January 8, 1482 Paris, France
Y/N's POV:
I woke up to the bells of Notre Dame tolling softly outside my window. Someone pounded on the door. I knew it was my father, no doubt still angry about what happened yesterday. I groaned as I sat up in bed. "Come in," I muttered. He unlocked the door and shoved it open. I stayed silent, as I knew it was better to let him speak first, especially when he was angry. "Care to explain yourself?" he asked, seething with anger as he threw the journal in my direction. "There's nothing to explain. You already know everything," I spat. "Don't take that tone with me young lady," he said, growing more irritated. "How dare you disobey me like this?" I groaned. "I was only talking to her." "Lies!" he shouted. "That gypsy witch has you under her spell! They are not capable of real love!" I threw the blankets across the room and stood up, seething with anger. "How dare you say that? You don't even know her!" "And neither do you!" he countered. "All this- this is nonsense. A minor infatuation." I shook my head. "No." "I'm sorry, what did you just say?" he asked. "I don't think I heard you correctly." I straightened my posture before speaking up. "I said no. You're wrong, father. I love her." His eyes widened in shock before narrowing once again. I stood my ground, awaiting his reaction. Without saying a word, he walked closer to me and struck me across the face. I winced at the sudden contact. He looked to me and then to his hand, regret clear on his face. But it was too late, the damage was done. "Y/N," he started. "No. Save it! It's become clear how you truly feel about me." He said. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to apologize, to justify his actions. "You're sorry? You're sorry?! You can try everything in your power, but face it, you'll never be able to keep us apart." I spat. I fell onto my bed, sobbing violently into the pillow. My father left the room quietly, closing the door behind him.
Frollo's POV:
I decided to leave y/n alone. I needed to be alone as well. I felt like I ruined everything. For the first time in my life, my anger had gotten the best of me. And it hurt to see that I had taken it out on my daughter. I shook my head before walking to my study. I tugged a copy of the Bible from the bookcase and began reading it, trying to find an answer for my anger. I happened upon the Old Testament. "Men shall not lay with other men," I read aloud. Does that apply for women as well? I wondered. I sighed, knowing the answer. Y/n's affections for the gypsy girl were sinful, and they must be stopped. I walked back upstairs to y/n's bedroom. But y/n was gone. The window was open, she had escaped. I felt my rage building up inside of me. I had to find her at once.