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She straightened up and turned her shoulders to him. “I must tell you why I acted the way I did the last time we spoke. I was not sure of your intentions at our meeting place. There are rumors to be wary of newcomers.”

“And why is that?” he asked.

She spat the question. “Are you an informant, Rollant? Are you here to throw us in prison?”

His eyebrows lifted high. “You have a straightforward nature, élise. It fits you well,” he said with eyes that ran over her face. “And no, I shan’t be doing anything of the sort.”

Her head inclined, and he finally put two and two together: Au Pain Roux and Gabin Roux. His mind flashed seeing her two weeks prior and the hesitant glances she gave to the same few men, or had it been only to a single man?

Before she replied, he asked, “Does Gabin own the bakery?”

“Yes,” she said, unsure where this line of inquiry would go.

“Do you live there with him?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, and her cheeks turned red. “If you are of an old soul, you would not like the answer.”

“I believe in God,” he replied, “but I’m sure he has no use for me anymore.”

She pulled the sleeve of her shirt down on her wrist, where he noticed a bruise.

“Why do you ask?” Her eyes were cast down, not on him.

“I couldn’t help but notice the bruise you tried to hide on your shoulder the last I saw you and the bruise on your wrist today. The way you said Gabin Roux as if he was an important figure in the community and that you ’were his woman’, instead of ‘we are together.’”

“It’s a hard life,” she scoffed, eyes still averted. “You get hurt working. I’m sure you are no stranger to bruises during your service at sea.”

He gently guided her cheek so that her eyes followed to align with his.

Her irises betrayed her—the deep depths swirling in doubt and despair.

“If Gabin is hurting you, I will not stand for it. If I see it or hear it, I will take action,” he gritted.

Many women were beaten by their husbands.

He ignored it and sat in his attic apartment, letting the times change naturally, but it infuriated him that another man dared lay hands on the one before him.

He had never beaten Amée. He loved her too much to treat her as property.

It seemed his thinking was an out-of-place norm, but he never cared about social norms anyway.

“Don’t worry, then.” She snapped her face from his touch, and he replaced his hand behind his back. “You’ll never see it, and you’ll never be around to hear it,” she replied, validating his assumption. “And if you did anything to Gabin, this whole community would hang you from the streetlamps.”

He leaned in. “They could try,” he said with a smirk.

She laughed with a jolt and wiped away a sudden, runaway tear.

“You have a good heart, Rollant. ” Her voice was thick.

“I can tell already. Not too many men like you.” She sniffed and hardened her stare.

“But stay away from Gabin. Do not cross him. Not for my sake. The world needs good men. And this community needs Gabin. He feeds them for cheap. He isn’t completely horrible. ”

“Are these then free meals from Gabin?” He gestured to the bread in her arms.

She chuckled and wiped away another tear. A row of teeth bit into her bottom lip as she shook her head. “This is my free meal from Gabin. My daily wage for working for him.”

“You share your earned meal with others? I would argue it is not free.” Rollant tilted his head in awe of such a woman—sharing when she had so little.

“He gives me three baguettes from the night before and shares his stew with me in the evenings if I did what he told me to do.” She shrugged as they continued walking to her next stop.

“This Gabin withholds food from you as punishment?” Rollant shook his head, and the injustice tightened his shoulders.

“Of course.”

“This is common, then?”

“My father did and my aunt did too. I assume I never knew any difference.” She peered up at him. “How would you punish someone who disobeyed?”

“It would depend on what they did, I suppose. But even prisoners are fed,” he said as a man bumped into his shoulder, running past them.

“Well, then, maybe I am Gabin’s prisoner.

You know I can never leave him. And I hope you aren’t staying for a chance to .

. .” She sighed. “I cannot leave him. He will hunt me down. I am his, and everyone knows it.” Her voice lowered, and he could barely hear her over the bustling streets.

Their moment of calm and peace had been overrun by reality.

They walked in silence until she said, “You can leave if that was your goal.”

Rollant said nothing for a while. He didn’t know what his goal was with élise.

He just wanted to know her. He was attracted to her.

He hated this life for her. But their relationship could never be more than a modest friendship.

He looked off at the merchants lining the street.

He could leave; she told him to, in fact.

But again, he couldn’t. He would help her through life as much as he could, which wouldn’t be much. He had to return to the king soon, but he could still leave a friend behind in case he needed one later and give her an opportunity for a new life should she ever find herself able to leave Gabin.

He changed the subject and said, “If you could have anything to eat, what would it be?”

“What?” she asked with a chuckle. “I half expected you to continue down the street without another word.”

He shrugged as a child ran past him, making him walk closer to élise.

He brushed her arm with his as he moved her out of an unfocused man’s heavy gait down the street.

“I need a friend or a familiar face in these parts,” he said close to her ear.

He pushed the desire to move the loose strands behind her headscarf out of mind.

“Would that suffice as a reason to stay in your company?” he asked as the two moved back to a respectable distance.

“I suppose,” she said, glancing at a woman who stared at her and Rollant.

She turned her attention back to Rollant.

“To answer your question: If I could have anything to eat, it would be a meal shared with a big family next to a warm hearth. We would all eat a roasted chicken, seasoned and cooked to perfection, fresh vegetables with a butter sauce, warm, fresh bread with an assortment of fancy cheeses . . . ” She laughed. “My mouth is watering already.”

“Maybe add a pastry or two,” Rollant leaned in with a smile.

“Yes, and maybe a tart. Oh, and chocolate. That would be a luxurious meal fit for someone . . . who is not me.” She wiped her mouth and wet her dry lips with her tongue. “Why would you ask me such a question, Rollant? Make me wonder what a different life would be like yet again.”

“Again?” he asked.

A sheepish grin grew on her mouth. Her cheeks flushed red like wine spots. “Oh, I . . . It’s nothing,” she said and diverted from their path. “I will be right back,” she said and hurried up to a door, handing a piece of her bread to the patron who answered her knock.

She dodged a horde and made it back to Rollant’s side.

“I have one more stop, and it was part of why I asked your assistance,” she said.

“This family is very ill. The father died, and the mother is sick and cannot work for food. The children work to pay the rent, but they have a horrible cough. They always need something done around their home, and I am so tired after I visit with them. I hope I have not misled you.”

He smiled and thought it odd Gabin wasn’t there to help her, or maybe not odd at all.

“You have not,” he said. “As you told me, I am well-nourished and can lend my skills.”

Her sheepish grin returned. “I appreciate your help, Monsieur, and I am amazed at your memory.” She nodded to a side street situated next to a carpenter’s store. “It is this way.”

They walked side by side until the street narrowed, and she took the lead.

The air was stale, and the spring breeze did not reach the corridor.

They finally came to a small apartment complex, and élise entered.

The shared bathroom’s pungent aroma filled the hallway.

She went to a door down the hall and opened it.

“Greetings, Madame Marie,” she whispered.

“In here,” a woman rasped. élise pulled a full baguette and a pouch from her bundle and placed them on the small table in the single-room apartment.

“Who’s this?“ Marie, curled up in bed, said and pointed a weak finger at Rollant.

“This is a new friend. I’ve asked him to help me with the chores you need.”

“He’ll come back and rob me or kill me or take my children. Why did you bring him here? Now he knows where I live? You’ve doomed us all.”

élise adjusted the woman’s thin pillow and sat her up to allow her to drink some water. “I would never do such a thing if I did not think him a good man.”

“Hmm. If you find me murdered, then my blood will be on your hands,” Marie said with a cough.

élise peered over her shoulder at Rollant. “Could you please stoke the fire and heat the water pan for her bed? Its grown cold.”

He nodded and did what was asked of him without a word. His presence frightened the woman, and he didn’t want to scare her further.

After spending some time there cleaning, washing, and cooking porridge, they left. Marie called out after élise as they headed to the door, “Bring him back. He was good.”

élise smiled at Rollant before answering Marie. “I think today was just a one-time visit. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Have a good night, élise. I wish a good life for you.” Marie snuggled in her warm bed to wait for her children to return.

The door closed, and they walked back to the street.

Rollant noticed out of the three baguettes she had started the day with, she only had a third of one left. “Are you hungry, Rollant?” she asked, offering him the last of her bread.