A Promise

Chapter One

I stood outside the boy's home, shivering from head to toe. My bare feet were numb, and snow was beginning to collect on my hair. I clutched Papa's letter to my chest and wrapped my thin rags around my body. "The boy better give me a lot of money, because I am not freezing my butt off out here for only a few measly francs!" I said to myself, my teeth chattering. I knocked on the door for the third time. "Come on, boy, I know you're in there. I saw your light on." I referred to him as "the boy," but truly, he was more of a man. A marble man, or so everyone said. I had caught glimpses of him in the streets a few times, preaching about politics and "Patria." He had chiseled features, wavy blonde hair, and a look that said, "Don't mess with me." You could say he was handsome, but to me he was just an opportunity. He was a rich bourgeois, I was a Thenardier. That meant one thing and one thing only: I was going to con him out of his money. That is, if he would ever open his door.

I impatiently tapped on the door a fourth time. Just as I was planning to break it down, the door swung open. There he stood, his hair slightly disheveled and bags under his eyes. "Sorry, I was in the middle of stud..." His voice trailed off when he caught sight of me. His mouth opened in shock. I could not blame him for his reaction. I was wearing thin rags that barely covered my body. My feet were bare and my bones jutted out from my emaciated body. I was covered in filth from head to toe, and my hair was a tangled, matted mess. Not to mention the bruises that covered my body from all the fights I had gotten into on the streets. The boy cleared his throat. "I was in the middle of studying," he finished, still staring at me with his mouth half-open.

"Monsieur, is everything all right?" I asked innocently. "Do I have something stuck in my teeth?"

"No," he replied.

"Then do me a favor and stop gaping at me."

Normally, a boy would turn away, bashful and blushing, when I said that. Not this boy, however. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at me, and without lowering his gaze, crossed his arms and leaned against the frame of the door. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked sharply.

Ooo, a bold one, I thought giddily. This will make my job much more interesting. "I live down the street, Monsieur, in an apartment building in the poor section of the town. My Papa wanted me to come deliver this letter to you." I held up the letter for him to see. The boy reached out for the letter, but I held it out of his reach. "Why, Monsieur, aren't you going to invite me in?" I asked. "You know it's bad manners to keep a lady standing out in the cold, especially without a coat and shoes."

"Right," the boy said, stepping aside to let me through the door. "Erm, won't you come in, Mademoiselle?"

"I would be delighted to! Thank you for asking," I said with a wink. Then I traipsed into his house. Whoa. I couldn't hide my astonishment. The house was amazing. From the outside, it had appeared to be a nice yet simple home, but the inside was a lavish, extravagant paradise fit for a king. Elaborate paintings hung on the walls in gold frames. Huge couches with big, soft cushions circled the room. A fire roared in the fireplace, filling the room with warmth and light. There were books stacked all over the place in neat, tidy piles. I stared around at the room, my jaw hanging open.

"Mademoiselle, is everything all right?" the boy asked. "Is the room too messy?"

"No," I replied, still gazing around in awe.

"Then do me a favor and stop gaping at it."

I whipped my head around and gave him a hard look. This boy was definitely unlike any boy I had ever met. I had a bad feeling that he would not be so easily conned as the other people I had scammed in the past. I had to try, though, or Papa would not be pleased.