ii.

LAURENTINE BONFAMILLE WAS SURROUNDED BY LAUGHTER twinkling like bells in her periphery, enriching every vein in her body as her heart swelled some more as she heard each sound.

Children surrounded her form, delighted tweens and giggling toddlers, as she hugged all those she could squeeze into one embrace, whilst the others wrapped their arms around her stomach and hugged her of their own accord.

"Merry Christmas, my darlings," She gushed, her face flushed with her devotion to the little children around her.

It was a cold but sparkling Christmas day, and the air of Paris was perfumed with the scent of cinnamon, baking and the fresh polish of new clothes being opened out of wrapped boxes. The snow lay packed underneath Laur's feet as she was bent at her waist in her devotion to the children, in the courtyard of the third and the last orphanage of her routine Christmas day stops.

She had been leaving with Adelaide and Berlioz, after having given two bag fulls of Christmas presents for the children and a donation for the orphanage to the grateful dean of the establishment, when suddenly the thankful children had poured out of the building and had ambushed her in the courtyard, not hesitant to show their love and admiration for the famed Paris opera singer who showed them such generosity every holiday and every month that she could.

This was the third and final orphanage of her routine stop for Christmas day, and the third orphanage she had been sent to as a girl of twelve years, separated from her eight year old sister who was kept in the previous one—Laurentine's second routine orphanage stop. The first orphanage was the one where only she had been sent to for a brief period, before she had joined Adelaide in the second one.

Laur donated to all three of the orphanages. She made separate bag fulls of Christmas presents for children in all three of the orphanages each year.

And though she wore a few scars on her body—apart from the mental ones—from her time in this third orphanage, where the previous dean—an old evil man who had been imprisoned a long while ago for extorting money—had stuck a heated spoon to the inside of her thigh, marking her in line with a cigar burn he had made before like some sort of sick counting mechanism on her flesh after he been done with her twelve year old form one day, Laur's heart was such so that she didn't feel the anger and hate she was supposed to feel upon her return to the premises where it had all happened. 

She didn't feel her pain in face of the laughing, cheerful faces of the other children in the orphanage, all of them now being cared for by a compassionate and resourceful dean who genuinely cared about the welfare of these father and motherless children. Their happiness made her pain seem like a distant, meaningless thing that no longer held any merit on her present form.

Laurentine hadn't ever told her younger sister about her time in this third orphanage, not wanting to cause discomfort or hurt her sister by things neither of them had the power to control. Yet still, sometimes, she wished she could voice the pain she had felt as a girl of twelve years. She wished she could voice that pain to somebody who she wouldn't hurt by doing so. Someone who would merely listen, and she wouldn't feel the guilt of burdening them with the pain of her past. She had a best friend she had voiced the pain of her past to, for the friend had been there with Laur, if not in the same room, they had been in the same building together as little girls. They had both been in this orphanage together, but Laurentine had hurt her friend by telling her. She had burdened her friend, and she had regretted it ever since.

"You are so beautiful, mademoiselle, just like a princess," A little girl's whisper reached Laurentine's ear then, and she was brought out from her reverie.

The little girl was pressed in an embrace to Laur, her little arms around the opera performer's stomach as the little girl refused to let go.

"When I grow up, I want to be just like you."

Adelaide Bonfamille giggled as she separated from the children who had embraced her as well, casting a cheeky glance at her elder sister.

"Are you quite sure?" The younger Bonfamille resumed just as cheekily, raising a brow at the little girl.

"It isn't rather a popular ambition in Paris, if you ask me."

Laur narrowed her eyes at her sister, before shaking her head and gently touching and lifting the chin of the little girl who still clung to her with a white silk gloved hand.

The girl met Laurentine's eyes hopefully, separating from the hug.

"You can wish whatever you want to, darling," Laur spoke softly, her brown eyes fixed into the little girl's orbs.

"And it shall all come true one day, I promise, though I should wish even harder that you become much better than me."

The little girl threw her arms around Laur's neck excitedly, determined in her wishes once more as she clung to Laurentine again, not wanting to let go, regardless of the other children all having separated from their benefactor.

"If that isn't the most Laur thing to say, I declare nothing is," A familiar voice called over the bustle of excited children, and Laur's heart beat quickened.

She looked up over the faces of the children, and saw the form her childhood best friend and confidante, the one who had been Laurentine's sole solace during her time in this third orphanage, the one person who Laur loved the most in this world after her own sister.

"Colette Blanc!" Laurentine exclaimed, mockingly narrowing her eyes into a pointed look as she straightened herself, brushing her the skirts of her gown gently as she watched the approaching girl grin her loving grin, the girl's black hair cascading behind her as her equally black eyes glinted at her friend whilst she held her own skirts in her fists, weaving her path through the snow covered orphanage courtyard.

"How dare you show your face in Paris before the holidays end!" Laur cried out, barely maintaining her stern mocking rebuke as she walked over to her best friend and met her halfway, wrapping her arms around the girl's neck and pulling her into an embrace in the courtyard of the last orphanage they had spent two years in together before running off into the world.

Ten years after they had both made their escape from this building as girls of fourteen, this was the first time they were here together again—a kind of symbolism that struck a chord deep inside Laur and almost moved her to tears. For though she herself returned often enough on holidays and whenever she had time to spare for charity, Colette Blanc was the kind of woman who preferred to not acknowledge old bridges she had swept past on, if she could help it.

"Mon Dieu, Colette," Laur breathed, her voice cracking slightly as she breathed in her best friend's familiar lily of the valley perfume.

"I missed you so much. You scare me when you leave Paris, it feels like I'm always half empty when you're gone."

Colette hugged her tightly back, rocking gently.

"And I missed you, mon ami," She let out. "You know how I love leaving Paris, but hate leaving you."

Laurentine separated from the embrace, peering into her friend's face.

"How are you back from Marseille so early?" She asked, "You didn't intend to come back to visit until January. I hope nothing is amiss. How is your boutique been doing? I've heard such praises of your designs coming in all the way from Marseille. Still, I can't imagine why you couldn't have opened a boutique in Paris, I could've seen you every other day. I believe you just like to torture me. I do still intend to visit your boutique one of these days and let every one of your acquaintances in Marseille know how conniving you actually are."

Colette laughed, her tanned facial skin dimpling at her cheeks as her dark eyes sparkled in amusement. The girl's appearance was a stark contrast to Laur's own, where Laurentine had hair the color of the afternoon sun, eyes the color of the sea and skin as fair as fair could be, Colette held the appearance of a woman who's skin had seen the suns of most beaches in the world, with her dark hair and equally dark eyes, she wasn't a reflection of her best friend in looks as much as she was in spirit and heart. Where one girl spent her time in Paris, dedicating herself to opera and life, the other spent time in a different city cultivating interests that were different than Laur's own.

"Chéri," Colette mused, "The boutique is doing wonderfully, indeed. As for being conniving, I plan to whisk you back to Marseille with me for a few days. The holidays are a perfect time to travel and I do so desperately wish for you to see the boutique and all the progress I've made recently."

Laurentine beamed. "Oh, I should love to!"

A soft meow sounded then, and Laur turned to look at the figure of Berlioz, his cream face looking up at her from the edge of her skirts with sparkling blue eyes, almost lost in the snowy ground that provided barely a contrast to his own fur.

"Oh, my darling," Laur bent down to pick him up, holding him to her chest as the cat melted in her embrace.

She turned excitedly towards Colette, bearing her kitten with pride.

"Look at my new baby, Colette," Laur cried out, cooing as she stroked Berlioz's fur. The cat bore his head high, knowing that he was being showed off.

"He's ten weeks old, I just got him six weeks ago," She continued as Colette gushed over the kitten, caressing him and stroking his fur as Laur held him to her chest.

"Aw, si précieux," The dark haired girl uttered with delight. "He's so adorable."

"I named him Berlioz," Laurentine added, before pressing a kiss into the kitten's fur, "And apparently he's going to be the most spoilt cat in Paris. Aren't you, my darling?"

Colette laughed. "Oh, I believe that entirely."

"And I believe someone is entirely ignoring me," A third voice spoke up, and both the ladies—Laur and Colette—turned their heads to look at the younger Bonfamille girl, as Adelaide stood pouting pretentiously to a side, no longer surrounded by children as they had drifted off to play in the courtyard.

"Darling Adelaide," Colette let out, spreading her arms out to pull the twenty year old girl into an embrace. "How I've missed you! Mon Dieu, look how much you've grown."

"Only a few months," Adelaide giggled, "You exaggerate too much, Colette, you most definitely did not miss me as much as you missed my sister."

"Well," Colette eyed the girl cheekily, "I have no comment on that statement."

Laurentine laughed, rocking Berlioz in her arms as he purred in delight, curling up to her chest and melting in her warmth.

Adelaide laughed too, before beginning to tell Colette about the girls' orphanage trips since the morning, and all the gifts they had distributed.

Colette listened with delight, before unbeknownst to Adelaide and her happy rambling, the dark haired girl's eyes drifted over towards the building of the orphanage beyond the courtyard, and her eyes clouded a little, the smile on her lips going smaller as though a candle softly being snuffed out.

Laur nudged her best friend's elbow softly, making sure to keep her gesture and voice low and discreet.

"Don't, darling. There's nothing to reminiscence."

Colette turned away from her thoughts, her eyes finding her best friend's as she snaked an arm around Laurentine's elbow, forcing a happy smile on her face as she leaned her head on Laur's shoulder.

"I suppose there isn't," The dark haired girl managed with a sigh, "I'm glad I knew where to find you this Christmas morning. Though I'm so happy you keep coming back here to give all these children such good memories. If we had had someone like you when we were little—someone who dropped by with presents and donations every time they could-who knows how we would've turned out."

Laur smiled, her eyes dropping to the fur ball at her chest. "I think we would've turned out the same as we are. I shouldn't like to be any different."

Colette nodded, her eyes watching the children, all spread out and playing in the snow covered courtyard.

"True, but for the sole sake of these children," The girl spoke, "I'm glad you are the way you are. Or who else would they have smiled for today? I'm not as strong as you Laur, it takes from me to come back here, you know that."

Laurentine nodded, her heart suddenly heavy, before she forced a smile onto her face and turned to look at her best friend. In a way, both of them bore scars from their time here. The previous dean had been far from a good man, and when the girls had finally decided to escape ten years ago, they had barely been able to support themselves on their feet. That, was how tattered both their fourteen year old forms were on that terrible night.

"You should meet the new dean," Laur suggested softly, "He is old but kind and generous, and he cares about every child under the orphanage's roof equally."

Colette didn't respond for a while, before she sighed again. "I wish I had the strength to."

"Come darling, I shall host you for a beautiful Christmas lunch at the mansion," Laur changed the topic then, pushing the heaviness in her heart away, her eyes sparkling. "We shall make the most of our surprise Christmas day together."

Colette exhaled a breath, still holding onto Laurentine's elbow. "That sounds wonderful, mon chéri."

"..and can you imagine, Colette?" Adelaide Bonfamille turned finally then to look at Colette and Laur as she stopped digging for something in her hand clutch, her eyes determined as she spoke of the scene she was telling—a narration that both Colette and Laur had apologetically stopped following amidst their own conversation and thoughts.

"I can't find it right now, I suppose I forgot it at home. But can you imagine?" The girl pressed, following quickly as Laur and Colette made their way to the waiting carriage that the Bonfamille girls had come to the orphanage in.

"It was a ring!" The girl exclaimed as both Laurentine and Colette giggled.

"It was well and truly a sapphire ring in that box! Laur had to write back a thank you card to the Monsieur Alain Martin last night since his letter with the ring had already begged her to keep it. She referred to the ring as a beautiful piece of jewelry that she had put graciously in her jewelry box. I mean, who in the world gives out a ring as a Christmas present? Monsieur Alain Martin is our neighbor for God's sake, Laur has only waved to him twice or thrice on the street. The man has not even had confidence enough to speak to her once. Besides, Laur didn't even like the ring enough to keep it. She didn't take an interest in any of the dozens of boxes that came for her."

Adelaide Bonfamille huffed as she finished the first part of her speech, plopping herself down on the carriage seat opposite to her elder sister and Colette's amused faces.

"I only had the strength to go through a few boxes of the suitors'," The girl continued, "And I found such things. I can't even imagine the amount of jewelry and other things that might tumble out from the boxes we added to the gift piles for the orphanages. I told Laur beforehand what I suspected and she called me too presumptuous, did you not sister?"

"Darling," Laur bit her lip in order to not smile a teasing smile to further agitate her sister. "It is alright. We have added tons of things that children like to those piles. Toys, bears, play sets, dolls, figurines. If they find jewelry as well, then is that such a bad thing? What little girl does not like jewelry?"

"And besides," Colette winked as the carriage trotted forwards. "Once a month the children get to sell things they have made. Pictures, lemonade, cupcakes, beaded bracelets. If they want, they could sell the jewelry as well, couldn't they? They could have more savings that way, if they ever decide to go out into the world before or after they come of age."

Adelaide Bonfamille considered the girls' words, a thoughtful expression on her face as she relaxed against the seat.

"I suppose you are right," She spoke then, her facial features relaxing. "Still, sister, your suitors need to be stopped. My peace of mind is at stake."

Laurentine laughed, dipping her head to look at Berlioz's lazy, curled form on her lap.

"Alright, I shall have Berlioz chase them all away," She mused, "You just have to wait a little for him to grow up and become stronger. He shall be our guard."

"Won't you, Berlioz?" Laur lifted him up to her chest again as he purred in delight. "My darling guard."

──── ౨ৎ ────

The air of the Bonfamille mansion was scented with cinnamon, chocolate and baked goods, radiating essentially from the rising cake in the gas stove that Laurentine Bonfamille had put in six minutes ago. Far from the kitchen, through a long carpeted hallway, a record spun on the record player in the west drawing room—where the ladies were all sat draped on the sofas and on the lush carpeted floor in front of a raging fire crackling in the fireplace—emitting the beautiful Richard Strauss composition of Symphony in D minor, as the music twirled in the cake scented air above, performing an invisible waltz of it's own.

Berlioz was cuddled in Laurentine's lap, as she sat on the ground with her knees tucked underneath her, his body reveling in the silk on her form and warm of it as she gently stroked his fur.

Colette Blanc was speaking of Marseille, of the city and her picking up boutique business. The dark haired girl was always expressive in the way she spoke, rendering details with such expertise that it made Laurentine feel as though she saw everything the girl spoke of in her mind's eye. But there was a certain gravity in the way her best friend spoke at present, answering Adelaide Bonfamille's curious questions with as much a flair as she could manage.

Laur kept her eyes on Colette, her suspicions of an underlying gravity in the girl's manner getting firmer each second with every word that Colette spoke.

They had all just had lunch an hour ago, a table full of delicious dishes that Laurentine had been planning for Christmas day with her maid for the past week. She meal prepped everything every chance she had gotten, her apron fastened to her waist as she had spent all the free hours she had gotten at the mansion in the past week, in the kitchen, tasting all her ingredients and planning out just the dishes she wanted to serve on Christmas day, regardless of the fact that it would be just her, her younger sister and their maid.

Aside from her talents with her voice, Laur liked to believe herself a thoroughly good cook, and though her younger sister often frowned at her vanity in regards to her kitchen abilities, both Adelaide and Manon—the maid, were still forced to agree when her baked croissants melted into their mouths, or when they grappled with the ecstasy of her sponge cakes and the spicy sharpness of the chicken gravies she made.

"Darling, you are exhausting Colette," Laurentine spoke then, her soft brown eyes pointed at her sister.

Adelaide Bonfamille frowned, playing pretend at being offended.

"I am not. Besides, am I wrong to believe Colette does not do this amount of talking on a daily basis? Why must I be blamed for indulging her?"

Colette gasped, grabbing hold of a sofa cushion and throwing it at the younger girl.

"Oh, you mischievous little squirrel!" Colette declared, before glancing at Laur, "And you assume me to be the conniving one! The audacity!"

Laurentine laughed. "Well, I didn't assume you to be the only one."

Berlioz perked up his little ear, eyes feigning slight irritation at the disturbance in the peaceful atmosphere as he leaned his head upwards to first cast a disapproving look at Colette and Adelaide, before casting frowny eyes upwards to Laurentine.

"Aw, my sweet little darling," Laur picked him up to her chest, cradling him in her arms. "Now, look at what you girls have done, disturbing monsieur Berlioz like you have! How utterly criminal."

Adelaide giggled at the reprimand.

"Come, mon amour," She got off the carpeted floor, picking Berlioz up with her as she did so.

"We shall go see to our cake, and leave these insensitive children be."

She pressed a kiss into Berlioz's fur as the kitten purred in adamant agreement, making Colette laugh.

Laurentine made to leave the drawing room, before exchanging a look with Colette. The dark haired girl's smile vanished a little as she read something in her best friend's eyes, a gravity to the girl's careful recollection of Marseille in which Laur had sensed something untoward. In their gaze, a silent promise of confidence and understanding ensued, with both ladies holding one end of the promise like they always did—and had since they were little girls of twelve meeting each other in a cruel orphanage twelve whole years ago.

In their brief gaze, Laurentine had let Colette know that she sensed something was wrong, and promised to understand whatever it was, whilst Colette had had to make the promise to tell whatever it was that had happened. For though Laur didn't much approve of unloading her own painful burdens on even her best friend, she was adamant that Colette—or anyone else in Laur's life—do not feel the same way.

Then Laur turned and waltzed out of the drawing room, stepping into the hallway that would take her straight to the kitchen, knowing that when she could, Colette would find a moment to talk to her when Adelaide was occupied.

"Mhm," Laurentine hummed, cradling Berlioz close to her chest as she opened the door of the gas stove, having added a padded mitten to her hand.

"It smells so delicious," She spoke to her cat, "Don't you think so, Berlioz?"

"It truly does, my lady," Manon—who was tidying up the kitchen—beamed in response as Berlioz purred in agreement.

"This shall be the best Christmas cake you have done yet."

Laurentine smiled at the maid, spinning to look at the girl as her gown flared against her legs and her kitten pressed himself some more against her chest and her hand that she held him with.

"I do not have time at present to make another," Laur spoke then, a thought crossing her. "But why don't you go to the market later today and purchase a ready made cake for your family? Take the money from me when you go."

"Oh no, my lady," Manon shook her head, tight and thin ginger curls falling out from the twenty year old maid's white bonnet.

"You have already given me a Christmas bonus," She uttered, "And I haven't even thanked you yet for the additional money you gave to my parents yesterday."

Laurentine narrowed her eyes playfully, rocking Berlioz in her hold.

"You have, Manon, possibly a hundred times I believe."

"It still isn't enough, my lady," The maid shook her head adamantly. "You are too generous."

"Well," Laur shook her head, kissing Berlioz's head. "I would feel it if you were at home with your parents, instead of working on Christmas."

"No, my lady," Manon turned her back to Laurentine, continuing to tidy up the kitchen. "You give me so many off days, I barely work. I know how busy it gets for you on Christmas. Lord knows Miss Adelaide would've barely managed all the times the doorbell rang last night. All those cards and boxes! If you are to have more callers today, I had better be here to help you manage."

Laur did not respond, her smile slightly fading as she thought of the calling cards still stacked up on the side table beside the Christmas tree in the foyer. She hadn't read anything more than the gentlemen's names on top of them, penned in perfumed cursive. Perhaps, some of them intended to visit today, and that is what they wrote in those cards. Laurentine hadn't read any of them, still, she could speculate the outcome.

Then, as Manon helped take out the cake from on top of the gas stove, the doorbell of the Bonfamille mansion rang for the first time that Christmas day, effectively signifying the first caller.

Manon wiped her hands on her apron, briefly glanced at Laur, and then hurried out of the kitchen to make her way towards the foyer.

Laurentine rocked Berlioz gently, as the kittens eyes fixated themselves on the gorgeously risen chocolate cake now resting atop the kitchen counter, unguarded and exposed in all it's glory.

"Come on, my darling," Laur murmured, giggling slightly as she sensed Berlioz's treacherous thoughts.

"It seems we will have to share the cake. Let us go see who our caller is, perhaps we're awfully lucky and they do not like cake at all."

Berlioz wagged his tail at that possibility, and Laur laughed, rocking him in her arms as she swayed out of the kitchen, making her way to the foyer as she heard the door opening in the distance and Manon's voice speaking to whoever who had called at Bonfamille manor on the bright Christmas day raging outside.