December 19th, 1804

Cosette had sent Diana to fetch us cloaks. As we waited in the entry way, I couldn't help but notice the way Cosette stood, tall and proud, watching the staff and occupants of the house wander from room to room. She was queen and this was her kingdom. She would make a much better princess than me. 

"Sophie," Cosette said, snapping me out of my thoughts. "I heard you're new to the art of nobility."

"I am," I said.

"Don't slouch," she said, taking my response as a cue to correct my behaviors. I straightened my back. "But relax." I tried easing up but I couldn't maintain the proper poise. I adjusted my posture until Diana arrived.

Cosette easily swung the cloak over her shoulders and fastened the ties, while I fumbled with the unfamiliar silk. Edmund opened the doors for us and I followed Cosette into the street. She walked quickly. I tried to keep up in the massive dress.

"Normally, we'd take the carriage," Cosette said, "but Henri's sold all but two of our carriages. One is broken somehow, and Uncle has already reserved the other one for the day."

"How far is the walk?" I dared to ask.

"At least another three blocks," Cosette said. There was mild distress in her voice. She started walking faster and her curled hair bounced with each step.

"Do keep up," Cosette added.

We arrived at a shop, minutes later.

It was the nicest tailor's shop I'd seen. There were mirrors and sample dresses on display throughout the shop. Flowers and other ornaments brightened up the room. A man entered from the back.

"Ah, Cosette," he said, kissing her cheeks quickly. They were pink from the cold air. "Welcome. I see you have brought a friend."

He repeated the gesture to me. Cosette watched lazily.

"Yes. She'll need multiple gowns to be placed on our accounts. She needs them as soon as you finish them," Cosette instructed. "Any style, any color, though she did look charming in light blue last night."

I wanted to thank her for the compliment but the tailor was pacing around me. 

The tailor seemed to be looking me over, thumb hanging on his lower lip.

"Yes, yes, I know just what to do," he said. He beckoned me forward and pulled a measuring tape from out of nowhere and began measuring me.

"Jean-Paul is the finest tailor in Paris," Cosette boasted.

"You're too kind, Miss Cosette," Jean-Paul said.

"Sylvie," Cosette said, using my false name. "Are you in any relationships currently?"

"Relationships?" I asked.

"Engaged? Betrothed? Are you interested in Henri?" She seemed incredibly curious but at the same time, uncaring.

"Henri? I- I'm not engaged," I said defensively. How easily she gossiped in front of this man...

"Oh. So you are interested in my brother?"

I couldn't find the right words.

"I'm going to interpret that as a yes," Cosette said. She was inspecting her reflection in one of the mirrors.

"No! I'm not," I said. The last thing the Baudin family seemed to need was more gossip or secrets.

"Of course not, darling," Cosette said. I bit my lip in effort to keep from saying anything more incriminating.

The tailor finished the measurements and wrapped the tape back up.

"All done," he said.

"Thank you," Cosette said. "We will be back in a week to pick up the dresses."

"A week? Miss Cosette-"

"It was delightful seeing you again, Jean-Paul." She grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To lunch! A lovely little tea room; very private," Cosette said. We moved fast, passing nameless faces in the streets.

"We just ate breakfast," I said.

"Mid-morning tea, darling," Cosette said.

"Mid-morning?"

"You are so ordinary," Cosette said. "It is almost adorable." We entered a shop and a little bell chimed. A dozen women looked up from their small circular tables and all of the quiet conversation seized.

"A table," Cosette ordered quietly to the servant near the door. He directed us to a table. The chatter resumed. Yet still, I felt like eyes were on me.

We sat down and Cosette ordered a pot of tea and some scones.

"My brother likes you," Cosette said, as she poured us each a cup.

"He does not," I protested. My voice wasn't as forceful as I would have liked it to be though.

"I know him better than you," she said. "He does. He's trying to remain respectful and upright and noble because he's got the family name on his shoulders."

"Gabriel-"

"-is older than Henri. I'm the oldest, though. But Papa didn't trust Gabriel enough to give him everything," Cosette said. "As he shouldn't."

"Why?"

"Why didn't Papa trust Gabriel?" Cosette looked shocked. "Have you seen him? He is insane! I wouldn't be surprised if he killed someone. He can't stay betrothed. He can't get a job. He's horrid in his studies. He's never cared about making good impressions. He's the odd one."

They were all odd to me.

I took a bite of the bland scone.

"Don't do that!" Cosette said. She pointed at my cup of tea. "Gently dunk it. Gently!"

I splashed the pastry a little too hard.

"You are hopeless," Cosette moaned.