkward waltz on the hill.

"Now there's something that not even Venus could hope to replicate," Girodelle said. Oscar snapped back to reality.

"What?" she asked, confused as to what he meant.

"Oh, it's gone already…" he commented. "I'll figure out how to bring your smile back."

Oscar smirked half heartedly and raised her chin slightly. As if he could figure her out so quickly. She'd like to see him try just for the laughs. Girodelle was blinded by this ornate husk, he could never see what she was. He could never see what she was looking for in herself, not even André saw all of her, though he probably would spot it sooner than this court favorite.

'There's more to me than this body and these clothes,' she thought. 'There's more to me than my name, and my manners. When I find it, I'll show more of myself to you, André my friend.'

* * *

Thank you, thank you for reading. Thank you, thank you to anyone who may bother to review.


	3. Pursuit

Forgive my slowness. I kept rewriting parts until I just told myself to put this out there before I kill it.

* * *

**Crooked Rib**

**Chapter II: Pursuit

* * *

  
**

General de Jarjayes was reasonably impressed with Oscar's performance at Versailles and allowed her to avoid going back for a few days. She filled her free time with reading, fencing, hunting and long rides with André. The time spent with André was what she lived for. She was a little upset with her parents and only André seemed to understand her point of view on things going on in her life. Best of all, he understood why her encounter Girodelle was so funny. It seemed she could not think of all the silly things that he did all at once. Over the course of a few days she would remember something and embellish her tale even more.

"The man was prettier than me," Oscar said as the two lounged under the apple tree. "He went on and on all night about how I was prettier than Greek goddesses and his promotion to Commander of the Royal Guards. As if that impresses me. That whole lot is simply ineffectual. The king asked for a bunch of guard dogs and got puppies who fuss over what color their pantaloons are."

"I just wish I could have seen him," André said.

"No, wait! The best part would be when he tossed his hair. Like so," she said imitating the young noble. The boy laughed and Oscar shook her head.

"Can you believe my father set up that whole meeting?" she commented. "I need to marry a _man_, you know?"

"No, I don't."

"Stop being so literal. Anyway, if I married Girodelle, I'd spend the rest of my life being jealous of his hair."

"You would be fighting over hair ribbons," André added.

"You're the only boy who is allowed to use my ribbons," she said. He grinned and she smoothed his ponytail. She still remembered the day she noticed André's hair had gotten long. He was trying to fence and he kept on getting hit by some of her more obvious movies because his hair kept falling in his eyes. She stopped everything and dragged André to her room. Pulling out a dark red ribbon she tied his hair back.

"Now Granny will think you're as cute as me," she told him. He had gone through countless ribbons more colors than she could think of but whenever he got a new one it was always one of hers. Oddly enough, if she could avoid it, Oscar didn't wear much in her hair. Maybe a ribbon to keep her hair off her neck in the summer. She liked her hair loose so it could catch the wind and the sun. Though she pretended not to notice, she knew André liked to play with her curls. In fact as she lay on the grass that very moment he had a lock curled around his index finger. She opened an eye and grinned up at him.

"Tomorrow I'm going to get fitted for yet another dress. I have enough already," she complained. "I'm slated to go to Versailles in two more days too. Are you going to come?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Promise to tell me all about Master Girodelle should you see him."

"You know I will," she said. "Annette practically fell over when she heard I danced with him."

"Was she surprised you danced with him or that you danced period?"

Oscar smirked and smacked his arm, "I dance."

"You've only been to one party and danced with one man. Not much of a track record," he said. She sighed and covered her eyes with her hands.

"I don't want to have a track record. I don't want to go back because then I have to dress up. Can't I go just looking like this?" she asked. She smoothed her plain green dress that she often wore around the house. It was perfect for studying, climbing and having impromptu rides, even though she did have to ride sidesaddle. André smirked and shook his head.

"I don't have to tell you," he replied.

"You said I'm always beautiful, or did you forget?" she said. André's face turned bright red and Oscar couldn't help but smile at his expense. "If I'm always beautiful then I can go anywhere wearing anything and I should be fine, right?"

"Um…well not everyone can appreciate beauty in its raw state…" he said. The girl raised her eyebrows and smirked.

"And that means?"

"That means…well…remember in church, we were to observe the lilies of the field because not even Solomon in all his glory was arranged as lovely one of those. Well, most people in Versailles prefer the royal dressings. They wouldn't like you like this as much," he explained.

"So I'm like a flower? Hm…I like being called a goddess better," she said. He laughed and ran his fingers through her curls.

"Well, you'd better work on your dancing, you don't want Girodelle to get bored with you," he told her.

"I hope he does," she grumbled. "I just don't know…"

"He's only the first man who expressed interest in you on your first day at Versailles, you still have time," André said. She fell silent and looked up at the tree branches. She curled her legs against her chest and folded her hands over her knees.

"I never thought about getting married before I the day I went to Versailles. I just always hoped that I would somehow get out of it. I don't want to be a wife. I don't want to have children. I just want to be…I just want to be…"

A myriad of words whispered though her mind, but none came to her mouth. André put his arm around her shoulders. The gesture made her feel better but her question was still there. What did she want to be? Where was she going to go?

"André, I want you to read to me," she said suddenly.

"What?" he said. "Why?"

She didn't say but she grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the house. She needed to be distracted. André's reading gave her much to be distracted about. What he read was always interesting, sometimes if it was Greek or Latin she had to concentrate a bit more so she could understand. If he was reading French, she could let her mind wander. She could listen to the subtle (or not so subtle) changes in his voice.

Usually André would get so concentrated on reading that she could stare at him without him noticing. He had changed over the years. She remembered she used to loom over him and correct his reading on almost every line. Now there was much less to correct. André's reading wasn't the only thing to change with age. His voice, his hair, his face, he was taller and stronger…if he didn't act the same she would have thought he was a completely different person.

She glanced over her shoulder at him as they entered the house. When had everything changed? Why couldn't things just stay the same? Even more scary thoughts crossed her mind as she refocused on the stairs ahead. If she got married would she have to leave André behind? Her grip tightened around his wrist. He said something about her squeezing too hard, but she didn't let go. Even if it meant a little bruising, she'd hold onto André as long as she could.

* * *

It seemed that the next ball came much too soon. Already Oscar was laced up in a pink dress staring at the doll faced girl in the mirror. She didn't have to even ask if the girl she saw in the mirror was really her, it was only the image that her father wanted. Oscar wondered if actors in plays looked at themselves in the mirror after putting on their costumes and feel the same way, as though it were an out of body experience. There wasn't much time to think about the complexities of her appearance and how she responded to it, Annette was ushering her out of the door.

Perhaps what she hated most about her appearances at Versailles was what it did to her relationship with André. He didn't look at her differently, he didn't say anything differently, but he treated her differently. He took her hand and steadied her as though she were fragile. Any other time he would not hesitate to tackle her to the ground or throw her over his shoulder unceremoniously. André had to officially assume the role of servant and she hated it.

Bathed in the soupy yellow light of the ballroom, Oscar longed for the crisp sunlight. She felt so displaced from the scene she was in. Small talk with girls she had met at the last ball, a dance with a kindly older lord…it was so far from what she was naturally. Oscar was sitting with a bunch of girls talking about some lord she had never heard of before. All of a sudden the conversation stopped. Oscar had only been vaguely following and followed the direction the brightly colored eyes were turned.

"Oh, Monsieur Girodelle! How are you?" the girl nearest to Oscar's right called. Oscar groaned and held her fan to hopefully hide her face. "Please don't come over…" she begged silently. He was all too eager to oblige the other girls. There was no polite way to withdraw from the group and she hoped her thin lacy fan could hide her features enough.

"Congratulations on your promotion!" a brunette with bright blue feathers in her hair said.

"I heard that you have your work cut out for you. But I'm sure you'll do well," another girl added.

"You ladies are too kind," Girodelle said bowing slightly. "Well, what's this? You have a little dove who thinks she can hide."

Oscar mouthed several curse words before peering over her fan. She snapped it shut forming a small smile. She was too irritated to pretend to be any happier.

"Oh, It's is Mademoiselle de Jarjayes. How pleasant to see you again," he said taking her hand and kissing it. Oscar's grip on her fan tightened, though she kept her expression a mask of polite indifference. She didn't really want him to single her out. Already she could see the gazes of the other girls either turning into burning glares or coolly looking off to the distance.

"I'd hate to take you away from your friends, but I really would enjoy the honor of dancing with you," Girodelle requested. Oscar curtsied.

"I would be glad to dance with you," she answered. Oscar didn't know what she felt as she rested her hand on his shoulder or as the music began. Girodelle seemed to sense her discomfort.

"Now why do you have such an unhappy face when you dance? Most of the other girls would be happy in such a situation," he asked. She managed a smirk.

"If you want a smiling dancing partner, why didn't you pick one of them?" Oscar asked glancing over at the glowering girls.

"Well, none of them have a smile like yours," he explained. "Your smile is more…thoughtful and genuine."

"Are you saying that the other girls are disingenuous? I don't think that's fair to say," she said.

"You're with them more than I am, what is your impression of them?"

"I don't know them very well. Everyone has levels. Some of them may put on a foolish and lighthearted front for the court. You never know what they are like at home," she said.

"Why do you let off such a different sort of air?" Girodelle inquired.

"I'm different? How so?"

"I can't quite say. It's not just your name, it's you," he explained. Oscar looked off just over Girodelle's shoulder. For a moment she founder herself thinking of another boy who declared she was different from other girls. She could feel the smooth skin of the apples she threw at his head that day. Once again, despite herself, she smiled. Girodelle, unaware of the true reason for Oscar's changed expression, attributed it to his own words. Wanting to keep her expression on her face for as long as possible he didn't say anything about it, remembering what happened last time.

"How is the training of the cadets going?" she asked. "What is the general pool of skills? Do more of the men excel at shooting or fencing?"

"None of them are especially talented in either area. More of the men seem to favor the use of guns," he told her.

"You've only just begun the training, I'm sure they'll get better with time," she said her eyes lighting up at the thought of guns and sword training. "I would be so excited to serve our military."

"Maybe you should be joining the Guard instead of these men. Most of them don't really want to be there, but have no other means of making a living," Girodelle explained.

"It would be very interesting to see you train them," she said. The man was now thoroughly intrigued with Oscar. He talked of her beauty, the party and all other things that girls were supposed to like and she only grew more distant. However, pointing out she was different and talking about his regiment actually got her to open up. It was all quite curious to him.

"Would you like to come observe us early next week? Say Monday?" he asked. Oscar's smile only grew.

"Certainly!" she said. For once Girodelle was rather excited to make a girl smile. He had made countless women giggle and bat their eyes but with Oscar it wasn't something that was just given. He looked forward to their future meetings.

* * *

André was surprised to find Oscar up early in her breeches waiting out by the stables.

"Morning," he said. She didn't look at him. The older boy slid open the barn doors and grabbed a pitchfork and set about work. Oscar sat on some bundles of straw not far off and kept silent. André knew that Oscar would start talking soon if he gave her some space.

"I can't believe I agreed to meet with Girodelle," Oscar said finally. André hadn't expected her to say that, but he did not pause in his work.

"I didn't want to. But something about guns, swords and the military makes me just kind of less inhibited," she said. He smirked and somehow felt more at ease. For a moment he thought Oscar had a crush on Girodelle and that just didn't seem to be Oscar.

"Well just enjoy the guns and the swords. If Monsieur Girodelle is busy training the men, you can just observe without being bothered," he told her.

"It's your fault I'm in this mess anyway," she grumbled.

"How is this my fault?" André inquired gazing over at her questioningly. Oscar scowled and crossed her arms.

"I don't know. It just feels right to blame you for things sometimes," she said. He laughed and continued about his work. Oscar didn't say anything for a while. She was probably seething about having to spend an afternoon with Girodelle and once again, André knew she needed her space. When she was waiting for him to finish work or deciding whether or not to just interrupt him right then, Oscar would just gaze at him with those blue eyes he had grown to admire. It thrilled him somewhat, he had no idea exactly what she was thinking, but he liked to pretend that she­—

"André? Can we go horseback riding later?" Oscar asked.

"I wish I could, but I've got a lot of work to do," he said.

"Can I help you?"

André stopped working and took off his jacket, "What's with you Oscar? Is being with Girodelle that bad?"

"No…I just…when I go to see him next week everyone is going to know. Every young lady in Versailles is going to be breathing down my neck from this point forward. I may as well have said, 'Yes, Victor! I will marry you!'" Oscar explained.

"So just don't go," André suggested.

"Too late, Girodelle already told Father that I'm going. I have no choice now."

"Oscar, you'll survive. I have faith in you," he said.

"I'd rather have to face the entire British Army than face a gaggle of Girodelle's 'lovers.' I am nearly defenseless against them," Oscar said shivering at the thought.

"I think they're defenseless against you. That's why they're so hostile."

"What do I have against them?"

Oscar was looking down at her boots as she clenched her fists. He could tell he was chewing on the inside of her cheek by the way her jaw moved just slightly. Her eyes were down cast, but he loved the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek. It reminded him of when they were kids and when they would take naps in the shade of the trees of the de Jarjayes' woods. He would almost always take forever to fall asleep but Oscar would be asleep almost immediately. She would press her forehead against his neck and he could feel her eye lashes brushing against his skin. He longed for those days, when he wouldn't feel weird about sneaking into her room, and the goodnight kisses that she would lightly press against his cheek.

André didn't know when they got so they had to hold each other at arm's length. Maybe it was for the best, Nanny was right, there had to be a distinction between the servants and the people they served. Any relationship closer than that was dangerous. It would only spell trouble, and he could never have Oscar. She needed to be with someone of her class. Maybe he should stop discouraging her from being with Girodelle. She would learn to be happy with him, he hoped.

"Just try to enjoy yourself a little," he said. Oscar looked up at him with another one of these odd looks she seemed to be sporting more often. It wasn't desperate, but it was…he couldn't describe it.

"Can't you come with me?" she asked.

"Oscar, why do you always ask me to come with you?" André pointed out. Oscar's shoulders stiffened.

"I…you're my best friend," she said. "Wouldn't you want to take your best friend everywhere, especially when you know you're going to be uncomfortable?"

He couldn't say no. He liked being with Oscar and wished she could be there during some of the more difficult moments of his life.

"But you are more than capable of dealing with the court on your own. I can't be there with you, but you know where I am. You can always run to me if things get too tough," he told her. She looked up at him and smiled slightly. Oscar rubbed his arm and nodded.

"Promise?" she said softly. André felt his heart wrench, something about Oscar being vulnerable around him made him want to do whatever she asked.

"I promise. I'll always be there," he said.

"Well, I'll leave you to your work. I'll bring you lunch later," she told him as she climbed off the hay bale she had been sitting on. He watched her leave, her lithe figure slipping out the door. André just wished there was more he could do to help her. Oscar was going to get caught up in the twisted web that was court life, and all he could do was be there.

* * *

Oscar appeared at Versailles on Monday. She had never seen the palace during the day and it seemed more magical in the light than it did at night. Unfortunately the events that went on inside weren't nearly as magical. Her father sent Oscar on her own telling her she must establish her own presence at Versailles. It was important that she become a well liked young lady, for the more connections she had the more desirable a wife she would be. Oscar wasn't going to try too hard, but she couldn't wait to see the regiment.

She would be meeting Girodelle for lunch at twelve and he was waiting for her as her carriage pulled up. André helped her out and Girodelle took her hand.

"Good to see you Mademoiselle Jarjayes. I trust your trip went well," he said. Oscar nodded in response and he began to lead her away from her carriage. She somehow felt strange, as though she were betraying someone. She looked over her shoulder at André as he climbed on the back of the carriage. He grinned at her, but to Oscar it wasn't completely right. She looked ahead and looked down at her dress hem. What was she doing here in this stupid dress and with some guy she barely knew?

"Hey…what's with that sad face?" Girodelle asked. Oscar bristled. Why was she so easy to read? She'd have to be more guarded with her expressions.

"I'm just missing an old friend is all," she said.

"Really? I do not hope to replace such a valuable friendship, but hopefully my company will ease your loneliness," he said. Oscar wished she could hide the gagging face she wanted to make with her fan, but she took it out anyway and swiped at the air furiously. It was rather warm inside after all. She grimaced and glanced off to one side. The room they entered was well lit and beautiful. Waiting were two older women who were rather classy in comparison to other women Oscar had seen at parties.

"Mademoiselle Jarjayes, these two women have known me since I was very small. This is Countess Nicole de Loncret, and this is Baroness Romilla de Ghent," he explained.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance," she said softly.

"Please be seated, Mademoiselle," the Countess de Loncret said. Oscar felt rather at ease with these women, they made her think of her own mother.

"Girodelle tells us that you're here to observe his trainees," Baroness de Ghent commented. "The military is a highly unusual interest for a young lady."

"I agree," Oscar replied as a servant poured tea. "However, my father being a military man, being familiar with its ins and outs is something that was expected."

"That makes sense. I hear General de Jarjayes had no sons," Baroness de Ghent replied. They enjoyed lunch and small talk before Girodelle escorted her to a balcony where she could observe the regiment from above. Oscar for once was glad that Nanny insisted she wear a hat, the sun was rather intense from her vantage point. Oscar put her fan away and watched intently. They went through a morning muster: their movements were sharp, gorgeous. "Appearing flawless and being effective are two different things," she thought.

Then came target practice. Oscar felt her fingers itch as she saw that not one of them could hit the targets. The mask that she had so carefully crafted for the day cracked and she stood up and leaned over the railing of the balcony so she could see.

"That was disgraceful," she heard Girodelle shout. She rolled her eyes. Disgraceful was an understatement. They couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. They were ordered to do the excercise again, but Oscar wasn't waiting to see the results. She had already left the balcony and was marching for the training square. This was ridiculous, Nanny who was blind as a bat without her glasses could hit that target. Girodelle looked shocked to see her down there, and he rode over to her.

"Mademoiselle Jarjayes, how are you enjoying the view from above?" he asked.

"Well…the muster was excellent. It seems your men have a knack for pageantry and being seen. However…"

"The shooting practice is less than stellar. They seem highly unmotivated."

"You want to motivate your men? Let me give them something to 'shoot' for. Let me do the exercise," she said.

"Really, Mademoiselle, we have no time to teach you how to shoot. Most of these men despite the fact that they have not met my standards, are not entirely new to shooting. This is no easy task for a beginner," he told her.

"I, Monsieur Girodelle, am no beginner. There exists no gun I can't shoot and no target I can't hit," she said.

Girodelle was speechless momentarily and she pushed past him.

"Madamoiselle, I must protest this. Regardless of whether or not you can shoot, it is most uncharacteristic of a young lady to—"

Oscar simply tuned out the rest of his words. Walking up to a young man, she held out her hand.

"Hand over all musket balls, powder and your fire arm please," she said. He stuttered in surprise, in the end she took the musket from his hand, and handed him her hat. He gave her the powder and musket balls and she grinned.

"Thank you my good sir. Now don't get my hat dirty," she said. She felt at ease with the musket in her hand, and in no time flat she had it loaded. Without a second thought, she raised the musket aimed and fired right at the center of the target. She stepped as quickly as her skirts allowed to the next target, loaded her gun and kneeled on one knee and fired at the next target. With impressive speed she shot though the center every target. Almost as suddenly as she snuck up on the unsuspecting cadet, she headed back and returned his gear. She took her hat back and curtsied.

"Thank you for your help. I trust you'll respond to Captain Girodelle's training and not let a lady out shoot you from now on," she said. Girodelle looked as though he were about to say something but was speechless. This silence was short lived before he jumped off his horse and followed her into the building.

"Excuse me if my words are out of place," he began. "But what kind of stunt was that?"

"No stunt, Monsieur Girodelle. I simply could not stand to watch those men put your good advice and guidance to waste," she replied.

"Mademoiselle I am quite capable of motivating and guiding my men to the high standards met out by the Royal Family."

"I do not doubt this, I merely gave them a push in the right direction is all."

"I can train them without a woman interfering with the process."

Oscar sensed the hostility in his voice and felt her anger creep into her own, "That was not the skills of a woman out there. That was the training of General de Jarjayes, Monsieur Girodelle. If you will excuse me, I have gunpowder over all my hands and on my dress. Perhaps we could talk about your regiment at another time."

She curtsied again and left. Though her anger was still very apparent, she still had a bit of a rush from the musket in her hands. Oscar was very aware as she all but skipped off to her family's chambers of the eyes that watched her curiously. That didn't matter now, she was almost certain she had rid herself of a suitor.

* * *

André had never stayed over night at Versailles before. True, he was not privy to the creature comforts, but the servants' quarters were nice. He had to be up early because he knew Oscar would be awake and ready for a horseback ride. He didn't expect to see her much, he had no business in the palace and she couldn't be running to the stables every five minutes like at home. However, she sent word down the night before that she wanted to go for an early ride on the designated trail. Oscar said seven and sure enough she was outside the stable at seven on the nose. She was wearing a dark blue riding habit and she seemed a little out of sorts.

"I don't like riding side saddle," she mumbled. André only smiled at her.

"You look like a real lady in that habit," he commented. She snorted and allowed him to help her onto the back of her horse.

"Are you all set?" he asked.

"Lead the horse," she requested.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Take the reigns and lead the horse down the path."

He understood without any further explanation. He did as she asked, even though she hadn't asked very nicely. He glanced over his shoulder at her troubled face, but didn't push her. André knew it would only be a matter of time before she told him everything.

"I thought I got rid of him yesterday," she began. "I shot all the targets at his practice. I showed up his men. He should hate me for overstepping my bounds, for not being a proper lady."

"Let me guess, he likes you even more," André said. She growled and shook her head.

"I don't understand it! He sent me flowers and an apology note. Then he invited me to another ball and wanted me to observe the trainees again," Oscar said. "André, what do I have to do to make him leave me alone?"

André felt his heart wrench. He couldn't tell her that he had no idea of how to pull away from her himself. She obviously wasn't expecting an answer, when he glanced over his shoulder she was preoccupied with the tree branches.

"Everything here is so contrived. I can't stay here for too long," she said softly. "I'm going home tomorrow," she said. "You and I should go hunting Friday."

"Sounds like fun," he said. She looked down and gripped at her skirt.

"I have to get through a ball tonight," Oscar said. She trailed off, but he knew what she wanted to ask next. "Can you come with me?" He didn't need her to know just yet, but he didn't know if there was a place he wouldn't follow her to. However, it was not Oscar's place to decide who followed her, or if she should be leading at all.

"You'll have Girodelle to keep you company," he told her.

"I don't want Girodelle!" she snapped. They didn't speak for a while, all that was heard was the horse's hooves on the trail. He knew that it wasn't his place to ask, but he wanted to find out: just what did she want? From what he had seen she wasn't even sure herself.

"I don't see why you don't like him," André continued. "He thinks you're beautiful, and he's not bothered by your odd interests."

"I don't know what it is. I just don't like him," Oscar said. "André, how long can I keep this up? I only just started appearing in Versailles and I just can't do this."

"You'll find your way, I know you," he said confidently.

"Stop," she ordered. The silence of the trail enveloped them and André looked up at her expectantly. She didn't look at him right away, her wide brimmed hat hid her face from him. Eventually she turned to him, that painful look in her eyes.

"Take me back to the stable," she said in a barely audible voice. He wanted to press her, they had barely started down the trail, but he knew that it would only make her angry and more upset than she already was. He didn't say anything to her, instead he wrestled with his own hardships. How long could _he_ go on like this? Always squashing the one thing he probably should tell her. Since they were kids, he would always hold back from asking her that one final question that really mattered.

At the stables he held her waist, helping her off the horse. He could feel her stiffen at his touch. He didn't want to tell her, but for some reason he felt guilty touching her when she was dressed for visits to Versailles. It was horrible because he knew nothing about her had changed but her clothes. It was the clothes that reminded him of what she was. When she wore that pale green dress at home, he knew it was safe. He knew they were equals. They knew a lot of the same things, they could ride horses and speak in coded Latin. He could give her a hug if she allowed him, he could hold her hand for a few seconds longer if no one was watching, simple touches did not riddle him with guilt.

Add more ruffles and change her hair and it was painfully obvious that she was a noble and he shouldn't be near her unless he was caring for her horses under her supervision. That was why, just helping her in and out of the carriage or right now, helping her off her horse, something he wouldn't have thought twice about at home, bothered him. He held her like hot glass that he had to release immediately and as gently as possible. André went through a lot of trouble to make sure that he didn't really want to treat her differently, but she didn't quite understand. Why else would she have reacted the way she did when he helped her off the saddle? He removed his hands as soon as she knew he was steady. She only glanced at him quickly before she adjusted her hat.

"I will see you tomorrow morning," she said.

"Right…" he said softly as she headed toward her room. Oscar sometimes became so consumed with her own problems that she didn't see that some people were battling the same issues. It would be all right, André supposed. Their conversation today had enlightened him to some things. He watched her walk away wondering just how long they both could keep up their acts.

* * *

Oscar couldn't believe it. She hadn't even made it home before everyone knew that Girodelle was crazy about her. At the ball so many women were routinely cold or even more interested in her than ever. The fact that she was a good shot got her a fair amount of young lords teasing her, or pulling her aside to secretly ask for tips. She didn't know whether to be upset or not. Either way she was the talk of Versailles. According to rumors, the trainees were so ashamed that she could shoot better than they could that they trained three times as hard. There was no reason that they couldn't shoot better than a _woman_, especially with Girodelle as their leader. Another rather strange rumor was that Oscar was a trained assassin that the king had so he could root out his enemies. She had no idea how that one got started.

Versailles was behind her as she rode home in the family carriage. She didn't want to cause all this talk, she only wanted Giriodelle to stop liking her. Now there was all this attention from all kinds of people. Her father would be happy. Who knew in a vain attempt to show herself, she only made it so she had to pretend more often. Now she was invited to more balls, and asked to give a shooting demonstration to a group of ladies next week. Not to mention that Monday Girodelle had requested her presence on the training grounds to observe the trainees again. He stressed the word "observe" and she understood what he wanted.

She took off her gloves and laid them carefully in her lap as the carriage rattled toward home. André held her hand that morning as he helped her into the carriage, but his touch was strange and felt distant. It only happened when she was dressed to go to Versailles and it only led to her hating the place even more. Why couldn't she bring André into the palace with her? Dress him up nice and no one would know the difference. He spoke well, he was more mannerly than she ever could be, he was as educated as she was, which meant he could hold his own against any of the men in the palace. André was groomed to be the perfect gentleman. If Oscar were a man she was sure she would have been just as great a gentleman. Then she could be with André all the time. Of course she couldn't marry André, but it wasn't like she really wanted to get married anyway.

Perhaps that was what she really wanted. She wanted to be a man so she could have more freedom. She knew t his was an odd wish for a girl, but now she was more certain that she wanted that more than anything. It was in her blood and in her name. She wasn't given a girl's name she was Oscar François de Jarjayes. She should be a man. They arrived home not a moment too soon. André assumed his duty of helping her out of the carriage. He seemed eager to release her but she held his hand fast in her own before he could pull away.

"André…" she began. There was no way she could tell him what she had been pondering, not while wearing the horrendous Versailles garb. "You and I are going hunting tomorrow. Don't forget."

"I won't," he replied with an easy grin. She retired to her room and peeled of the pretentious layers. Of course, in order to do this, she needed Annette's help. Whenever Annette was around, that meant that she had to hear all the gossip about herself. Oscar didn't want to hear about her and Girodelle, she had been there and experienced it. Annette unbuttoned the silk gown, loosed her from the corset and after that Oscar dismissed her. There were some things she was quite capable of doing herself and dressing for an ordinary day was one of them. She donned her favorite green dress and loosed the pins from her hair. Oscar felt that for the most part she could smile back at the person in the mirror, she knew that girl was herself though she had many faults.

She set out to find André right away. She wanted to be sure that he still felt comfortable around her, that there wasn't this huge separation between them. Oscar couldn't explain it, but she needed that closeness with him. Perhaps it was because he was her only friend. She would have been so very lonely without him. Who else would have accepted her for who she was? She was a girl who could skewer grown men with a saber in a matter of seconds. A girl who could speak Latin while doing several popular waltzes on demand. Not even Girodelle knew all her hidden talents and she didn't want him to become so intimately acquainted with her.

Grey clouds had begun to form in the once cloudless sky, but Oscar found André feeding the horses. He didn't turn to acknowledge her, but she knew he was aware of her presence. Without hesitation, she ran up behind him and jumped on his back. He was obviously surprised by her sudden action, but got his footing and supported her weight quickly.

"Hey, I thought you were going to rest," he said. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave him a tight squeeze.

"Resting is for ladies. Being with you is so much more fun," she told him.

"Oscar, you are a lady. Or did you forget in the five minutes since you put on your 'crazy dress?'"

"It's my 'comfy dress,'" she corrected. "Are you done with work?"

"Pretty much. You want me to carry you somewhere?"

"No, but we can walk somewhere together," she said. He let her down and she couldn't help but grin at him. She couldn't explain it, but she loved the way he smiled. The way his eyes crinkled up made his green eyes gleam in this dreamy way. Of course, she would never tell him that.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"To the orchard," she declared. His smile only grew and she put an arm around his shoulder.

"Oh it's good to be back home," she breathed as they left the stable.

"I agree," he said. "I don't get to see you at all."

She looked down, not wanting to think about never seeing André again if she married Girodelle. The clouds got thicker, but neither of them noticed. They didn't say much on their trip to the orchard. Oscar couldn't imagine what André was thinking about, but she knew what she was thinking about. She wished that she could be a man. Then André would never have to leave her. If she were a man and got married, André would be expected to come with her. André would have to go with her to a lot more places. This brought her back to the question André had asked her a few days ago: why did she want him to be with her all the time?

The two of them settled beneath a tree in the orchard when thunder rumbled.

"Oscar, we should go back, it's going to rain," André suggested.

"Why? We just got here," she said.

"If you get sick Nanny will be so upset," he protested.

"Nanny gets upset over everything."

"If you get sick I'll never forgive myself."

"Even if I forgive you already?"

The rain began to fall. Distracted by the sudden change in weather he didn't answer her question. Oscar sighed and let the rain soak her hair. She somehow always felt at peace with nature. Without another word, she climbed onto the lowest tree limb.

"Oscar, the bark is slippery," André warned.

"And this tree is not very tall," she told him. André sighed and stared up at her as she maneuvered through the branches.

"Please come down," he begged. She sighed and shook her soaking wet curls.

"You're such a worrier. I'm not too far off the ground. I've climbed trees for so long, nothing is going to ha—"

One slight movement and her boots slipped on the slick surface of the bark and she plummeted from the branch she had been standing on. André rushed to her, breaking her fall for the most part.

"Ow…" she said. "O.k. maybe you were right…"

"Are you hurt?" he asked. She moved to get to her feet and winced.

"Ah…I think I hurt my ankle," she mumbled.

"Let me see," he said. Oscar complied, lifting her skirts so André could remove her boot. His fingers pressed gingerly against her skin, and she hissed.

"I don't think anything's broken. Let's go back," he said. With an arm around her waist helped her limp down the path.

"At this rate we'll both get sick," he said.

"So what do you propose we—what are you doing?" she snapped as he picked her up.

"You can walk very fast, you can run very fast, but you can't limp very fast at all," he said. She was silent, Oscar was unused to this sort of weakness.

"I can limp faster than you," she asserted. André chuckled and held her closer.

"I know," he told her. She supposed that if she had to sprain her ankle around any man, she was better off doing so around André. Her father would have scolded her for her poor judgment, and Girodelle would have said something about the fragility of women. André didn't chide her about the fact that she didn't heed his warning, nor did he make her feel inferior for a moment of clumsiness. He knew she felt bad enough already and was in pain. Sometimes his habit of keeping quiet about important things really was a big help.

"André, sometimes I wish I was a boy," she said.

"Why's that?" he asked, his eyes focused on the path ahead.

"If I was a boy I could choose my own way. I wouldn't be forced to do things I don't want to do," Oscar continued.

"You think that men are not expected to do anything?"

Oscar looked up at him, "I wouldn't have to get married or appear in court…"

"If you were a man you would be expected to take some sort of military command. You'd probably have Girodelle's job."

"I'd be better at it than he is."

"You'd be better at it now, I'm sure. Plus you couldn't marry just anyone. You'd have to marry in your station."

"I have to marry in my station as it is."

The discussion ended and both of them were quiet the rest of the walk home. They both could predict what would happen. They would try to sneak in quietly, but Nanny would find them. She'd shout at André for getting Oscar soaking wet, then realize that he was carrying her and scold him for being inappropriate. If she paused long enough for Oscar to interject and explain she was injured, then André would be shouted at even louder for getting Oscar hurt. André would be sentenced to no supper and Oscar would be ordered to stay off her feet for the rest of the evening. Things went as expected down to the letter.

The doctor was sent for and would probably arrive early the next morning. In the quiet of her room, Oscar thought about what André had pointed out about being a man. She would probably have Girodelle's position. Which meant she'd be at court far more often than she was already, plus she'd have a job to do. She certainly would be expected to marry some feather brained woman. Perhaps being a man had its own drawbacks. André should know better than anybody she supposed.

There was a knock on her door. It was probably Annette with her dinner.

"Come in," she called. Much to her surprise it was André.

"Your mother said I should come up," he said putting her dinner tray on the table. He brought one of the plates over to her.

"Well, how sweet. But this is way too much for me to eat by myself. Care to join me?" she offered.

"I'd be delighted," he said, setting her drink on her night stand.

"You may not be dancing for a few days," he said as he grabbed the extra fork on the tray.

"Oh I'm not complaining. Though I can't dance with you either," she said. "Did you dry off enough?"

"Yeah, I'll be o.k." he said.

"Because if you get sick, I could never forgive myself," she said. André turned a little red, but he chuckled despite his embarrassment.

"I have to stop saying things like that around you," he said. Oscar nibbled at her food a bit and smirked.

"I'll bet you say that to all the girls," she said. André didn't say anything in response. Something about his silence made her wonder…what kind of challenges did he face in his life? Some day she'd find out she was sure.

* * *

That's all for now! I will love you forever if you can figure out where I got the names for Girodelle's lady friends.


	4. Belles and Bells

**Chapter Three:**

**Belles and Bells**

* * *

Another ball. For Oscar, life had become one party after another. It had been nearly two months since her debut in Versailles and she was slowly finding her place. She found solace in older, mature women who were less likely to gossip aimlessly and talked of more interesting things like music and art. Though they found her hobbies strange, they appreciated her talent for playing piano and her interest in literature. It was there that one of the ladies sketched her for the first time. Though Oscar did not appreciate her dressings, the picture really captured her. Her father seemed to be pleased with her associates.

Still, at least twice a week, she had to make appearances at the nightly balls. Girodelle always escorted her, and she knew that they were the "it" couple. Oscar wasn't sure what to make of this. If she refused him, she'd be seen as a horrible tease. The thing was, she wasn't teasing, or at least she didn't intend to. Her back was against the wall, she didn't want to be with him, but she was forced to. What other choice did she have? No other man had expressed interest in her, and if she wasn't married soon it was off to a convent.

In the end, she felt more and more that she'd rather be alone than continue lying. Well, she wouldn't be entirely alone in a convent, there'd be other sisters. However, she wasn't particularly religious. After thinking about her situation further, she found she would be lying to God either way. She couldn't vow before God to love Girodelle in marriage and she couldn't vow she willingly devoted her life to Him either. She hoped God would accept that she'd rather only lie to one person instead of two.

She refused to marry Girodelle. She didn't love him and wouldn't pretend that she'd be a loyal and loving wife. What did love have to do with anything anymore? Marriage was a financial agreement, love in a marriage was entirely by chance. Oscar didn't think it was right to have such a view, but that's what her relationship with Girodelle seemed to be coming to.

Oscar didn't tell her parents about this just yet. She knew her father would be more than a little disappointed. Her mother had tried so hard just to get her this opportunity, Oscar knew she'd felt that she wasted her time. Nanny would be sad because she'd never see her in a white dress. What would André think? She never asked him what he thought about her getting married. She was sure that he wanted her to be happy and he knew that she didn't like Girodelle. Oscar would have assumed that he would agree with her getting married. If she knew André, she knew that sometimes he wouldn't tell her everything he was thinking. There was only one way to know what he thought of the whole situation for sure and that was to ask him directly and give him no way out.

Oscar couldn't think of a proper way to ask him, it was a subject that even she avoided and André didn't bring it up. It was one day when summer's oppressive heat was at its peak that it came up almost naturally. They were at their "secret spot" by the river. André was fishing and Oscar had tagged along because she hated being inside. They sat side by side, their feet submerged in the streaming water.

"It's hard to believe that summer is here already, the year is halfway gone!" she commented.

"I know," André said. "A lot happened this year and it's not even over. You'll be married before winter hits I'm sure."

"I'm glad one if us is certain," she told him kicking her feet lightly.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of refusing Girodelle?" André asked.

Oscar didn't respond right away and chewed in the inside of her cheek, "Yes. I just don't love him and I can't lie to him his whole life. I can't pretend forever!"

"Oscar think about what you're doing. You'd be in a convent for the rest of your life, not being allowed to even pretend to love anything outside of sisterly duties."

"I'd rather never love than pretend to be in love."

"Convents aren't all rosaries and elegant abbeys," André protested. "They're cold, sometimes they're fraught with disease, there won't be anyone to wait on you hand and foot. Oscar it's not the life you're used to. You won't be able to ride, hunt, shoot or fence."

"You think Girodelle will let me do any of those things?"

"Yes, I do. In fact, I'd rather you be with him than in a place where you'd be miserable restricted and die."

"I'd be miserable and restricted with him!"

"But you'd be comfortable!"

"So you _want_ me to marry him?"

"Yes, Oscar! It may not seem like it and I know you hate court drama, but you'd be better off with Girodelle than in a convent."

"I don't believe this. My own best friend who is supposed to know me better than anyone wants me to go on a course that will bring me nothing but misery!"

She stood up and brushed off her breeches.

"You know what? I'll try things your way," she said in an irritated tone. "At the next ball, I'll lay it on thick, I'll bat my eyes and make that man love me more than ever. Then we'll see just how happy I'll be with him!"

Before she could turn to walk away, André had his arms around her.

"Thank you. Now I can stop worrying about you all the time," he whispered. Something about the slight waver in his voice made her regret the sarcastic tone she used with him. He held her close and ran a hand through her tangled curls.

"Soon, I know you'll be safe inside a big house with everything you're used to. I'm…I'm glad."

Oscar couldn't find it in herself to be upset. André was only concerned about her overall well being.

"But André…I'd never see you again."

He didn't say anything, but held her tighter as she rested her forehead on his shoulder. They wordlessly went back to the riverbank and sat beside each other as before, unable to discuss the future anymore. Oscar moved closer to André and hugged his arm. What would she do if André was really gone from her forever?

As if to give her no way out, when she and Andre returned to the manor, they saw Girodelle's carriage pull up. Oscar narrowed her eyes and turned her horse away and rode off. Andre followed behind.

"Aren't you going to talk to him?" he said. She urged her horse to go faster. She didn't want to think about what he was here for. Her life was being decided behind closed doors and she didn't like the idea of it. Why did she have no say in what happened to her? And yet she had promised Andre that she'd try to accept him, try to accept this life that was to be hers. A life as Girodelle's wife. And she didn't want that, she didn't want Girodelle. She wasn't sure what she wanted but it wasn't her dream to be a wife and mother.

_But what exactly do I want?_ she thought. She urged her horse even faster.

"Don't tire him out!" Andre chided. She finally stopped the horse form galloping and pulled it to a slower trot. Andre caught up to her and sighed.

"You've got to go back and face what's going to happen," he said.

"You think he'd propose to me while I'm wearing breeches?" she said with a bitter smile.

Andre laughed, "I would."

Oscar glanced over at him and he didn't look at her. She shrugged off the slightly awkward moment and stopped. She closed her eyes and gripped her reins tightly. This was crucial. She could go back and accept her fate, or she could...did she really have another choice? She closed her eyes. It was a difficult one, but she had another choice.

She turned abruptly and started for home.

"So this is it, you've made your decision," Andre said. She nodded.

"Will you stand by me?" she asked.

"As long as I can," he said.

She ran a hand through her hair, "Good. I need the support right now."

Andre took the horses back to the stables and Oscar headed for the house. Girodelle was still there, and Nanny elbowed her lightly as she came in. Oscar rolled her eyes and headed for her room. She was intercepted by her mother.

"Please, try to look nice, Girodelle has been waiting for you while you were out riding," she said.

"Yes, Mother," Oscar said. She kissed her and hugged her tightly.

"This will be the start of a whole new life for you," her mother said. "I'm so happy."

Oscar didn't quite share the excitement. She went to her room and pulled on her favorite green dress. It wasn't fancy and probably would make her parents upset, but Girodelle had to see her like this. This was when she was most comfortable and she wasn't going to accept appearing before him in her own home any other way. She was shown to the drawing room. Her father harumphed in anger at her appearance but Girodelle didn't seem to share his displeasure.

"My how charming and sweet you look!" he said coming to his feet. He took her hand in his and kissed it. She sighed and frowned deeply. She didn't like this, not one bit.

"I hear you've come to see me," she said. Her father bowed out and Oscar swallowed. Girodelle now held her hand with both of his. He stroked her knuckles with his thumb.

"Oscar, as you have guessed over these past few months, I've grown quite attached to you," he said. Oscar drew a deep breath and lowered her head. She couldn't hide the blush that graced her cheeks. It was embarrassment for all the wrong reasons, and he would most certainly interpret it as shyness over his confessing his feelings so directly.

"Such an adorable response," he said. He tilted her head up so she could look at him. She wanted to glare at him, but she had promised Andre that she'd try this. She promised him.

"Oscar, I love you dearly. You are unlike any woman I've ever met. I'd be honored if you would become my bride," he said. "Please accept my humble proposal."

He got on one knee and held up a ring. Oscar stiffened and closed her eyes. Just say yes, she told herself. Just say yes! And yet something was holding her back, something froze her tongue. She opened her eyes finally and removed her hand.

"I'm still a little nervous about this, please allow me to consider for one more day," she said. Girodelle stood up and pocketed the ring.

"It's understandable. Becoming someone's wife is a big step. But I have high hopes that your response will be positive," he said. He drew her close and kissed her cheek. He bowed before he took his leave. Oscar looked down and fell to her knees before she started to cry. No, she didn't cry, tears threatened to come and she forced them back. She couldn't just say yes, she couldn't lie to him.

She left the room and ran outside. Tears that she refused to allow to fall clouded her vision and she ran for the one stronghold she had in this world. Andre was brushing the horses when she burst in, her face red.

"So did everything go well?" he said not turning around. She ran to him and hugged him from behind. She buried her face in his shirt and let the tears soak through. He wouldn't say anything, he wouldn't betray her weakness to the world. He placed his hands over hers. Finally, when she had let up, he turned around so he could hug her.

"What happened?" he said, holding her and running his fingers through her hair.

"I told him I'd give him my answer tomorrow," she said.

"Are you still scared?"

"Yes. And...Andre, do you really promise to support my decision?"

"Have I ever let you down?" he said. She squeezed him tighter.

"I'm not sure I can do this," she said.

"You're the strongest woman I know, you can do this. Plenty of women have done this before."

She gripped the fabric of his shirt and gave in to a new wave of tears.

"Just be there. I'm going to need you more than ever."

"I will."

She pulled away and knew he would never speak of her red cheeks and puffy eyes to anyone. Without thinking twice she stood on her tip toes to kiss his cheek before leaving.

"Thank you, Andre," she said. That was all she needed in order to do what she was about to do. She only hoped she would survive the night.

She went into her father's study unannounced. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't seem surprised at her arrival.

"Oscar, good to see you," he said. "I heard you are going to give Girodelle your answer tomorrow."

She nodded. She raised her chin a bit and closed her eyes. She could do this. She stood rigid, squared her shoulders and grit her teeth.

"I'm going to refuse him," she said. She heard her father's pen drop. He rose slowly his eyes dangerous and almost wild.

"What did you say?" he said. She didn't budge or flinch. She knew what was going to happen next.

"I intend to refuse Girodelle. I will not marry him," she said. He crossed the room and slammed her into the wall.

"Say that again!"

"I'm not going to marry him!"

He released her, but Oscar knew better than to relax. She was right, for she received a slap shortly after. She fell to the ground and held her face. She started to stand, but he pulled her up by the front of her dress.

"How dare you defy me!" he cried.

"Because you're asking me to do something that I cannot do," she said.

"You're a woman, of course you can get married!" he shouted.

"I don't love him!"

He shoved her away.

"Useless womanly drivel. What about your image? About my image! Don't you know what will happen to my reputation after this!"

"You raised three other wonderful daughters, it'll just be me that gets a bad image."

He slapped her again, "You will accept him!"

"Never!" she shouted.

He grabbed his sword just as Nanny and her mother came in.

"Oscar!" her mother cried. Andre came in just in time to hold her back.

"Don't get in the middle of this," he said. Oscar was unarmed, but she wasn't afraid for some reason. She ran away, but her father grabbed her hair. She fell down to the ground and knew this may be the end. He raised his arm, but he stopped suddenly. He released his sword and held his chest. Her fears switched from her own life to his.

"Father?" she said. He pushed her away as she came to steady him. Andre and Nanny ran for him, but he flailed wildly and collapsed. Oscar's mother knelt by him, while Andre ran to saddle up a horse and get a doctor. Oscar was right behind him.

"It's fine, Oscar, I can get the doctor myself," he said. Oscar shook her head.

"No, I must go and get the doctor," she said. Andre grabbed her by the arms.

"Stay with your father. Trust me to get help as fast as I can," he said. She nodded and ran back to her father's side.

"Father, hold on, Andre is getting help," she said and took his hand. His eyes shot open at the mention of Andre's name. He squeezed her hand.

"You...you can't..." he said.

"Just rest, dear," her mother said.

"Oscar, I know what you want...but you couldn't possibly live your life like that..." he said.

"Not now, father. We'll talk about this later," Oscar said.

"No, you must marry or else how...how..."

His voice became lost in agonizing grunts. Andre rode as fast as he could and brought back the doctor in the most timeliest of fashions. But it was too late for Lord DeJarjayes. He passed away before they could return.

* * *

Oscar was at her window dressed from head to toe in black. She heard the door open and close and smelled the tea. Yet the footsteps were heavy and there was no swish of skirts.

"Andre," she said. He set the tea set on the table and came to her side.

"You, all right?" he said. She didn't answer and held her arms.

"I... ]you know father and I always had our differences. I just wish our last moments weren't like that," she said. "I wish I had just accepted and..."

"What happened to your father could have happened at any time," he said. "You cannot control how God works."

"I don't have to marry Girodelle anymore," she said. "Bad news is, Mother wants me to try and win over the cousin that's to inherit our land."

"She's only thinking of your future," he said. Oscar looked down and twiddled her thumbs.

"Someone has to think of it, since I don't."

He knelt beside her and took her hand.

"Life is going to be harder for you from now on," he said.

"I can live without going to Versailles, but we may have to move and heavily downsize. Mother says we'll keep you and Nanny on with us no matter what," she said. "Even if you two are our last two servants, we'll not let you go."

"I told you I'd be with you for as long as I could," he said. He ran his thumb over her knuckles. Somehow that gesture felt so much more personal and comforting than when Girodelle did it. It wasn't a fair comparison, since it was entirely different circumstances.

"Andre, I don't want to marry my cousin," she said.

"I can't help you there," Andre said. "Perhaps...perhaps there will be another way for you."

Oscar sighed. They would either have to move in with one of her sisters or move away. And still she would always be pressured to get married to someone. There was a knock on the door. Nanny opened the door.

"Madamoiselle, the funeral procession is about to start," she said. Oscar rose and so did Andre. She held her shoulders back and went out to join her mother in the carriage behind the casket. For all the discord her father caused in her life, he had done what he thought was best. Though he had given her quite a confliction. She had all the mental capacity of a man and skills to defend herself, but she was in the ill fitting guise of a woman. She looked behind her at the other mourners. Right behind them, in another carriage was her cousin. She didn't know what to do about that, but she knew that there would be an answer soon enough.

When they were burying her father, she got her first glimpse of him. He was much older than her, her father's age. Unlike her father, he was portly, very grey and hadn't aged very well. Oscar didn't look at him much and he didn't seem particularly moved by the loss of his cousin. They were only distantly related anyhow. He didn't speak to her much on the way home, but he was to stay with them for a few days. Oscar didn't know what to expect.

Among the people to comfort her, Girodelle was one.

"I understand now is a hard time for you. You do not have to answer my question from our previous meeting," he said.

"No, I do," she said. "Before my father died, I told him that I was going to refuse you. He did not agree, but I stand by that resolve. I'm sorry, Girodelle. You are a very good man, but you are not for me."

He closed his eyes and placed a hand over his heart, "I'm sorry to hear that. Perhaps someday you will find you have changed your feelings toward me. In the meantime, may I have the honor of remaining your ever loyal friend?"

She honestly smiled at him. For once it was not because of anything but Girodelle's charm. She held out her hand and he kissed it.

"You shall have my friendship always," she said. He bowed and left her. She did feel bad about turning him down, but she had no intentions of accepting his proposal. Eventually as the crowds thinned so got a moment to speak with her cousin though briefly. She commented on how tired she was and he told her to take it easy. It was a short exchange, but she did get a positive impression. Still, she was not eager about the connection. She only saw him again once to bid him good night. She lay on her bed, her heart full of conflicting emotions and aching for any sort of answer to what was to become of her and her mother. Perhaps she'd get something soon.

Her answer came much sooner than she expected. The next morning after breakfast, her mother summoned her to the drawing room. She expected another forced engagement. This time, she went through the trouble of trying to look nice, wearing a powder blue dress and some jewelry. She sat in the room, afraid of what was going to happen.

"Dearest cousins," he began. "I am aware that convention dictates that I marry your lovely daughter, Oscar and we all live where ever I see fit. However, I've never married and I don't intend to marry. At the same time, I do not wish to move here. So I propose that you all stay here and maintain the property. In addition to what your are allotted to live on, I will add to it so that you can keep the manor here in working order. I do not particularly enjoy Versailles, so I may visit only once or twice a year. It won't be what you're used to, but I hope it is enough for you."

Oscar rose and gave him a hug.

"Thank you, dear cousin," she said. "Thank you so much."

She couldn't believe what was happening, but it was as though God, fate and the universe had aligned to make sure that she didn't get married to someone she didn't wish to. She couldn't wait for the rest of her life to begin.

* * *

Perhaps you all have missed me these past few years? Who am I kidding, you missed the fic, that's what. And don't thank me for this chapter, thank Kitten Kisses. She always seems to prompt me out of fic hibernation.


	5. Castling Oscar

**Chapter Four:**

**Castling Oscar**

* * *

About a year passed by without much happening. Without her father to push the issue and with funds being so tight, trips to Versailles were rare. Oscar felt bad for her mother being abandoned by so many friends, but she couldn't say she was upset about not being able to go to that horrible place. Her "reputation" was saved by the convenient timing of her father's death, so she was not seen as a horrible tease by the denizens of Versailles. However, Girodelle visited every so often. She even went hunting with him and a few of his friends once. Her cousin on the other hand kept true to form and visited only once. She filled her time with working hard around the manor. There were less servants, so wherever there was a discrepancy, she made up for it. She and Andre were even closer these days, often working together.

She came in from a hard day of tending to the orchards when she found Girodelle's coach out front. She sighed, she wasn't interested in social niceties right now.

"Tell him I'll see him in a moment," she said to her mother as she entered.

"No, he insisted it was urgent, go see him now," she said. Oscar sighed and went into the drawing room. Girodelle wasn't dressed for a social visit. In fact, he was in his uniform. She curtseyed and eyed him with confusion.

"What has happened? You never visited in your uniform before," she said and sat down. He did not sit.

"I have come to request your help for a special mission," he said. She raised an eyebrow.

"What would you have me do?" she asked.

"As you know, Princess Marie Antoinette of Austria is coming to France. I have reason to believe that there will be an attempt to kidnap her. We need a decoy princess," he said.

"And you're asking me to be this decoy princess," she said.

"You're the only woman I know who could handle herself should you actually be kidnapped," he said.

She grinned, "You've never banked on my skills before."

"I am now. Oscar, last time you came to Versailles you were able to defeat most of my men in swordplay while barely breaking a sweat. I am in need of your skills."

"For France I will do anything. And you're a friend, I'll gladly help."

He saluted her, "I thank you."

She waved her hand, "None of that."

"Please stay at Versailles for a few weeks so that I may brief you on the plan of action," he said. She looked up at him and furrowed her brows. It had been a long time since she'd been at Versailles that long. And the expense would be a bit much for her family.

"Don't worry about the money. The king himself was willing to fund your stay at Versailles," he said.

"Tell him that will not be necessary. I will be attending no balls. I am here strictly for business," she said.

"You will be compensated," he said. "You are doing France a service."

"Fair enough," she said as she rose.

"I will see you in Versailles in two days," he said. He bowed and Oscar curtsied. She saw him to the door and sighed as she leaned on the door jam. What did she need really for Versailles? She thought this over and went upstairs to start packing

Her mother came in as she started throwing a bag together.

"What is it that Girodelle wanted?" she asked.

"He wants me to help him transport the Princess of Austria. I'm to be her decoy," she said. Her mother didn't say anything at first and Oscar paused to examine her reaction. She was looking out the window with her hand pressed against her cheek.

"I'm not sure how I feel about this, Oscar," her mother said as she sat on her bed. "Why should Girodelle leave you to do such dangerous work? Doesn't he have some other person to use for this?"

Oscar laughed, "Are you suggesting he dress up one of his guards as a woman? I don't think any of those men would like that idea."

She lied, some of them would, but she wasn't naming names.

"I'll finish packing for you, dear. You always forget something. Tell Andre about your plans so he can get the horses ready," she said.

Oscar was about to protest when her mother grabbed the clothes she was holding and folded them. She sighed and went to the stables.

"Hey, Oscar. What did Girodelle have to say?" she said. She told him about the mission and Andre continued to brush the horses, never once stopping to look at her.

"So, what do you think?" she said. "You've barely said a word."

"I don't know what to say," he said. She stood beside him and he continued to avoid her gaze.

"You don't like the idea," she said. He didn't say anything and she grabbed the brush from him. "Come on, Andre. I'd never be able to serve France otherwise, this is a chance to live up to my father's legacy."

He smirked and grabbed the brush from her, "I have full confidence in you, but be careful anyway. I'll get the carriage ready."

"Andre, I'm going to request that you come with me on the mission," she said. He turned to her, his eyes wide.

"What?" he asked.

She couldn't explain it, but she couldn't keep her eyes on his. She ran her fingers through her hair.

"I need you to be there in case something happens. Girodelle will be busy and I don't trust any of the guards. I'll let you know if Girodelle approves of this," she said. She glanced at him and smiled seeing the way his face lit up.

"Sure, Oscar, whatever you need, I'll do it," he said. She nodded.

"Well, get the carriage ready first," she said. She left and grabbed a lock of her hair and attempted to smooth the curls out. It was true, she didn't trust the guards and Girodelle would be thinking of the princess and not about her. Only Andre would be able to truly be of service to her. She silently hoped Girodelle would not be in one of his moods that would make everything she suggested seem unreasonable.

Andre drove her to Versailles, she took no other servant with her. She waited on herself now a days, she was used to it. A few women recognized her and whispered behind their fans. She paid them no mind, she had better things to do. She was escorted to the briefing room where Girodelle and a few other soldiers were waiting. She sat down and ignored all the odd looks she got.

The plan was simple, at the rendezvous point, Oscar would dress as Marie Antoinette and the princess would continue as a hand maid and ride in a separate carriage that Girodelle could monitor. When they arrived at the palace, Marie Antoinette would change into her royal garb and meet the prince.

"What will happen to Lady Oscar if she is kidnapped?" someone asked.

"Don't you worry about that," Oscar said. "I will make one request. I would like my servant Andre to accompany me."

Girodelle consented and Oscar hid her relief. Now she could truly be at ease.

* * *

Only a week passed and Marie was to arrive. Early in the morning she rose and wore a simple dress so that changing would be easier. She met Girodelle outside. He was on his horse he greeted her with a smile as he bowed as best he could. She curtseyed.

"Good morning, Captain Girodelle," she said.

"Good morning. As you requested, your footman is here. I gave him a horse and instructed him to keep an eye on you," he said. Andre rode up and got of the horse and bowed. Oscar couldn't help but smile. His clothes were much fancier: lavender, pale blue and white brocade, crisp stockings, his shoes were new and the buckles bright. Even his brown curly hair was tamed, though she noted he still wore one of her ribbons.

"Well, you look like a proper royal footman," she said. "Much better than a being a stable boy for a simple country lord, I assume."

Andre managed a laugh and looked as though he were about to say something. He stopped, glanced up at Girodelle and then bowed. Oscar's smile faded a bit. She had almost forgotten where she was and the distance it put between her and Andre. He took her hand and led her to the carriage. His grip on her hand was tighter than hid had been before and he helped her in. She nodded to him and his eyes lingered on hers before he went back to his horse. Girodelle came to her window.

"We're leaving now," he said.

The ride wasn't terribly long. They arrived at the checkpoint in good time. She and Andre shared moments of quiet reassurance. He rode by her window and they'd sneak each other glances and smile. Their communication had to be quite guarded with so many looking. He helped her out of the carriage and took his position, while Oscar stayed inside the house.

Inside was slightly more tense for Oscar than being out there with the men. She was the object of envy and was having an increasingly hard time ignoring the ladies in waiting and maids who eyed her jealously. This was not about the finery she was to wear. This was making sure a princess did not get killed.

"The princess is here!" a maid said. The women rushed over to the window. Oscar went to another window and decided to take a gander at this girl. She was in all the finery of Austria, but Oscar barely took note of it. Her lovely hair, her wide blue eyes and her sweet face. Oh, yes, she looked like a fairy tale princess. She wasn't that much younger than Oscar, but she was so fresh, youthful and full of life.

"Oh, such a shame to put such a lovely creature in servant's clothes," one of the ladies remarked. Oscar made no effort to react to the pointed glare she got after that statement. She simply went to the room adjacent to the princess's changing room and waited. It was about fifteen minutes later when she heard high pitched screaming and figured it was the princess. She rolled her eyes, every rose had its thorns she supposed.

People were scurrying around the house looking for her, but Oscar knew better. Marie, while a princess, was a child. Where would a child hide? Oscar found the girl hiding behind a screen. She sighed, this woman was going to someday be the Queen of France and she was acting so immature. Oscar moved the screen, crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow as Marie cowered.

"What are you doing? Are you going to turn me in?" she said. Oscar grinned and shook her head.

"How abut this, we can play a prank," she said. Marie's face lit up and Oscar suppressed her laughter. Marie was very easy to amuse.

"Dress up like a hand maid and I'll pose as you. We'll fool everyone at court, and it will be great fun, don't you think?"

Marie nodded, "That's a great idea!"

"I've got a few others who are in on the game, let's go meet them and get this show on the road," she said. She and Marie went to the dressing room. While Marie was outfitted in a maid's outfit, Oscar being outfitted in a dress that was more elaborate and probably cost more than her family's income for ten years. She surprised herself when she looked in the mirror. She was so ornately dressed and honestly, she kind of liked it. At the same time, she thought of what such a position meant and sobered up immediately. Marie on the other hand was gleefully spinning in the mirror.

"Do you think the prince will laugh? Won't the king be amused!' she said. Oscar chuckled.

"Yes, they'll think it's hysterical," she said.

"What about you, won't you get in trouble?"

"Don't worry about that," Oscar said. She exited the building, Marie close behind her. Oscar didn't want to catch Andre's eye, she didn't want to break the façade. A faceless person helped her into the carriage. She waved hr fan as a signal to Girodelle who ordered the caravan to continue. Oscar sat in the royal coach. She now had a taste of what royalty was like. It seemed nice but she didn't care for it. She looked out the window. Riding toward the back of the royal guard was Andre. She was glad he was there. It wasn't so much that Girodelle needed help, as it was making sure Oscar didn't kill herself. She had a knack for biting off more than she could chew and this seemed like it could be one of those times.

She smiled at Andre. Girodelle saw this smile, assumed it was for him and nodded to her. Her grin faded and she sat back and frowned. Why did she always give him the wrong impression? There was a disturbance and the caravan pulled to a stop.

"What's holding us," she asked. Next thing she knew, someone was on top of her carriage. There were bullets fired, but they missed.

"That's why I told them to work on their aim," she grumbled. She reached under her petticoats and thumbed her pistol strapped to her leg. Before she could react, she was snatched out of the carriage. There was a lot of shouting and gunfire, but the men managed to get away. She counted. Three. She could take them. She had her sword somewhere in the mass of lace under her dress. Should she run out of bullets, she wasn't unprepared.

A bag was thrown over her head but she didn't even make a show of screaming. Girodelle would continue and a small band of men would follow her. But these men were moving much faster than anticipated. She was taken to a cave.

"Is this really her?" a man asked.

"Well, she's dressed all fancy, who else could it be?"

"She doesn't look like the pictures."

Oscar didn't say anything, but the bag was removed from her head. She stood up and raised her head.

"She's certainly aloof like royalty," someone said. She whipped out her gun and pointed it at the nearest man.

"Who are you working for?" she said.

"That ain't very royal," a man said as he drew his sword. Oscar fired and fumbled for her sword. She felt a surge of relief as she was able to pull it out in time. With a few well placed strikes, she bested the other two and ran out of the cave. She was pursued by a few other men who seemed to come from the shadows. It was hard to hide in such a cumbersome dress and even harder to run. So she had no choice by to try and fight. It was much more taxing than she hoped and still the dress was the property of France, she had no right to rip it to make it easier to move. And the stupid corset was pulled so tight, she was having trouble keeping up the energy needed.

_Can't these royal guards catch up any faster?_ she thought. She heard hooves behind her. She turned and saw Andre jump off his horse and drew his sword.

"I'll buy you some time," he said. She didn't need to hear twice, she reloaded her gun and shot over his shoulder.

"Where are those guards?" she said.

"On their way," he said.

"How'd you get there so quickly?"

He grinned but focused on fighting off the remaining men. Most of them were wounded or dead. She cornered one of the living men and grabbed him.

"Who hired you!" she said. He gasped through his pain.

"It was...It was..." a knife in the back silenced him. She tried to find out who threw it, but to no avail. The other men were dead and the guards arrived just in time to retrieve the bodies and escort Oscar and Andre back to the second rendezvous point. Girdoelle ran to her as Andre helped her off his horse.

"Oscar, are you all right?" he said. She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear and smirked.

"Of course I'm fine," she said. She was lying, of course. She was sweaty, tired and could barely breathe. She was shown to a room so she could wash up. She was given a new change of clothing. When she saw how fancy it was she was ready to decline it.

"But, Mademoiselle, it is a gift from Princess Marie Antoinette," the maid said. "The princess wishes you to ride with her."

Oscar accepted with some reservation. She joined the princess in her carriage.

"Good evening, Lady Oscar," Marie said.

"I'm glad to see you are well, your highness," she said with a bow. Marie took her hands.

"Thank you so much for putting yourself in danger for me," she said. "I would probably be dead if you hadn't replaced me in the carriage."

"It's no trouble, merely serving my country."

Marie sat back and grinned thoughtfully, "I was a bit worried to hear that Oscar DeJarjayes was replacing me. How could they assign a man to replace me? But I was relieved to know you're a woman. Let's be great friends, Oscar."

Oscar shook her head, "I'm afraid that's impossible. I'm not going to be at Versailles very often. When I'm there I will gladly join you when you summon me."

"Why can't you be at Versailles?"

"It's nothing to concern yourself with, Your Highness."

Marie sat back and furrowed her brow.

"Please do not look so vexed. It does not suit the future queen of France," Oscar said.

"I would like you to be my personal guard," she said.

"You have Girodelle for that."

"I'll do anything to have you at Versailles, anything! You deserve to be with the best people, for you've done France a great service!"

"It's not any trouble at-"

"I'll arrange something. You should be with me, you truly are a great woman and I must have you at my side."

Oscar didn't protest anymore but she was not excited at the thought of having to be at Versailles. Yet, how rude would it be to refuse the princess? She decided not to completely ruin her life and that of her mother's and let the princess have her way. She had a feeling that things would not be as wonderful as Marie wanted them to be.

She was staying the night at Versailles and she remembered why she hated that place. She was given a royal treatment. She was dressed in finery and brought before the king. She kneeled before him and he thanked her greatly on behalf of France. She was given a lot of gold and she was made one of Marie Antoinette's ladies in waiting.

She was glad her face was lowered or else everyone would have seen her displeasure. Yet when she rose her face was a mask of indifference and cool reverence for the King. She thanked him deeply for his generosity toward her. As she left, Marie came out to meet her in the hall.

"Now that you're my lady in waiting, you'll be taken care of. I heard about your troubles this past year. I'm sorry for your loss," she said.

"Your Highness is too kind. But I do not need much," she said.

"I hear you're a most interesting woman. You shoot guns, bows and arrows, you fence, you hunt, and you speak Latin, oh there's so many things everyone says you can do!"

Oscar looked down. For once she was cursing all that she was taught to do. As much as it turned people off, it also made people very interested in her. First, Girodelle now the princess of France. She smiled just a little.

"Whatever will amuse my princess, I will do," she said. Marie squealed and clapped her hands.

"We're going to have so much fun, Oscar," she said taking her arm. Oscar breathed deeply and kept her practiced grin on. She knew this was an honor, she knew that she should be overjoyed that the princess took such an interest in her. And yet...and yet all she could think of was going home and being with Andre. She didn't want to be with the princess, she wanted to be climbing apple trees and tending to her home. She didn't understand why anyone could want this stuffy life when there was so much to be done with her hands. She preferred the company of the servants in her manor to the people in Versailles.

_Poor Marie Antoinette, she has no idea how much she's going to tear me apart with her friendship_, Oscar thought.

* * *

I don't have much to say. Maybe sorry this came out late?


	6. Social Climbing

**Chapter Five:**

**Social Climbing**

* * *

Everyone took the news of her new position differently. Her mother and Nanny were overjoyed. Andre seemed happy, but she could see the traces of some other emotion that mirrored her own misgivings. She wanted to talk to him about it, but found no opportunity. She used the money to buy her mother a few new dresses so that she could attend Versailles and fix up their carriage so it would be more presentable in their new surroundings. Oscar did not buy herself anything new. The dresses she was given for her work were more than enough. She was going to do Versailles her way or no way. First and foremost, she was going to be fashionable, but not over the top. It would be a complete insult to the princess not to attempt to look nice. But it would go against herself to be overly frilly.

Oscar found a seamstress willing to have a happy medium and also add a pocket for her pistol and bullets. It was a silly notion, but she never knew when she'd need it. So she arrived at Versailles and got a few whispers. She ignored them. This was going to be a constant factor in her life and she had to get used to it.

Marie was just glad to see her and welcomed her with open arms.

"I'm sorry to summon you so soon," Marie said. "But I need someone at my side. We're going through all the preparations for the wedding and it's a lot more than I expected."

Oscar had never been interested in weddings. Still, she was patient as Marie went through all the details. Her dressings, the food, the music, the dancing, the procession to the church, the carriages. Oscar sipped her tea and listened carefully. Try though she did, she couldn't concentrate on Marie. She wanted to be outside more than anything.

"So the prince makes locks," Marie said, trailing a finger over the rim of her tea cup.

"Yes. That's his favorite hobby," Oscar said. Marie sighed and nodded. Oscar noticed something in her eyes. Disappointment? Or was it disillusionment? Oscar had nothing but respect for the prince, but based off her impression of him, he certainly wasn't the prince you read of in fairy tales.

And certainly that was what Marie was hoping for, Oscar thought. She must feel cheated a bit. She couldn't say she didn't relate, she imagined herself getting married to Girodelle. True, he was a very nice man and of all the nobles she met, he'd be the most open about her quirks. But he was so... so... he was given to conventions. He found her amusing and beautiful, but he didn't love her per say. He loved the idea of her and his attraction was only increased by her military background. She didn't know what to do.

"Can you show me how to shoot a gun?" Marie asked.

Oscar shook her head, "I'm sorry your majesty, that might not be a good idea."

"Well, could you give a demonstration. Show off your skills for me?"

'If it would please you," Oscar said. Marie clapped and jumped up.

"I'll tell Girodelle to get the targets ready! I'm so excited!" she said. Oscar sighed. She didn't know how she ended up like this, somehow she was like the princess's babysitter. She headed toward the gun room. There several cadets eyed her as she took a gun. She glared at them.

"Work on your aim. If I had been the princess being abducted, France would have been in a lot of trouble right now," she said. She tossed her curls and went outside. Marie was sitting on the veranda under an umbrella. Girodelle was beside her a slight smile on his lips. She wished he wouldn't look at her like that. She didn't return the smile.

"Show me what you can do!" Marie said. Oscar mechanically shot through each target's center with all the regimented timing of a soldier. Marie giggled and ran over to her. Oscar curtseyed.

"I'm glad you were pleased with my demonstration," she said.

"I'm more than pleased! In fact, I'd like to see a contest between you and Girodelle!"

Oscar shook her head in protest, but Girodelle stepped to the challenge.

"That is a wonderful proposal, your majesty," he said.

"Don't you have more pressing things to do, like make sure your men can hit a target? We already know _you_ are skilled," she said.

"Oh, Oscar, don't be so dutiful! Let loose and have some fun!" Girodelle said. Oscar rolled her eyes and got ready. The contest was basic. They would set up targets a certain distance away and move them back a few meters for every one both managed to hit through the center. Who ever was the most accurate from the most distance won.

"This will go on all day," she said as she readied her pistol.

"I've not had a worthy opponent in a while," Girodelle said.

"There must be someone as good as you around here," she said.

"Ready?"

Oscar and Girodelle fired. They both hit their mark. A new set of targets was set up a few meters back. Once again, they hit their marks.

"If you win, Oscar I'll make you my new royal guard!" Marie said.

Girodelle smirked, "I think all of use would follow you to the ends of the earth."

She narrowed her eyes and fired at the target. Girodelle shot right after.

"Your men should be willing to follow you," she said.

"They are. And I'd willingly follow you. Your skill is impressive, regardless as to whether you are a man or woman."

Oscar raised her eyebrows, but didn't look at him, "I gladly accept that compliment. But you are being far too kind."

"Well, the only one who could possibly be better than you is myself," he said. She smirked and shot at the target.

"Girodelle, I do appreciate your kindness, but you do realize I only view you as a friend and I do not intend to return your affections."

"I understand."

They shot through the next target.

"The targets are on the wall, now," Girodelle said. "What happens if we both hit our targets?"

"We both get to be captain of the royal guards for Marie Antoinette," she said. He laughed. They both hit their targets. Marie jumped up and applauded.

"You two are amazing! And Oscar, I've never met a woman like you. You're too much for words!" she said.

"You are too kind," Oscar said.

"Oh, do come and see me tomorrow morning. I fear I'm being summoned for another fitting. Oscar, the king wishes to have a dress commissioned for you. Since you're to be among my party, he insists that you be dressed according to the latest fashion."

Oscar sighed. She curtseyed to Girodelle and went to her room. She didn't stay there long, just enough so she could put on her riding habit and run out to the stables.

"Andre!" she called, "Saddle up my horse."

He did just that and got ready to see her off when she stopped him.

"Please, lead the horse down the trail," she asked. He did as she asked without questioning. Sometimes she was overly grateful that he did this. The trail was quiet, not many people were out riding in this part today.

"This is the only place I can talk to you freely," she said.

"Something wrong?" he said.

"I hate it here," she said. "I wish there was some way to get out of this, but the princess is so insufferable. And to deny her any request is like denying the king. I'm up for all kinds of trouble, but I can't defy the king! I could barely survive defying my father."

"You'll think of some way to navigate," he said. She now resented Marie even more for the simple reason that now Andre would not even look at her while they were alone. Her friend was so distant and she didn't want things to be this way. They had been together forever, she wasn't gong to let anyone pull him away from her.

"Andre," she said trying to get his attention.

"Yes, Oscar?" he said.

"Andre, I want to go home," she said. "I want us to go riding together."

I want us to be riding side by side, look at each other eye to eye, she wanted to add. They continued to ride for another hour or so, all the while he avoided direct eye contact. As he helped her off, she took his hands.

"Andre, I'm not happy here," she said.

"I know," he said. "There's nothing I can do for you."

"Just...just be here for me. I have such peace of mind knowing you're here."

"I have to go home and get your mother. She wishes to be at Versailles for the night. But I will be back."

She nodded. She wanted to do something else, hug him or something. She settled for squeezing his hands.

* * *

Oscar had already been to three weddings. Each one was the same. The royal wedding was a bit of an exception, as it was definitely far more interesting and flashy than her sister's weddings, but that as to be expected. It was a sumptuous wedding certainly, and she enjoyed herself as much as she could under these circumstances. She still had no idea why Marie had latched onto her so, or why the king was obliging and allowing Oscar, who was for all intents and purposes a nobody to be friends with her. Oscar may have had rank, but she and her mother were poor.

_Perhaps he believes that this is a form of charity, to help my father's family. He did hold him high regard_, she thought. Charity hopefully offset his sins. Madame du Barry was not present at the wedding thankfully. Oscar was kind to her out of propriety, but she honestly didn't care for the woman. She was haughty, conniving and had a pretty sketchy background. Marie and Louis took some time to themselves and Oscar went home. she was glad to do this, she was tired of being with Marie. She was a sweet girl, but unbearably childish at times. Once she was home, she shed her fancy dress and put on her familiar green one. She ran out to meet Andre and shoved him.

"What was that for?" he said.

"You're it," she said and took off running.

"Oscar, we're much too old to be playing these games!" he called after her. Still, he had taken off running after her and she smirked. She did feel a bit hypocritical for berating Marie for her childishness and roping Andre into a children's game right after, but she needed to run and breathe. Andre caught her only because she let him. They fell to the ground and rolled on the grass a bit. Oscar laughed hard. She lay on her back in the sun.

"I'm so glad to be home. I feel like I'm robbed of a friend whenever I go there," she said.

"You have to make other friends Oscar," Andre said. "What about Girodelle?"

"You know how I feel about him," she said. He shrugged and put his arms behind his head.

"If I were a girl, I'd be all over him. Why'd you turn him down anyway?" he said.

"Don't worry about that. I'm just glad to have some time away from that place. Let's go hunting tomorrow," she said.

He stood up and held a hand out to her to help her to her feet, "Sounds like a good idea."

She put her arm around his waist and smiled. A few days of peace. She leaned her head on his shoulder. Andre didn't say anything, but put his arm protectively around her shoulders.

* * *

Oscar's peace was not to last. She was summoned to Versailles about two weeks later. She was to help Marie with her new acquaintances around the palace. It was simple enough, Marie had to greet people before they could speak to her. For the most part things went very smoothly and people seemed to like Marie. Then Madame Du Barry came. Marie noticed the change in everyone's demeanor and leaned to Oscar.

"Who is that woman?" she asked.

"No one you need concern yourself with," Oscar said. Marie didn't speak to her that day, but Oscar worried when she saw the older aunts swarm around her. Honestly, Oscar didn't like those women either. Something about the way they carried themselves and spoke to others rubbed her the wrong way. She hoped they wouldn't get Marie into too much trouble.

Oscar had other things to worry about. Suddenly she was a court darling. She was intentionally cold and yet many people seemed to want to be around her. It was because of her being so close to the princess. Oscar entertained no one she didn't wish to see. But it didn't stop more men than ever from being overly familiar. She always took Andre with her when they went hunting and didn't let him leave her side. Though they had to be overly distant with each other, she felt better knowing he was watchful and kept an eye out for any man trying to get her alone.

Even more insufferable were the women. They flattered her over much, they invited her to tea parties and turns about the garden and concerts and balls and smaller parties. Oscar just wasn't interested. She managed to settle in with an intellectual crowd of men. She often debated with them, and while they seemed to condescend to her a bit, she felt more at home debating her worth with them than speaking of things she didn't care about.

In fact, when she was with Marie she didn't pay much attention to her growing rift with Madame du Barry. It was only when Girodelle approached her that she realized the magnitude of the situation.

"If you cannot convince Marie to speak to her, I fear things will be very dire for France indeed. The king will see it as a personal affront and there may be an altercation with Austria," he said.

"I see," she said. "I'll do my best to persuade her."

Fortunately she didn't have to, for a count from Austria arrived to order her to speak to du Barry. Oscar thought that was the end of it, but Marie always found a way to stir up her life in an odd way. Oscar had finally convinced her that it was quite all right for her to ride back and forth from her home to Versailles everyday. Oscar retired for the night and was ready to put on her night clothes when a carriage drove up. Nanny hurried into her room before she could undo her dress.

"It's the princess," she said. Oscar took a deep breath and went out to see her.

She bowed, "To what do I owe the honor of your presence tonight?"

Marie leaned her head out the window, "So this is where you live? How sweet! Anyway, I came here to invite you to a party."

"You're going to a party outside of Versailles's walls?"

"Yes, I'm going to a masquerade, won't it be fun!" she said and put on her mask.

"Your majesty, if you're discovered, there could be horrible consequences!"

"That's why I need you to come. You're the strongest woman I know. Girodelle didn't want me to go, but I convinced him that if I take you and a few guards I'd be all right."

Oscar was more than just upset, she was infuriated. Still, she kept her composure.

"I will go inside and get dressed for the evening," she said. Once inside she kept her calm until she made it to her room. Once inside she let out a loud angry scream. She hoped no one but the servants and her mother heard that. Nanny and Annette came and helped her get ready for the night and Oscar got into the carriage. She was given a mask and she folded her hands and closed her eyes in resigned silence.

"You're so beautiful, Oscar," Marie said. Oscar's eyes snapped open.

"Your Majesty?" she began, unsure of where this was going.

"You have such a refined and dignified beauty," Marie said. "You and I are so close in age, but you're so much more dignified than I am."

"Don't say that about yourself," another one of the women with her said.

"She's right, you shouldn't be so down on yourself," Oscar said. "You have the power to light up the room with just your smile."

"She's right!"

Marie seemed placated and she took Oscar's hands.

"There will be plenty of lords there tonight! We'll find you a husband yet!" she said.

"I will take care of myself in that regard, please, enjoy your night," Oscar said. She was a little upset that she could no longer use her father's death as an excuse not to marry. She still wasn't interested and her mother needed her too much, so she opted not to send her to a convent. Her father might have been proud of her for being so close with Marie, but still so many people tried to marry her off. It was rather sickening.

Oscar tried in vain to enjoy the party, but she was less interested in playing cordial young lady outside of Versailles than she was while she was there. Most men seemed to get the point and she was allowed to glower in the corner, her eyes on Marie to make sure she didn't get into too much trouble. That was almost asking for too much, for Marie may have irritated her to a degree, but she was utterly irresistible to every other man she met. One kept giving her to much attention and this worried Oscar. She saw them disappear onto the balcony and she went out to confront them.

"Just let me see the lovely face under the mask," he said.

"No, that might not be a good idea," Marie said. Oscar didn't like the way he was pressuring her. She loaded her gun and pointed it at the back of his head.

"Step away form the lady," she said. He raised his hands.

"Let's not be hasty. It's quite rude to whip out pistols for no reason," he said.

"Who are you?" Oscar said.

"I see no reason I should identify myself to someone as crass as you. Identify yourself first."

"You don't know who you're dealing with. I am Lady Oscar Francios deJarjayes. You were accosting Marie Antoinette of France. Tonight, her life is in my hands. You will state your name."

He was taken aback by that and turned to Marie. She removed her mask with some resignation. He bowed hastily and begged forgiveness.

"It's fine, it's fine," Marie said.

"Lady deJarjayes, my name is Hans Axel von Fersen. I am a lord in Sweden."

"Fine. Let's go now," Oscar said. She did feel a pang of remorse for being so rude and forceful to the young man. She turned to him, "If you want to speak to her, you will have to go through the proper channels."

With that she took Marie by the arm, got the rest of their party and they left immediately.

* * *

I don't know what to say. How about sorry for the super late updates and my constant refusal to edit chapters that have long since been written because I agonize over them because they're not perfect? I take writing seriously and I want to write good fanfiction (and fiction in general), but I've lost sight of the having fun aspect of it all over the past year or so. Please enjoy as I struggle through the process to learning to have fun writing again and not kill myself editing.


	7. White Horses

**Chapter Six:**

**White Horses**

* * *

Oscar was at home leisurely reading a few days after the party. Things had quieted down, though Marie and duBarry were still at each other's throats. She had decided to take a much needed leave of the situation. She was never much into how to deal with womanly squabbles, much less one that could over turn all of France. Just when she thought she was able to relax, Nanny entered the room with a huge smile and a spring in her step. Oscar lowered her book.

"What's got you all a flutter, Nanny?" Oscar asked.

"You have a caller!" Nanny said. 'And it's a handsome young man, too."

Oscar was far less than thrilled at the prospect. She slammed her book shut and glowered all the way to the hall. However, when starting down the staircase and seeing who it was, she froze.

"The young man from Sweden," she said. He smiled and bowed.

"Young Lady de Jarjayes. Your mother spoke to me briefly before you were called," he said.

"I must apologize for the other night," Oscar said. "I did not know your intentions for Her Majesty."

"No, I came to apologize. I didn't mean to cause such a fuss. I am about to go to Versailles to request an audience with Princess Marie Antoinette. Would you accompany me?"

She didn't understand why he wanted her to come, but she decided to go along.

'I must dress for a visit to Versailles," she said.

"I apologize for disrupting your peace," he said. She waved his apology away.

"Nanny, tell Andre to follow us to Versailles," Oscar said. She got dressed faster than usual and met Fersen in the front hall.

"You look lovely," he said. "Though you seemed much more comfortable when I first arrived."

Oscar raised an eyebrow and thanked him. Andre pulled behind them just in time to see Fersen help her into the coach. Somehow Oscar felt like she betrayed him. Fersen held her hand and held her waist easily without remorse or regret. She didn't see Andre's face so she couldn't tell if he had felt hurt, but she felt strange about Fersen helping her. She couldn't place why. She chatted with him rather amiably on the way to Versailles. He was quite the charmer and Oscar knew they would be fast friends.

_Why is it that I'm always willing to be friends with these charming men?_ she thought. And yet, something about Fersen intrigued her a bit more than it did with Girodelle. They arrived and then came the tense moment when he helped her out of the carriage, holding her hand, this time his hand was between her shoulder blades as he steadied her. She liked that much better. She glanced over her shoulder at Andre who didn't look back at her.

He petitioned to see Marie and mentioned Oscar was with him. Marie came immediately. Oscar walked behind them slowly ignoring their chatter. Unlike other times she'd been with Marie and her friends, she gladly chimed in on their conversation, but she got the impression that she was unwanted in their exchange. They did their best to include her, but they seemed to forget she was there.

_Well, it is a budding friendship_, she thought and decided not to read too much into it. Yet, she'd watch that situation closely. Madame du Barry rode by on her horse. Marie's eyes followed her and du Barry shot her a look of smug superiority. Oscar watched Marie's expression and then felt a pang of disappointment when Marie looked at her and smiled impishly. Oscar sighed realized that soon she would have a new set of worries. She was getting tired of this. She had barely known Marie for more than a few months and she'd turned her entire world upside down.

Fersen left them for the day and Oscar lingered behind to keep Marie company. Marie looked outside and saw the horses riding past. More specifically, she saw du Barry riding past on a horse.

"I want to ride a horse," she said.

"No. Absolutely not," Oscar said.

"Why! Why not!"

"If you got hurt, it would be catastrophic."

"Well if I'm with you, everything will be all right."

"I can't stop unforeseen occurrences from happening."

Marie huffed and crossed her arms. Oscar knew this wasn't over. A few weeks later, she was summoned into the king's study. Marie was standing there her hands clasped in glee. Marie's happiness usually meant trouble for Oscar.

"I understand Marie wishes to learn how to ride a horse," the king said.

"I discouraged the idea, your Highness. I only had her safety in mind," Oscar said.

The king laughed heartily, "So serious and dutiful like your father! Well, I'm giving her permission to learn. We'll even purchase a new horse for her to ride. I want you to be her instructor. It'll be great fun for her."

Oscar bowed and Marie hugged her tightly. Despite how annoyed she was, Marie's happiness warmed her heart a little. Besides, this was a chance to be around Andre in public. True, her focus would be on Marie rather than on him, but she could be with him nonetheless.

"Your Majesty, I need to make a few preparations for your lesson. May I retire to the stables to begin?" she asked.

"Certainly! I'm so happy you're anxious to help me learn," Marie said. She squealed and ran off to tell the other ladies in waiting about her new lessons. Oscar hurried off to her room sent word to Andre she'd be down for a ride and changed into her riding habit. He was ready for her when she arrived.

"Down the usual path, lead the horse," she said. Andre's mouth became a thin line, but he did as told. Once they were far enough down the path, Oscar felt free to talk.

"The Princess is getting a new horse," she said. "I'm expected to teach her how to ride it."

"What an honor," Andre said. His voice was flat and distant.

"I want you to help me. Be her attendant as you do for me. We'll start with a slow, guided ride down a quiet, short trail," Oscar said. Andre paused and looked up at her briefly before continuing on. Andre's sullen silence worried her. When the ride was over, she lingered behind, petting the horse.

"Andre, so much can go wrong. I only trust you," she said.

"Of course. I know more about horses than anyone else you know," he said.

"It's not just that. It's…"

She would have many onlookers, mostly men who claimed to be her closest companions. Having Andre around was her own extremely subtle way of saying that they didn't know her a bit. That this stable boy, one they barely noticed knew her better than they'd ever hope to. Of course no one would even know that. Not even Girodelle. Odd, for being around her for nearly a year, the man scarcely took note of Andre. She found this even more insulting, as Andre was a huge part of her life.

Right then, as she gazed at his face, his eyes averted from her own, she wanted to close the distance that Versailles and Marie had created.

"Please, help me, Andre," she said.

"I will," he said, not looking at her still.

She started to reach for his hand when Girodelle burst into the stables calling her name. She stared at Andre who shooed her away. She gathered her skirts reluctantly and curtseyed as she met Girodelle.

"Oscar, I heard you are to teach the princess how to ride a horse," he said.

"You are correct," she replied.

"Please allow me to be there as well. I'm worried…"

"As am I. I think it is a big mistake to let her near a horse…"

"Still, we have been given our orders," Girodelle said. They lingered in the silence of mutual frustration before bidding each other good bye. Oscar ran to see if Andre was still around, but he had some how disappeared. Disappointment weighed down her shoulders as they slumped and she went back to her room.

* * *

Oscar couldn't explain her deep misgivings as soon as she saw Andre walk out the horse. Marie squealed in delight, but Oscar inwardly groaned. Girodelle was standing next to her on his own horse and his mouth became a thin line.

"It's a fine horse," he said. Oscar climbed off her own horse and patted his side.

"Let's get this over with," she said.

When Oscar learned how to ride a horse, she had a reliable old mare who wasn't rattled by much. Of course, the poor girl wasn't much to look at. The idea of the princess of France being on an old, ugly horse was out of the question. The horse was beautiful, young and sparkling white. Oscar would have loved to ride her, but she was terrified for Marie to ride her. The horse was on the skittish side, someone definitely favored the look over the safety. Who ever they were, Oscar vowed to personally find and shoot them personally should something go wrong. Andre shot Oscar a worried look and she hoped he could read that she was equally as scared.

Marie ran to the horse and petted its nose. Oscar came up slowly. She saw this exploding, but she didn't know exactly how.

"Now your Majesty, let me help you onto the horse," she said. Marie giggled as she got on.

"Look at me, Oscar! From here you look so small!" she said. She began to flail her arms and the horse pawed the ground anxiously. Andre held her fast, and Oscar tried to settle Marie.

"Please calm down, Princess," she said. She seemed to calmed down for a while, but then something caught her eye. Oscar glanced over her shoulder to see Fersen coming toward them.

"Fersen!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. Marie only got more animated and bouncy, talking to him about her horse. Then slowly things fell apart. Oscar didn't know exactly what happened, whether it was Marie's shouting and kicking or something that was too tight, but the horse bolted with Marie screaming and Andre holding on for dear life, trying to stop the charging animal.

With in the space of a breath, she was on her horse and alongside Girodelle and chasing after her.

"I'll ride ahead to try and cut them off," Girodelle called.

"I'll see if can get her off the horse," Oscar said. Oscar was riding neck in neck with the panicking horse.

"Marie, I'm going to try to help you," she said. Marie had her arms around the horse's neck and all she could do was scream.

"I can't help you if you don't let go of the horse. Please, just lean away from her neck for a moment," Oscar said.

"I can't! I'm going to fall!" Marie cried.

"Just lean away and count to three," Oscar said. Marie bit her lip and pulled away.

"One, two…"

Oscar leapt over and snatched Marie off the bolting horse. Of course this sent both of them flying into the woods. Oscar broke the princess's fall. Her own horse trotted up to her and Oscar looked at Marie to see if she was all right.

"Princess! Your Highness! Say something!" Oscar said. Marie mumbled and Oscar picked her up. Girodelle came up to her.

"Is she hurt at all?" he asked. Oscar carried her over to him.

"We need to take her back to the palace, she needs help immediately," Oscar said. They rode back together, and the doctors took Marie as soon as they touched the ground. Oscar followed them her heart beating a mile a minute. True Marie had become the bane of her existence, but that didn't mean that she wanted her harmed.

Girodelle was asked to wait outside the room, but Oscar stayed with Marie as the doctor's checked her over.

"How is she?" Oscar asked as one came to her side.

"She's fine. The princess has merely passed out from shock," he said. "She just needs some rest."

Relieved Oscar, went outside to relay the news to Girodelle and found Fersen had joined him. They both sighed together.

"Oh, thank the heavens. I wasn't sure if I could ever live with myself if something happened to our dear princess," Girodelle said.

"I've got to let Andre know the princess is all right," she said and started to walk away.

"Andre? Who's that?" Girodelle said.

"The man that was holding the horse when it bolted," she said. She was right, Girodelle had never taken note of Andre even once.

"You'd better hurry then, as soon as you took off after the horse, he was taken as a criminal and awaits punishment by the king," Fersen said. Oscar stared at Fersen and found she couldn't breathe for a moment. Then without a word of explanation she took off running. _There is no way in heaven or hell Andre is paying the price for everyone else's stupid mistakes!_ she thought as she ran. She all but burst down the doors as soon as she found out where he was being sentenced.

She must have had a wild look about her, hair all over the place, still in her riding breeches and covered in dirt. She drew all eyes to her. Oscar didn't see anyone but Andre, who raised his head only slightly as she walked across the floor to his side.

She kneeled next to Andre hastily, "Please, your Majesty! Don't punish this man!"

She dared to look up at him and he scowled a bit. She could hear Girodelle and Fersen coming in after her, the steps slowing as they took stock of the situation.

"Oh, gracious Majesty, what happened was an accident. Andre did all he could to prevent it and keep the princess safe. The horse bolted on its own. I call Girodelle and Lord von Fersen as witnesses to this fact."

"Yet, the princess was injured under his watch, who else should be punished but this man," the king said.

"Then let the blame fall on me. He is my servant and I take responsibility for the accident. Punish me instead."

She glanced over at Andre who had lowered his head and blinked back a few tears. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling.

_Oh, Andre, did you think that I'd just let you die like that?_ she thought. She was surprised to find that Fersen and Girodelle both came forward to plead on Andre's behalf. The king might not have been swayed, had Marie not burst in. She ran out in her elaborate dressing gown and kneeled.

"Oh, your Highness, please! Don't hurt this man! I may have excited the horse myself! Please don't kill him for my folly," Marie said.

"Fine. The blame for this accident falls to no one. He can go free," the king said. Marie once again had gone from cause of Oscar's troubles to the one who with a few words whisked them all away.

"Thank you for your mercy, your Majesty," Oscar said. She rose to her feet only to lose her footing immediately. She looked down at her arm which was starting to cause her intense pain. She ignored it in the rush of the moment, but she had been bleeding quite badly from a branch that had lodged itself into her arm. The blood loss from her injury was just too much and the shock of seeing something sticking out of her own flesh was eerie. She collapsed, but she didn't hit the ground. Her vision was foggy and she couldn't quite see who caught her. He was carrying her and shouting her name, telling her to hold on.

She knew that voice. She leaned her head against his chest and gripped his shirt.

"You're going to be okay," he said.

She knew she was in good hands.

* * *

She was in and out of delirious dreams. She didn't remember a single one clearly, but she did hear someone calling her name over and over again. She always would travel in the direction she heard the voice. She had no question as to who it was, it was that same plaintive voice that always called her from her youth. She opened her eyes to sunlight that was partially blocked by Andre who was hovering over her.

He grinned and took her hand.

"You're okay," he said. She tried to sit up only to fall back down on the pillows.

"Can you just rest for even a moment?" Andre said. She chuckled bitterly. She glanced around the room and was surprised to find Fersen standing by the window.

"Fersen? You're here too?" she said. He grinned.

"I just wanted to stay until I saw you wake up," he said. "I'll let you rest."

As he left, Oscar called out to him.

"Thank you for your help," she said.

"It was no trouble at all,' he said, and bowed deeply. He left them and Oscar noticed an odd look about Andre. Before she could ask what he trouble was, Nanny entered with a peal of giggles and put her hands on her cheeks.

"That Lord Fersen! He's just so dashing. He carried you after you were unconscious and wouldn't leave you until you opened your eyes. He's such a handsome young man."

Oscar supposed he was. So he was the one who carried her home and told her she'd be all right. But who was it that called to her in her dreams? She turned to Andre and gently brushed his cheek and rested her fingers against his neck.

"I'm glad you're okay," she said. "I couldn't live with myself if you got killed for anything."

He said nothing right away and just smoothed her hair.

"I am just glad we both got to live to see another day," he said. Oscar held his hand. It had to be him that spoke to her in her dreams, because no one man meant that much to her.

"Are you jealous of Fersen, Andre?" she said. She wasn't preparing for the way his eyes widened in shock or the way his face turned bright red.

"W-why would I be jealous?" he said with a tinge of defensiveness.

"Easy now," she said, trying to maintain cool on the outside. "I was only wondering if you were jealous because Nanny said he was so handsome."

Andre started to laugh and Oscar smiled.

"I've got to go. You're on the mend and work awaits," he said.

"Andre," she said as he reached the door. He turned to her with a smile.

"I'll have you know that I think you're just as handsome as Lord Fersen, if not more so," she said.

They both laughed, but Oscar knew what she meant in her heart.

* * *

I always found this episode of the anime a bit puzzling. The actual Marie Antoinette was an accomplished rider, it was thought (at the time) that her horseback riding was the reason she didn't bear children right away. Still, makes for good drama.


	8. Sunrises and Sunsets

**Chapter Seven:**

**Sunrises, Sunsets**

* * *

Oscar returned to Versailles in a sling. She got just a tiny bit of a hero's welcome. After all, she had saved the Princess of France. Oscar was a bit crest fallen to find that in just a few days of being gone, the issue with Marie and Madame du Barry had only gotten worse. She had missed out on a chance to speak to her and things were getting rather tense. Oscar resigned herself to stay out of the matter as much as she could. She couldn't persuade either party in one way or the other.

_Really, men's duels are so much easier to understand_, she thought. _You have a disagreement, you have a physical duel or fight and it's over. The winner was decided and you either wallow in defeat or glory. Who wins here? How do you determine a winner? How long will this last?_

She usually went home after being in Versailles but decided to stay over. She was tired from the day of constantly running from one tea party to the men's drawing room to debate or be congratulated for her bravery. Girodelle's men even were a bit more cordial to her after the whole affair. But it was taxing. She sent word to Andre that she was going to stay so she could rest.

It was just before she was ready to change for bed hat she got an odd summons. Marie and Madame du Barry were talking and wanted her to serve them wine. Immediately that struck her as odd. Wouldn't Count Mercy take care of that, wouldn't the king or prince some how have orchestrated this and covered all the details instead of asking her at the last minute? Still, she had been the one summoned and if Marie was legitimately there and she had refused it would be pretty bad. So, tired and injured she accompanied the maid bringing the wine.

_Still, keep your guard up_, Oscar thought. _ You never know what this woman plans._

When she arrived, Marie was nowhere to be seen, but du Barry was there. She arose with a great flourish.

"Oh, you just missed the princess," she said. "We had such a wonderful talk!"

Oscar nodded and eyed her suspiciously. She was always a cautious person and something didn't seem quite right about this scene. She slipped her hand into her pocket and rested her hand on her gun.

"It seems such a shame to waste such wonderful wine. Why don't you have some," she said offering a glass to the maid. Of course the young woman was overjoyed to take up such an offer. No sooner did she down the glass did she start writing in pain. Oscar steadied the girl with one arm as she fell.

"Oh, my! It seems Marie Antoinette has it out for me and tried to poison me!" she said. "When I tell the king of this—"

"Tell the king of what? That you murdered a maid to set up his grandson's wife for attempting to murder you?" Oscar said. "I assumed better things of you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," du Barry said. Oscar took the wine bottle and studied it.

"I'm sure I could trace this back to the original purchaser. If we find out who it was, if you were in some sort of conspiracy with them to slander a person who is in line for the crown—"

Du Barry drew a knife and held it to Oscar's face.

"I don't want to mar your pretty face with blood, but if you dare speak a word of this to anyone I'll…"

Oscar said nothing, she leaned her face against the blade so that it drew blood.

"Your idle threats do not scare me. Good night, Madame," she said. With that said, she went back to her room.

At New Year's Eve, Marie spoke to du Barry, something about how there were a lot of people there. She cried for hours afterward. Oscar consoled her and understood her dismay, but didn't think that Marie realized what an upper hand she had. DuBarry's influence would only hold as long as the king was alive. If he should die….

The king collapsed one morning. Oscar remembered because she had been playing cards with Marie and a servant rushed in informing them of the king's illness. Marie left at once and Oscar knew that things weren't looking good. Knowing that Marie would be quite preoccupied, Oscar left for home.

"So what do you think will happen to du Barry when the king dies?" Andre asked as they read by the fire that night. Oscar rolled over on her back and placed the book she was reading on her chest.

"I don't know. I don't think she can stay in Versailles, though. She has too many enemies and Marie is against her. Without the king, there's no one to vouch for her, she has no pull or power."

"So you think she'll be put out of Versailles?"

"I have no doubts about it," she said.

When Oscar returned, the whole palace was a buzz with people placing bets on the king to die. It seems he had small pox and no one would see him but his sisters and du Barry. Oscar disliked all the women. They had all played a very cruel game with Marie. Despite her better judgment, Oscar had grown to like the princess very much. There was no questioning just how annoying, impulsive and selfish she could be. However, she had long stretches when she was so very kind and innocent. She loved everyone and seemed to want to invite others to love her, Oscar just couldn't see why or who people could use her so ill or be so mean to her. Once you got past her flighty personality, which Oscar chalked up to the princess being young and mostly undisciplined, she was a wonderful person to be around.

Marie was once again holed up in a room with the rest of the royal family waiting to hear news of the king. Oscar decided to go hunting. Marie didn't want her to stop being social because she was holed up in a room with Louis. Well, most would see her as being anti social, as it was only her and Andre, and most seemed to completely view him as a part of the scenery. Hunting was one of the activities that would allow Andre to be around her without it seeming strange.

"You realize your position will go up if the king dies," Andre said. "You'll be the queen's lady in waiting. Soon you'll have everyone vying for your favor."

Oscar glared at him and snatched the rifle from his hands.

"I didn't think you thought like those nobles," she said.

"Don't be so upset! I don't want him to die, you of all people should know that I know how death can rock a whole family. But you have to be prepared. It will happen and unless Marie decides not to keep you on as a friend, you're going to go up in rank."

Oscar ignored him and rode ahead. But it was true. The very thing that she hoped would never happen would happen. She would be one of the most influential women in France. Men would want her, woman would want to be her (though she found much to her amusement that some women wanted her) and she would be further removed from the life she loved so much.

Somehow, in the very selfish part of her heart, she wished that the king would live as long as possible. She didn't want Marie to gain any more power. She didn't want Marie bring her up along with her. She didn't want to be separated from...

She looked over at Andre who held her bag, ready to bag her prey.

"Andre, I hope...I hope that we stay close," she said.

Andre looked up in surprise and furrowed his brow, "Oscar what's bringing this on?"

"I'm losing so many people in these past couple of years. I don't want to lose you."

He dropped what he was holding and took her hand.

"Oscar, I'm always here for you. And even after I die, I'll watch over you still," he said.

"Don't talk about that!"

She couldn't bear the thought of really losing Andre, she had enough of a scare the first time it happened. She had ignored profuse bleeding just to make sure that he wouldn't executed.

"Don't ever talk about dying around me again, I won't let you," she said. "You're going to be around for a long time."

"Oscar, you can't control fate."

She felt her temper sky rocket. She wasn't feeling up to hunting right now, but at the same time, she didn't want to leave Andre's side at the moment.

"Leave our things by that tree. We'll come back to it later. Right now I want to go riding."

"I'll stay here then and-"

"No. Ride with me," she said. He raised his eyebrows and did as she asked. He got on behind her and she scooted up in the saddle so that he could ease behind her. He held on to her waist but she shook her head and let him take the reins.

"We haven't ridden like this in ages," she said. He didn't say anything, but she leaned against his chest as he urged the horse on. She didn't say a word, her thoughts troubled her too much and she didn't truly want to face her fears. That she'd lose Andre someday her mother looked so frail lately, it scared her. She simply closed her eyes and let the wind whip against her face and enjoyed the security of Andre's arms.

* * *

Oscar didn't usually stay very late at Versailles, but she had been asked to attend a late dinner and she obliged the lady who asked her. She now felt this was fate. If she hadn't been in the exact area, she would have never seen the Royal Guard dragging du Barry down the hall. Girodelle met her eyes with dismay. Not another word needed to be said. Oscar walked right up to her and held her shoulders.

"Madame du Barry! Please calm down!" she shouted.

"You all can't just kick me out! Do you know what he means to me! Do you!" du Barry cried. "You all pressured him into forcing me out! Threatening him with eternal torment!"

Oscar pieced together the scenario in her mind.

"There's no way she can stay? At least until we find out his Majesty's fate?" she asked Girodelle.

He shook his head, "The order was given. She must leave immediately."

"May she at least go to her room and change?" Oscar asked.

"No. We have a carriage waiting to take her away," he said.

"Go away! This is all some ploy by the princess to spite me!" du Barry said.

Oscar might have glared at her, but couldn't bring herself seeing the state she was in.

"I'll escort her out," she said.

"I have to be there," Girodelle said.

"Well, you take one side, I'll take the other."

Oscar hurried, not even bothering to change into a riding habit, and rode awkwardly side saddle on the horse. Andre frowned deeply as she started for the stable doors.

"Wait!" he cried. She stopped.

"I have to hurry, Andre," she said. He handed her his coat.

"I know it will clash with your finery, but it's cold," he said. She smiled softly and put it on.

"I shall return it," she said. She rushed for the gate where du Barry was departing. She rode close to the window and du Barry was silent at first.

"I know what you think of me. I know what they all think of me. That girl has poisoned them all," she said.

"My opinion of you was formed long before the princess ever arrived," Oscar said.

Du Barry laughed, "You are refreshingly honest."

They were silent again.

"You're getting a bit old now, gaining the reputation as the crazy spinster. Have you ever known love?" du Barry asked.

Oscar didn't reply, but ran a hand over the arm of the jacket she was wearing.

"He keeps you warm," du Barry said. Oscar looked over at her with a start. Du Barry as looking at her and smiling with an expression of bitterness, understanding and pain all laced together.

"When you're in love, he becomes your sun, and you are a flower. He is the center of your world, your reason for living."

"May you bloom elsewhere, du Barry," Oscar said. Du Barry laughed bitterly, her eyes welling with tears.

"I'd like to say I've seen worse, but..." she trailed off. "Flowers are hardy things. They grow where you least expect them."

They never exchanged a formal good bye, but the last looks they gave each other as the carriage pulled out of Versailles was enough.

* * *

The king died. Oscar knew that along with him a part of her life died as well. Marie would become the queen of France, Louis the king, and she would be the queen's lady in waiting. As a lady in waiting she noticed quite a few things that worried her, first and foremost being Marie's relationship with Fersen. True, she liked Fersen, and she liked his company. She even liked the way he and Marie would bounce off each other. What she didn't like were the implications and hiding what she knew to be true. Marie was madly in love with Fersen and he was equally as smitten with her.

A true lady in waiting would somehow seduce him away but Oscar didn't have it in her to hurt Marie in such a way. Oscar couldn't deny Marie's love for him, a love that couldn't find with Louis. She decided the only way to get Fersen to leave Marie alone was to ask him to physically leave the country. It hurt Oscar to think of it. Why shouldn't they be allowed to be in love? Someone had to be allowed to be in love. Even if they could never safely act on it, someone deserved it, since Oscar couldn't have it.

Still, one painful afternoon after Louis' coronation, Oscar gathered the will to visit Fersen in Paris.

He came to see her at once, all but running down the stairs to meet her. He took her hands and grinned.

"Lady Oscar, my good friend. I'm so glad to see you," he said. Her reply was half hearted, he was so disarmingly happy, she regretted to disturb his bliss.

"Please, have some tea in the drawing room," he said. "Take off your hat and gloves and speak with me for a while."

"I shall join you in the drawing room, but I shall take no tea," she said. She followed him and sat across the table from him. The light of the setting sun was blocked from her eyes by her hat, but she was sure it cast a shadow across her face. Much like she was about to do with Fersen. A servant came and served Fersen his tea.

"What is it that you came to see me about, dear Oscar?" he asked. Oscar folded her hands, but forced herself to look him directly in the eyes.

"Fersen, I regret to tell you that your relationship with Marie is moving into dangerous territory," she said. He didn't respond right away, his hand lingered on the tea cup.

"If there were any other way to resolve this, believe me, I would do it but...Fersen, please consider leaving France," she said.

His look turned from an unreadable stoic mask to pain. He doubled over and put his head in his hands.

"I try so hard Oscar, but...her smiles are my weakness. How can I deny her anything?"

Oscar closed her eyes and lowered her chin. She often wondered the same thing. Even when she didn't like Marie and told herself that she was giving her what she wanted out of duty it wasn't entirely true. Honestly, Marie being so simple and innocent and in many ways a victim of circumstance, it was difficult to say no to her, even if what she asked you was tearing you apart.

"Fersen, it may lessen if you leave. The temptation will at least be far away," she said. "Please consider my words."

"I don't understand, Oscar. Why don't I love you instead?" he asked. "I think you're beautiful, smart and dignified. And yet..."

"For the same reason I don't love you. I like you very much, Fersen, but you simply are not the one who takes my heart. I admire you, you are a man that I could see myself marrying and not being miserable."

"How strangely the heart works. We have the circumstances to marry but we do not fall in love. She and I have not the circumstances and yet we cannot separate from each other."

"I'm sorry to ask this of you. Believe me, I love Marie very much. She is such a dear, yet your relationship will bring nothing but trouble for her in the long run. The beginning will be sweet, but..."

"I understand. I will take your words into careful thought."

She curtseyed and left.

"How'd it go?" Andre said as she got in the carriage. She shook her head and told him to go home. Despite herself she began to cry. It wasn't fair to either of them. Oscar resolved that since Marie was robbing her of the life she wanted that making her happy would be central to her life. Treating Marie like a beloved sister, she indulged and corrected her in almost everything. Yet in the end, the one thing that would make Marie so happy would also rob her of so much joy.

Oscar tried to dry her tears before they got home and she had gotten herself mostly under composure. Andre helped her out of the carriage but his trained eyes studied her face with ease and he detected something wrong.

"Were you crying Oscar?" he asked. She glared at him and started for the house. "Are you going to miss Fersen that much?"

She stiffened. How could he tell Andre the whole of what she felt?

"Yes," she answered. "I'm going to miss Fersen."

She walked into the house with a resigned walk. She would miss Fersen. She would miss watching him make Marie feel so much love and joy. She would miss living vicariously though them. In a way, that was what it all boiled down too: Marie got to be in love in her place. Oscar did like the idea of love more than the idea of marriage, but so rarely did she get to see it in execution. It was nice to see it play out so naturally like a sunrise. But this way their relationship ended was no careful sunset. It was an abrupt and indefinite eclipse. Marie would take it hard. She had to be ready.

* * *

Oh, Fersen. Even without meaning to, you're going to be the bane of Andre's existence.


End file.

Rose of Versailles, Romance