Rose of Versailles 1. Chapter 1

**Switched**

Chapter 1

It had been a week since that unfaithful night and the tension in Jarjayes mansion hadn't faltered. Andre was feeling guilty, sick and most of all, helpless. For more than ten years he had kept everything in silence. He had kept still when he saw her making decision to live as a man, when she fell in love with the Swedish count, when she struggled with her obsession toward Black Mask, but that night...

It was one moment of weekness and scattered everything he held dear. He broke her trust, betrayed her friendship and crossed the line of sincere platonic relationship.

He was nobody. He was supposed to be content with simply being able to be by her side. Maybe his Grandmother was right, maybe he had took the liberty given by Oscar since they were kids much too far.

All he wanted was for her to see her true self. He wanted her to understand that she was a woman, no matter how many times she had told herself otherwise. She was a woman and she deserved to be taken care of, to be loved, to be protected. And instead she decided to live among lions who called themselves men. She wouldn't listen and she shut him up. Any other time he would be quiet. Any other time he would stay aside and watch her back. But not that night. Not when she had stepped too far into destroying the woman in her.

But maybe he'd done it for his own selfish reason. Because he didn't want to lose that woman. He wouldn't let, couldn't let anyone take her away. Not even Oscar. His best friend Oscar... deserved to be happy and he, like so many men in her life, had hurt her.

_Never again_, he swore to himself. He would never again touch her.

They tried so much to pretend that night never happened. Putting necessary distance, avoiding eye contact. And it hurt to see someone he cared more than anything in the world slowly slipped away. So he sat here, alone, in a bar where he used to hang out with Oscar so many times, trying to get drunk. Trying to get her and all the problems that come with her far from his mind.

"It's not common to see you without that rather attractive blond companion of yours," a soft voice came from his side.

Andre lifted his head a little and looked between his bangs. A woman, probably in her late twenties, with auburn hair and grey eyes. She wore dark green dress with a very low cleavage. Andre looked away; a faint blush crept on his face. "It's not common for a lady to be in the bar at this hour," he replied.

The woman looked amused and chuckled. "Trying to get drunk I see," she commented when Andre took another big gulp of his whiskey. She took a seat beside him.

"People come to a bar to get drunk," he said shortly.

"Not everyone," she replied. "Most of them come just for small talks with friends. Or seek for companion."

"I didn't seek for companion."

"Well, I just said you are trying to get drunk," she said and leaned closer to his face.

In normal circumstances Andre would politely back away, feeling uncomfortable being so close with a woman. But everything ever since that god damned 'rose is a rose' night was not normal. He stayed still while learning her face. She indeed had intriguing eyes. Grey ones, mystifying. Small nose, high cheek-bone and red lips. Andre looked lower. The way she leaned to him made her cleavage even more... accessible.

"I didn't mind to offer some company, though," she said slowly, eyes barring into his.

This time Andre chuckled and turned his head straight. He lifted his glass to his lips but found it empty. He frowned and turned his head facing the woman again. "You coming here every night?"

"Not every night," the woman finally looked away. "Just when I wanted too. I lived just a couple blocks from here. I see you're coming here quite often."

"I guess I tend to want to get drunk quite often."

The woman laughed. "That goes with your companion too."

"That rather attractive blonde?" Andre, a bit tipsy from alcohol, bent his body closer to the auburn head.

The woman turned her head. Their faces were just mere inches from each other. "I prefer dark hair," she said in low tone.

Her breath caressed his face, sending warmth to his stomach almost like alcohol. A thought of Oscar suddenly crossed his mind. But why he should stop anyway? Oscar had told him to stay out of her life. It wasn't like him being with other girl would bother her. "Maybe I could use some company," he whispered.

The woman just smiled mischievously and closed the distance between them. Her lips barely touch his. Then a little peck. Then another one. Then another one. Then her tongue touched his lower lips and he added more pressure to the kiss. She opened her mouth and inserted her tongue into his. Then the battle of tongue began.

Andre, intoxicated by the taste of her mouth and his raging alcohol-triggered hormone, gave in completely into the kiss. His hands rested on her hips and he stood up from his chair without breaking the kiss, pulled the woman into his embrace in process.

"Upstairs..." the woman said between kisses. "Room... upstairs..."

Andre never could tell exactly how, but the next thing he knew he was pinning the girl to the wall in a room upstairs. Hands pulling her hips closer to his. The woman had her hand in his hair, as if their faces still wasn't close enough, while the other hand trying desperately to unbutton his jacket.

His hand moved to cup her breast and she let out a small moan. He sucked her neck and squeezed her breast, feeling her nipple hardened through the fabric. And just when he's about to slip his hand to feel her bare breast, the thought of Oscar popped again into his mind. Realization hit him hard and this time he did stop.

"What? What's wrong?" the woman asked while still showered his face with butterfly kisses.

He grabbed her arms and pushed her from his body. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

The woman knitted her eyebrows, but then chuckled and lowered her head. She gently shook her head. "You had a woman," she said simply.

"I'm really sorry. I wasn't thinking and—"

"Sshh..." The woman put a finger on his lips, silencing him. "She made you unhappy. Why refuse a little happiness like tonight?"

"I love her."

"She won't care."

"I will. I wouldn't be able to look at her in the eyes if anything ever happen ton—" And suddenly he couldn't breathe. He pushed her and looked at her with widened eyes. Unable to utter a single word.

The woman looked at him, more confused than ever. "What's wrong?"

Andre fell to his knees and the woman screamed. She threw herself on her knees beside him and tried to support him. "Are you okay? Answer me! Are you hurt? Oh God! Help! Someone's hurt here! Help! Hang on…"

Andre fell backward; hands clutched the woman's arms as he hopelessly fought to catch some air. The woman cried as she screamed for help and grasped his arms, unsure what to do. Andre heard her voice slowly faded away. His eye lids felt heavy. The last thing he saw was the woman's panicked face and yet... sparkling grey eyes.

oOo

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was pain. His back hurt. His head hurt. And his left arm hurt. He opened his eyes and the sun light from the window across his bed made his eyes hurt.

"Damn," he cursed under his breath.

He heard a small gasp beside his bed and saw a familiar face of golden haired woman. Only she's wearing rather odd clothes.

"Oscar?" he said with hoarse voice.

Oscar looked relieved, then awkward. She mumbled words he couldn't quite catch, something about the nanny.

She looked like she's about to leave, so Andre extended his hand and grabbed hers, asking her in silence to sit back down. Oscar's eyes widened but she complied. "How are you feeling?" she asked hesitantly.

Andre brought one hand to his head. "Bad," he answered, earning a small ironic smile from Oscar. "What happened?"

"We're not sure. Two guys from the bar brought you home unconscious. We think someone might poison you last night. What were you doing there, Andre? You remember anyone giving you a drink or something?"

Andre was still massaging his temple. Boy, his head sure felt heavy. He never felt like this since teenager when he had the worst hang over from previous drunken rendezvous. "Nothing but the whiskies that bartender kept giving me."

"We had arrested and interrogated him yesterday. He denied having poisoned you but we keep him in lockup still. Are you sure there's no one else?"

He suddenly remembered that strange woman with grey eyes but shook the thought away. He didn't take anything from the woman and Oscar certainly didn't have to know she existed.

"Nah, I'm sure. How long I have been passed out?"

"Two days. Nanny was so worried. I told her to sleep while I watch you. She hadn't slept since they brought you here."

Andre knitted his brows, found Oscar's words weird. Is this some kind of trick she pulled on him? But his head still throbbed so hard, he let this one slide. "Where's Rose? And why you're dressing like that?"

Now Oscar knitted her brows. She didn't know how to respond. Who the hell was Rose and why did he ask her? "This is my new uniform, Andre. I joined the French Guards."

Her words were bitter, but Andre didn't seem to notice. Instead, he looked at her as if she's grown two heads. "What? Why the hell you join the French Guards?"

Oscar tensed. Did he really want to bring this up now? "I believe we've had this conversation before."

Andre groaned in frustration. His head throbbed even more but he ignored it. He didn't need this. He definitely didn't need to wake up after two days and deal with her antics. "We never had this conversation! What were you thinking? What did your father think? God! And I only passed out for two days! What did Rose said?"

Now Oscar was totally confused. What did he mean? And he said Rose again. And what did Rose have to do with her disposition? Decided she didn't want to lose her temper to sick Andre, she got up from her chair. "I will inform Nanny you're awake."

"We haven't finished talking. Sit down!"

Oscar froze. Too shocked, she even did sit.

"I really don't know what you're up to, Oscar," Andre began with tiredness clearly evident in his voice. He made Oscar feel like going back to when she'd done some kind of prank as a kid and her mother was scolding her. "Why you want the _nanny_ to come after me for God's sake? And…" Andre looked around the nine meter-square room in confusion, "…and where am I? And you're dressing like that? You really want to put this crap on me _now_ Oscar?"

Oscar could only look at Andre with confused eyes. Her friend must be sicker than she initially thought. This rarely happened in her life, but this time she really didn't know what to do. Her first instinct was to run out of his room and demand the doctor to check upon him this very instance. But before she could do so, a cracking voice startled both of them. Nanny was already at the door.

Oscar felt relieved. Full of tears, the old Nanny was ready to give Andre bone-cracking hug and few kicks for ever letting everyone so worried. But when Oscar caught a glimpse of Andre's expression, he looked very pale. Strangely pale. Oscar stood up immediately to check him out and Nanny almost run to him. But Andre's scream made both women freeze in their places.

His eyes looked at his grandmother with dreadful fear. "Stay back! You're dead!"


	2. Chapter 2

**AN **Oh. Hello everyone. I am very new to fanfic world and , I'm afraid I haven't done proper introduction. I'm Ana and this is my very first try on fanfic. I hope this isn't such a disappointment.

I'm sorry if you found my previous post rather confusing. I'm still trying to figure out how things work, how to publish, how to insert my note, etc. So, here's a brief explanation of the story.

Basically there are two parallel worlds. The first is the world of Andre and Oscar we all know. And the second is the world where Andre is… well, you'll find out soon.

One night, the two Andres met a gorgeous courtesan and they suddenly switched places. So now Ikeda's Andre is a something and my Andre is a one-eyed servant. I still don't know where the story is heading to, but I hope you enjoy it.

Oh and I will very much appreciate reviews. Thank you!

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

First time he opened his eyes he thought he had died and went to heaven, welcomed by a pale-skinned woman with blue eyes and pink lips. The sunlight fell across her blond tresses... the slender body… what a divine beauty.

She seemed to be worried, though. That's strange. He had imagined if he were seeing an angel in his past life, she would great him with delicate and happy smile.

"...Dre? Andre… Andre!"

Andre's eyes snapped open. He blinked a couple of times, as if still trying to comprehend the situation. And then he saw her. Really saw her. "Os—OSCAR? What are you... Why you...?"

He tried to sit up but Oscar's hand held his arm in place. "Easy, Carignan. You have been passed out for almost two days..."

Andre studied her face. Still stunned by the way she looked. "Two days?"

"Yes. The doctor said nothing's damaged, but he thought someone might have poisoned you in the bar that night." She let out a breath of relief. Her hands were squeezing his left arm. "We might have some issues, Andre, but you don't have to take it to the extreme."

She smiled and Andre's mind wandered. Issues. He remembered what had happened several nights ago. Now she acted as if his nearly raping her was just like another issue. "It wasn't just another issue..." Andre said under his breath.

Oscar must have heard him because he felt her hands on him tensed. She removed her hands but continued in her usual tone. "Colonel de Girodelle came last evening when you're still unconscious. He's investigating this and had the bar owner under arrest. He denied of having poisoned you, though. You recall anyone give you any food or drink?"

Andre shook his head. "But why would anyone would poison me? Much less the bar owner."

Oscar gave him sympathetic look. "I don't know. I personally don't think he did. But one can't be too aware at this time." She stopped and looked at him.

There were questions he wanted to asked her but upon looking at her, he couldn't utter a single word from his mouth. Andre didn't know what possessed Oscar to wear a dress. She had sworn to live as a man and left him and yet there she was, sitting beside his bed wearing a bright blue dress that compliment the color of her eyes. Boldly looking at him. He couldn't remember the last time he did that. Simply looking at him. She had avoided his gaze for too long.

After some time, they suddenly felt awkward. Andre straightened his gaze to the wall and Oscar rose to her feet. "I will bring Rose to you. She's been torturing everyone about you all day."

"Rose?" Andre asked in confusion.

But Oscar didn't seem to notice as she laughed and strode along the room to the ante-chamber. "Rest well, Carignan, you will need all energy you can muster when she gets here."

Meanwhile Andre was left more lost than ever. Who the hell was Rose? Andre's thought immediately turned to the auburn head temptress. Did she brought him here and Oscar knew? And Oscar kept calling him Carignan. Why Victor de Girodelle even bothered to investigate his poison? And again, why was he here? This place was no doubt, a noble chamber. It's not Oscar's chamber, he's even sure there's no such chamber in de Jarjayes' mansion. Then where were they?

Andre's train of thought was diverted when he heard the door cracked. He thought Oscar had come back. But instead a petite blonde came rushing through the open door, running toward him with all her might, and jumping onto his bed. She cupped his shocked face as if she were examining whether he had any wounds. When she seemed satisfied with what she saw, she circled her tiny hands around his neck and shouted happily, "Papa!"

oOo

"Papa!"

"Jesus!" Andre exclaimed upon hearing the toddler's high-pitched scream. She still holding onto him tightly and giggling to his shoulder.

Oscar had been watching the scene in amusement with Rose's governess from the door. She let out a laugh and walked toward them. "Okay, Rose. Let Papa breathe," she said and freed Andre from grasp of, apparently, his little child.

A thousand thoughts were running through Andre's mind. Had he accidently fathered a little girl? He certainly didn't stay celibate all of these years, but he thought he was careful. Not to mention, rarely did that. It was back then when he was young and stupid but by God! This little creature was now here, in the arms of Oscar, pouting because she had been separated from him against her will.

"Papa needs some rest, Princess," Oscar said in a firm but gentle voice that astounded Andre. Over twenty years Andre had known Oscar, he had never heard she used that kind of tone. He melted in instance. And it looked like it had the same effect to Rose as well, for she stop pouting and instead leant into Oscar's hold more.

"Papa gowna be okay?" she asked in whisper.

"Is Papa going to be okay?" Oscar repeated the question to Andre, who nodded dumbfoundly.

"Yes, Rose, Papa is going to be just fine," Oscar said to the toddler. "Now why don't you kiss Papa goodnight and let him rest."

Oscar lowered Rose on the bed. He was a little alert because of Rose's previous outburst but the toddler kissed Andre softly on the cheek. "Rest well, Papa," she said quietly and patted Andre's head.

Oscar smiled then took Rose from the bed and signaling the governess to come closer. "Now as Papa takes a rest, why don't Rose take a bath for dinner?"

"Papa comes to dinner to?" Andre knew that Rose was asking him, for she was looking straight at him. But he found himself even too stunned to react.

"Papa will have dinner in bed, darling. But you can see Papa again tomorrow morning," Oscar said and handed her to the governess. "Be a nice girl and don't cause Madame Cargill to much trouble, will you?"

Once Rose and her governess left the room Oscar turned to face Andre again. "Your condition seems to be worse than I thought, Andre," she said and sat beside his bed again. She seemed really worried now. "Would you like me to call Doctor Lassone?"

Andre shook his head. "No, I'm just…" Andre couldn't believe Oscar. How could she be so freaking calm? Was she pulling a goddamned prank like when they were children? But she's bringing a kid into this for crying out loud!

Oscar wasn't convinced. "You look even paler, Andre. Let me get doctor."

"No. Oscar..." He pulled her hand to stop her. And suddenly a memory of that cursed night surfacing and he let go immediately.

Oscar looked confused. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Andre bit his lips. What's wrong? Everything's wrong! He closed his eyes for a few second before asking her, "Where are we?"

Oscar seemed to be taken aback. "Well, we're home, in Rambouillet."

Rambouillet certainly wasn't home. He didn't even know de Jarjayes have such a place in here. But he set it aside for once. "Why am I here?"

"What?" Oscar looked really confused now. "Well, this is your home—"

"No, I mean… why am I here, in this room?"

"Well, probably because this is your room. Have you by accident, hurt your head too, Andre? Why you're asking me that?"

"And Rose…"

Oscar waited. Andre didn't even have the heart to ask. "What about her?" she asked finally.

"Is she… my daughter?"

"Good God! Andre!"

"Really. Oscar. I don't know what happened to me. I don't know why we're even in Rambouillet. Last time I knew we're still in Jarjayes mansion. Last time I checked I didn't have a daughter. And last time I saw you, you…"

Oscar looked at him in horror but she didn't say a word.

Andre continued in soft voice. "Last time I saw you, you're definitely not wearing a dress."

Oscar gasped. "You mean, last time you saw me I'm still in Royal Guards uniform…?"

Andre could only nod hesitantly and Oscar seemed to lose her balance a little.

"Oscar!" Andre shouted worriedly.

"I'm okay…" she said, stilling Andre in his place. "I'm okay. But you, I'm afraid, will need a doctor. I'll ask Lucinda to call doctor Lassone. I'll be right back."

Andre didn't even have chance to stop her as she rushed out of the bed chamber. He sighed as he leant back onto the pillow. He _knew_ going to the bar that night was a mistake.

oOo

Oscar took a deep breath as he sat on the couch, face to face to Andre, who refused to stay in bed any longer and sat on the couch in front of her instead.

The doctor had confirmed her suspiciousness since she saw him looking at Rose as if he was seeing a ghost instead of his most treasured daughter. Something was indeed wrong with his brain cell.

Doctor Lassone didn't want to speculate since there's no proof Andre had any trauma on his head. But seeing his state, his diagnose was the poison probably had caused certain damage on his nerve system and caused selective amnesia.

He had told her to break the news gradually and not to stress him out. In most cases, amnesia could be cured. But it took patience.

"Well…" she said, unsure where to begin with.

"Well…?" Andre replied, restless look on his face. Oscar cursed herself mentally, so much for not putting any stress on him.

"The doctor said you might suffer a selective amnesia. You probably miss a few chunk of memories. But it can be cured," she finished hurriedly upon seeing terrified look in his face. "I will try to fill what is lost from your memories. Well, after all I'm the one who knows most of your, umm, activities."

She squeezed his hand. She felt him tensed again under her palm. "We're going to be alright, Carignan. We'll restore your memories bit by bit."

"Why you're calling me that?" he asked softly, almost like afraid of her answer.

"What?"

"Carignan."

"But that was your name, Andre," Oscar said rather surprised but shortly regain her composure upon seeing him flinched. She cleared her throat. "You were once called that way, at least. It's your courtesy title before you possess your title now."

"Tittle?"

"Yes. You were still Prince de Cartagnan when we first met. So I've kind of gotten used to it," Oscar laughed nervously. "Besides, you don't like me calling you Duc de Penthieve because it remains you of your father."

Andre gulped. "My father… And this place is…?"

"Cheteau de Rambouillet. We moved here… after your father's deceased," she added with delicacy. His father's death had been terrible for Andre, who had lost his mother when she gave birth to him. Oscar was afraid he didn't remember and had to deal with this unfortunate all over again.

But he seemed strangely calm. "I see. And Rose…?"

Oscar bit her lower lips. She could take that Andre had lost plenty of her memories, that he seemed be unaware of his own nobility, that he forgot his own home, but forgetting his own daughter. Oscar shook her head. It wasn't his fault. He too, certainly didn't want this to happen.

"Rosemary Jane Francoise de Bourbon… is your daughter."

Andre swallowed visibly. His entire body seemed to be shaking. Oscar saw him gripping arms of the couch until his knuckles became white. She was going to order him to go back sleeping when he asked suddenly, "And you…?"

Oscar blushed. She lifted her chin and looked at him straight in the eyes. "I, Your Serene Highness, am Oscar Francois de Bourbon-Jarjayes. I am your wife."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN** Usually when I read fanfic and saw how people got so excited by the reviews they received I was like... 'oh come on, what's the fuss.' But now that I receive them it is somewhat addicting (thank you, Krimhild and Chel-Thje!). Hahaha.. Now I can see why people wanted to be commented so bad. ;)

Anyway, here's a new chapter. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do when I wrote it.

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Oscar watched him sleeping in silence. That very afternoon he had woken up and looked at his own grandmother as if he were seeing a ghost. How could he think Nanny was dead? Oh, her poor Nanny. She was very much heartbroken.

Could it be possible the poison had messed up with his brain as well? Doctor Lassone said Andre had no head injury, but it was possible he took a poison that caused damage to his nerve system and caused selective amnesia.

But she knew Andre didn't have amnesia. His grandmother was very much alive all of these times.

Oscar sighed deeply. She had said to Nanny that it was best if she did not make appearance in front of Andre and that she herself would continue watching him for time being. He had been very petrified, to say the least. Doctor Lassone even had to give Andre some sedative just to make him calm a bit while he inspected him.

_What exactly had happened at the bar that night? _She wondered. Oscar had interrogated the bar owner, even threatened him for death sentence if he dared lying to her. But he kept swearing that he'd just given Andre whiskies. _Lots of it, because the young man asked for it_, he said.

Oh she knew Andre had gone to a bar to get drunk. Andre could never understand what she did. He could never comprehend why she decided to leave her position in the Royal Guard and join French Guard instead. He could not even see why she had to live like a man.

At first, it had felt like a painful stab on her back. All these times she thought she could rely on Andre in everything, turned out he's the one who had exposed her to her most vulnerable state. And he had guts to tell her that he loved her!

She should've had hated him. But every time she's reminded by the fact that he had been such a loving and loyal friend. And maybe all of these times he was suffering because of love too. After all, she knew firsthand how love could destroy everything. She had seen it in Marie Antoinette, von Fersen, herself and now Andre.

And thus she had forgiven him.

That's what she always wanted to say. He was her best friend. When they were kids they never had to say sorry. They just knew somehow that they would always end up being friends again, that everything was always forgiven.

But as they grow older things became more complicated. Both couldn't hear the unspoken words anymore. And Oscar just didn't have enough courage to confront him. Their friendship had been badly injured and she was afraid one wrong word could destroy it forever.

She felt they're growing apart. She had wanted him to be her friend. Andre had wanted to have her.

Oscar chuckled in irony. He said he loved her. But he was with a woman that night. The other people at the bar had confirmed it. The moment they were kissing and then went to a room upstairs. Strangely enough, those men in the bar claimed to often see her but no one knew who she was or where she lived. Nobody even knew her name. Oscar had her men search for the girl across Paris, but so far they found dead end.

On the other hand, Andre didn't say anything about the woman when Oscar was asking about that night. Was he trying to protect her? Or was he trying to hide the fact that he had an affair with woman, from her?

The blonde commander shook her head. That was absurd. She wouldn't care much about Andre's love interest. As long as she's a good girl and could make him happy, she's fine. But if this girl were the one who poisoned him, Andre had better been telling her where she was.

She saw Andre's body moved and her body's stiffened in alarm. She watched him as he blinked several times, tried to see in the dim light of room. "Is that you… Oscar?" he asked in hoarse voice.

"Yes." Oscar stood up and went to the candle near his bed so that he could see her.

"I see this strange dream has not ended." He laughed but she could tell that he was suppressing his nervousness.

For a while neither said anything. Then Andre broke the silence. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping at this hour, Mademoiselle?"

"Don't call me that!" she snapped, very annoyed. She should've had known Andre would pick such inconvenient time to tease her.

Andre, on the other hand, seemed amused. "Well, well… I knew this temperament. If you would be so kind, then, Monsieur de Bourbon, where are we now exactly?"

Oscar was a little surprised by his next nickname for her. But this was the man who screamed 'you're dead!' to his very old and very fragile grandmother. So Oscar answered him carefully, "You're in your room, Andre. And my name is not de Bourbon. I am Oscar Francois de Jarjayes."

Andre raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you married to duc de Penthievre?"

"Oh for the love of God, Andre, what makes you think I would, like ever, be married? Besides, I believe duc de Penthievre was deceased some years ago," she answered in apparent annoyance.

But deep down Oscar was confused. Surely Andre, as her playmate since child, had been given same education as Oscar and had been with her almost in every social occasion. But he to know de Bourbon and not even recognize his own grandmother was too much. And not to mention he even have the thought she would marry such an old man!

Andre didn't seem to notice, though. "I meant not the late-_duche_, Monsieur. I meant his son, Louis Alexandre, formerly known as prince de Cartagnan."

"Oh cut it with the formalities, Andre!" Oscar barked. Andre was a little bit taken aback, but that annoying amusement was even clearer in his eyes. Oscar took a deep breath. She wasn't going to let Andre getting on her nerve. "You probably addressed prince de Lamballe, he was—"

"No, I meant prince de Cartagnan. Youngest son of the Duke," Andre cut.

Oscar knitted her eyebrows as she tried to memorize. True, she wasn't very involved with the social life in the court of French monarch. But she sure knew if there was any surviving son of the newly-extinct branch of House of Bourbon. "No, Andre. I am very much certain there is no other son. What is that with you anyway? You don't recognize your own grandmother and now you're asking me about the royal court. And stop talking so formal to me!"

Oscar knew she was losing her patience and she really did try to anger in check, but damn if her friend did not push her limit.

"Grandmother!" Andre exclaimed, as if he just remembered something. "What is her name?"

"What? Are you-? Ugh, okay… Her name is Marie. Jesus, are you sure you're okay now Andre?" she said worriedly. She was considering calling doctor Lassone again, in case Andre had another nervous breakdown. But it was very late, so she figured it's best she just tell him to sleep.

"Marie Victoire?"

"Just Marie, Andre. Go to sleep now. You may want to ease your mind a little. You've been knocked out for two days straight anyway."

"Nice way for telling me I have lost my mind, Oscar," he said in sarcasm.

"I think you are confused," she replied simply.

Andre sighed in defeat and closed his eyes. Oscar was just about to leave when she noticed horrified look on Andre's face. His hand was on his injured eye and he seemed to just become aware by the fact that he could not open one of his eyes.

Oscar felt her heart breaking. She unconsciously held her breath as she saw Andre tried to register what had happened to his eye.

"Bring me a mirror. Please…" he said. His voice was shaking.

"It's very late Andre. Go to sleep…" Oscar tried to calm him.

"Mirror. Now," he demanded her firmly.

Oscar bit her lip, then forced her body to move toward a mirror near his closet and very slowly, took it from the wall. Her hands were trembling when she handed him the mirror.

She was expecting another outbreak from him upon realizing he had lost an eye. And she just wasn't sure whether she even had strength left to deal with this. But he was surprisingly calm. He sighed and handed the mirror back to her.

Oscar received the mirror and put it on the table near the bed. Then she sat beside his bed again. Her eyes were watching him. But he just closed his eyes and put both hands on his head. For a moment they stay silent. Then Andre asked with cracked voice, "Who am I, Oscar?"

"You are Andre Grandier," she said in a steady voice that even amazed herself. "You were brought here when you were eight and I was seven by Nanny, your grandmother. We've been friends ever since."

Andre snorted. "We couldn't be friends, Mademoiselle."

This time instead of annoyance, she felt anguish toward the way he was calling her. She felt tears threatened to fall from her eyes. "Why can't we?"

"If my grandmother is your Nanny, that would mean I am a mere commoner. I couldn't be your friend," he said simply. "And you should not be in my room, Mademoiselle, it wasn't appropriate."

At his answer, Oscar's cry broke. "You, Andre Grandier, are my friend! Always have been, always will be! I don't get the crap about me being a noble and you're a commoner. You know me!"

Andre seemed surprised. But then he raised his hands, one to squeeze her hands and the other reached for her face. Oscar flinched at his touch.

"What?" Andre began to seem aware. "This isn't appropriate?"

"Oh, cut the act!" Oscar chided him and he grinned. He wiped the tears from her cheeks and patted her shoulder.

"Go to sleep, Mademoiselle. It's really late," he said with finality.

Oscar nodded and headed to the door. She reached for the door knob and turned around to face him. "It's Oscar," she said before she went out of his room.

Andre grinned even though he knew she had left the room. But soon his grin turned into grimace. He didn't understand what's going on. Had he been dreaming all along and get so caught up in his role-playing as a _duche_ that he forgot that he was just a commoner?

He tried to focus and remember this room. But he couldn't. Instead he remembered clearly Oscar in various colors of dresses. He remembered his little Rosemary.

Damn. He had tried to be strong for he didn't want Oscar to worry too much. But now when he's all alone, he felt fear and longing crept through his veins. He let tears run freely on his cheek.

This is going to be a long night.

oOo

The following morning Andre tried to reconcile with his 'grandmother'. So after being yelled at, punched and kicked, he now had the eldest clinging to him and crying in his arms. She was worried then relieved then terrified then relieved.

"God must've punished me! What did I do to have such ungrateful grandson!" she cried as she hold him tightly, almost left him no room to breathe. Andre had to hold back laughter of amusement. His grandmother was nice, he could get used to her.

Afterward, Grandmother told him that his work was basically to tend the horses and he had to start doing this instance. "You have been sick long enough! Now back to work!" she said and shooed him toward the stable.

Fortunately he remembered having certain passion to horses. And he definitely had enough capability to deal with the four legged animals. While his father in his dream had certain possession toward watches, Andre had found interest in mounting horses since childhood.

De Jarjayes sure had nice mounts. Five stallions. All of them seemed to be in great condition. He scrubbed his hands together and began to fill the water to wash the mounts. His job here was actually fun.

The black stallion, he noticed, seemed very fond of him. All of stallions were fond of him for sure; he's the one who had taken care of each of them anyway. But the black one was special. He wondered if this belonged to Comte de Jarjayes, whom, speaking of which, he hadn't seen in the mansion so far.

As he washed and scrubbed and trimmed the horses, he felt his clothes were damped by dirt and water and sweat. He looked around to make sure no one was looking and then took off his shirt. He was pleased to see he had well-toned abdominal muscles. Grinning, Andre thought his activities as a servant in Jarjayes mansion turned out to be a great work out.

He was still diligently working on the horses when he thought he heard giggles. He was stilled in awareness for a moment before he saw three maids of de Jarjayes mansion, apparently enjoying the show of him scrubbing the horses from across the stable.

A wicked thought crossed his mind. He may not remember most part of his life and certainly couldn't imagine how he survived being friend of the fiercest human being on earth called Oscar, but he knew ways to get a lady. He was a Bourbon anyway. Or at least in his dream he was.

So just for his own amusement, he decided to give the girls a little show. After all, as far as he knew, he was single now. So he began to scrub the horse a little slower, bent his body every here and now just to show the fine muscle of his arms and chest and abdomen.

The girls giggled even more gleefully. Andre smirked. He was beginning to enjoy his role when the giggles stopped abruptly. Having wondered what made them so quiet; Andre raised his body and looked at the stable entrance. And there, standing Oscar de Jarjayes herself, face flushed furiously, looking like she was ready to kill somebody.

Andre smiled awkwardly. "Oh. Umm. Hello, Mademoiselle."

"Cover yourself, Moron! What were you thinking having a striptease show in front of the maids?"

"I was scrubbing your horses," Andre tried to defend himself in vain. He hurriedly put his shirt back on nonetheless. It was almost an automatic response. In spite of everything, the he last time he knew, he was married to her. Well, not _this_ commander Oscar. But he's married to Oscar anyway.

Oscar, in the other hand, was infuriated. For over twenty years she knew him, never once she saw him flirting, much less giving a show to any woman. But now…

She growled. Just last night he became a perfect conservative gentleman, talking about what's appropriate to her. And now he's the one who behaved extremely inappropriate toward _her_ maids in _her_ own house.

"Take a bath. You stink!" she spat.

And with that she turned around, leaving Andre in question. _What have I done this time?_

oOo

Oscar heard knocks on her door and, without looking away from the book she was reading, replied, "Come in!"

Oscar thought it would be another maid who brought her evening hot chocolate drink. Andre had stopped doing so since the uneventful night right here in this very room. _A coward_, she thought. _He doesn't even have the guts to see me here_.

"Where should I put it?"

Andre's voice made her eyes lifted from her book in instance. On her door stood Andre, with slightly damped hair, and he was carrying a tray of her chocolate. Oscar suddenly felt chill in her spine.

"Just put it there." She was pointing at her vanity table. It made her feel somehow guilty, but she wasn't ready to let him being close to her. Not in this room, at least.

Oscar pretended to read her book. But Andre did not budge from his place in front of the door. With a sigh, she put down her book and looked at him. "What do you want?"

He seemed unsure. "Few things are just… unclear to me. And, considering that last night you said we're friends, I would like to straighten couple things up."

Oscar sighed. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

"Everything." Andre casually grabbed a chair in front of her vanity table and put it beside Oscar's bed. "How come we became friends, Oscar?" he questioned while sitting on the chair. This close proximity left Oscar uncomfortable, but she soon forgot when he added, "I mean, no offense Oscar, but with your temper and my rank I found the situation rather… improbable."

"You're the one who tests my temper all the time!" Oscar yelled, causing Andre to back off a little on his chair. "And I've told you I don't care about ranks."

Andre didn't buy it. So Oscar continued. "I imagine it must be hard waking up one day and not remembering anything about your life. We're investigating what happened during that night, Andre. And I need you to help me, so that we can figure out what happened to you and hopefully restore your memories."

Green eye was barring to her blue ones. "What do you want to know Oscar?"

"That woman."

If Andre felt upset by her question, he sure hid it well. "I went to the bar, intended to get really drunk. And there was a woman, with auburn hair and strange grey eyes. I was really drunk, Oscar. And I swore nothing happened."

"You kissed."

"We just kissed. Nothing happened."

"You went to a room upstairs."

"Christ, you don't let anything left do you?" Andre groaned in frustration. Oscar remained calm, keeping her face straight.

He sighed. "Yes, we went upstairs but I swear nothing happened. I stopped. I couldn't bring myself into…" he stopped. And Oscar didn't push him.

"What's her name?" she asked.

Andre shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, Jesus! Andre!" Oscar exclaimed. She couldn't believe Andre would go kissing just any girl.

"I wasn't thinking!" Andre tried to defend himself. "It was… Okay, I was wrong. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to," Oscar replied coolly. "I suppose you don't know where she lives either, then?"

Andre shook his head. "She did say she lived couple blocks from be bar, though."

Oscar knitted her eyebrows. "Then I guess she's lying, then. My men had swept all of the hoses near the bar. Unless they are all conspiring to hide the girl, no one knows where she lives exactly. And the odd is that, all of them claimed having seen her frequently but no one knows who she is or even has spoken to her."

"Oddity…" Andre whispered. "That's not the only oddity, Oscar."

"What do you mean?" Her book was now completely forgotten.

"I know you think I lost my memories because I can't comprehend who I am or recognize my own grandmother…"

"Doctor said you probably had selective amnesia."

"But there's a problem, Oscar." Andre stressed his words, "I do have memories. Just… different."

"I don't follow you…"

Andre squeezed his own scalp. "I remember all the things that happen until that night in the bar. But my memories are different than what actually happened."

"I'm sorry Andre, you have to be more explicit." Oscar had felt something. And she's torn between believing something unexplainable had happened and doubting the sanity of her best friend.

Andre seemed more frustrated. "In my head, I am Louis Alexandre Joseph de Bourbon, the eighth child of the deceased duc de Penthievre, the third and only surviving son. My mother was Marie Therese d'Este and she died giving birth to me. I was born prince of Cartagnan before I possessed my father's title. Why did I have all of these things inside my head, Oscar? Am I insane?"

Andre was looking at her with desperate eyes. But Oscar looked startled, she still couldn't make sense of any of his words.

"First time I saw you was upon the ceremony of Princess Marie Antoinette's arrival. You were captain." Andre smiled, but no longer looking at her. "It was interesting. A girl in a red Royal Guard uniform," he shook his head. "I asked Victor afterward. He said you're the General's daughter and that they had made you the captain."

"You were so distant from the social life of the court. I saw you a couple of times when you accompanied Antoinette at the balls. I remember you were unfriendly. You refused any of my advances." He chuckled. "Then one night I saw you in a dress. You insist that you were merely playing a paw to capture Black Mask. But I think you wanted to impress that Swedish count."

Oscar's face was flushed red. But she remained silent.

Andre was waiting for her response. But since she just stared at him with unreadable expression, he carried on. "After the encounter with you in a dress, I asked your father a hand on marriage. The General wouldn't let go of his 'son' that easily. But I was after all, a prince du sang of France." He grinned and looked at Oscar, who seemed a little trembled but kept silence. His grin faded. "Auguste and I had always been close. And Antoinette was very fond of you. Even the general could not refuse his daughter to be married into the Bourbon."

At this mark, Oscar's mind snapped. She got up from her bed and stand in front of Andre, towering him. "You are married and yet you went to a bar to find some hooker in heat! Some gentleman you are!"

"Our marriage is not always perfect, Oscar!" Andre said in exasperation. "And I'm really, really sorry that I did what I did."

"Of course it's not if you pushed me into it!" Oscar yelled.

"I did not!" Andre snapped back. "I'm sorry. But I did not wed you by dragging you into the altar nor forced you to sign the damn paper! You knew you could not be the man your father wished you to be. You knew Fersen could never see you the way he saw Antoinette. And you wanted out. I offered you my title, my family name, my wealth. And you accepted it."

Oscar's face was now as pale as a ghost and her body's shaking slightly.

"None of these makes any sense, right?" Andre spoke, now in very gentle voice. "I've been trying to remember the life I actually had, a life as your friend, as a servant, even as a grandson of my grandmother. But I can't. Heaven forbids, my grandmother passed away when I was eleven!"

Silence. Nobody said a word. Oscar was still shaking and Andre did not dare to lift his head and face her.

"We'll find the woman, first." Finally Oscar said coolly. "I could not think of anything right now." She then turned around and walked away.

Andre watched her standing by the window. Her back faced him. He bit his lips. There were still so many things he needed to know but it looked like this was too much for her. So he got up from his seat and walked out of her room in silence.

Oscar put her head in her palm. She trusted Andre with her life. But after that night and after tonight, she began to wonder if she had put her trust on the wrong hand and if Andre's affection toward her had turned into dangerous obsession.


End file.

Rose of Versailles, Mystery, Romance