His Angel

Chapter 3 - One Day Out There

The air almost seemed to chill at the mere presence of Frollo as he gazed down at his wards with zero warmth in his eyes. Quasimodo cowered under his gaze as he took a few steps back. (Y/N) followed in lowering her gaze, neither of them wanting to face their master's sinister stare.

"Um, g-good morning, Master." Quasimodo stuttered.

"Dear boy, whomever are you talking to?" Frollo questioned as he stepped into the bell tower.

"My...friends." He answered quietly.

"I see." Frollo stated as he tapped one of the gargoyles on the head, having turned back to stone before Frollo could see them moving about. "And what are your friends made of, Quasimodo?"

"Stone."

He was forced to meet Frollo's gaze as the man lifted his head and asked, "Can stone talk?"

"No, it can't."

"That's right. You're a smart lad." Frollo smirked as he walked on before noticing (Y/N). He beckoned her forward with one finger and she was quick to come over, bowing slightly when she stood before him.

"Hello, Master." She greeted softly, flinching slightly when she felt Frollo pat her head before running his fingers through her (H/C) hair.

"Hello, my dear." Frollo greeted her before holding up his basket for her to take. She sheepishly took it in her hands, earning an extra pat on the head as Frollo announced, "Now, lunch."

Upon hearing these words, Quasi dashed off to retrieve their lunch utensils while (Y/N) set out everything that was in the basket onto a small table. Frollo leisurely took a seat just as Quasimodo returned, placing a silver plate and chalice in front of Frollo while giving himself and (Y/N) two wooden plates and cups.

As the two siblings took their own seats across from Frollo, he pulled out a book and began to speak, "Shall we review your alphabet today?"

"Yes, Master. We would like that very much." Quasimodo answered.

"Very well." Frollo began to pour some wine into his chalice as he turned to face (Y/N). "Why don't you start us off today, (Y/N). 'A'?"

"A-abomination." (Y/N) answered, the word leaving a sour taste in her mouth, especially with her brother sitting right next to her.

"Good. Quasimodo, 'B'?"

"Blasphemy." He answered.

"'C'?"

"Contrition."

"'D'?"

"Damnation."

"'E'?"

"Eternal damnation."

"Good. 'F'?"

"Festival." Quasimodo blurted.

(Y/N) stiffened as Frollo spat out his wine. 

"Excuse me?" He questions.

"H-He said 'forgiveness'!" (Y/N) stuttered, trying to calm the older man but it was too late.

"He said 'festival'."

"No!" Quasimodo quickly denied.

"You are thinking about going to the festival." Frollo concluded as he stood from his chair, his glare falling to Quasimodo before drifting to the guilt-ridden expression of (Y/N). "And you've convinced your sister to do the same." He began to walk over to the stairs, descending them, as the siblings chased after him to try and explain themselves.

"It's just that you go every year." Quasimodo explained.

"I am a public official. I must go!" Frollo sneered, dreading the very thought of having to attend the event. "But I don't enjoy a moment. Thieves and cutpurses, the dregs of humankind, all mixed together in a shallow, drunken stupor."