God Help the Outcasts: A Disney Crossover Fanfic

Chapter Eleven: The Chase

"Well, no. My sister told me she'd been sworn to secrecy. But she gave me some clues, and one of them was that this woman was a 'big hit' at the Festival."

Clopin's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and he scratched his chin.

"You mean to tell me your sister sent you here to look for Esmeralda?"

Drizella nodded.

"That's how it appears to me." Clopin laughed again. "What's so funny?" Drizella crossed her arms and furrowed her brows. Clopin immediately stopped laughing and adopted a more sober expression.

"I didn't mean to offend you, madame," he said. "It just seems...well, it's just so-so unusual. I don't think anything like this has ever happened before. Well, except—" He suddenly stopped, much like Drizella had before.

"Except what?" Drizella leaned forward eagerly, hands pressed to the top of her chest. Clopin shook his head.

"I, too, have been sworn to secrecy," he said, but he couldn't keep the rogueish grin from his lips. Drizella tried to frown, but found she couldn't, not when he was smiling at her like that.

"You're just trying to trick me," she said. Clopin chuckled.

"Perhaps," he said, and then grew serious once more. "Tell me, mademoiselle, has your sister ever been to Paris?" Drizella gaped at him.

"How did you know?"

"Family resemblance." Immediately Drizella stood and went for the tent flap.

"Of all the nerve—"

"Madame, wait!" Clopin called, leaping to his feet; the sound of tiny bells jingling filled the tent. She pushed the fabric apart and stepped through, but Clopin caught her hand and pulled her back. "You can't leave. The guards haven't gone."

"Well, I'm not staying here with you!" she cried, wrenching her hand away.

"Please, mademoiselle, if you go, I should never forgive myself!" Drizella hesitated, simply out of shock. She turned and studied him; he seemed genuinely concerned. His black-gloved hand stretched out toward her questioningly, and his round black eyes were no longer turned up with laughter but wide with worry.

"And why is that?" she asked, letting the flap close behind her. Clopin visibly relaxed as she did so and returned to his seated position on the floor.

"Please, sit," he said again. Drizella shook her head.

"I prefer to stand." Clopin then stood himself.

"Then I shall stand with you." She couldn't help but chuckle, and Clopin's smile returned.

"Now tell me what that whole speech was about," she pressed.

"Well, part of it was simply to stop you," he admitted. "But another part was the truth. I would never forgive myself if I let you come to harm." Drizella frowned.

"Why such an interest in my well-being?" she asked.

"You were kind enough to pay my booth a visit," he said with a grin. "It is my personal way of...satisfying a debt, if you will." Drizella nodded, but didn't quite understand. Clopin cleared his throat. "Well, think nothing more of it. Now we must discover what connection your sister has with Esmeralda."

"Well, maybe you should tell me," Drizella said. "Since it seems you've seen her here."

Clopin giggled, a curious sound coming from a man.

"I did imply that, didn't I? Clever, clever." He smirked, though, and continued, "But then again, I may not have seen her. I may just be assuming that since you are sisters, you would look similar." So that was the meaning of his comment. It was meant simply to trick her. And it had worked, but with another side effect he hadn't expected. "So, your negative reaction to my comment hinted to me that you do not think yourself similar to your sister at all. Am I right?"