Portrait in the snow

Chapter 12: A Guy Like You

The city was burning to the ground all of Paris was lit up in flames and the sky filled with smoke "Sir we've looked everywhere and still no sign of the gypsy girl o Belle" detto the soldier with the brown beard reporting to Frollo in the town square confused "I had the entire cathedral surrounded guards at every door there was no way she could have escaped unless" he thought gazing up at Notre Dame where Quasimodo was worried sick he hadn't seen Esmeralda in days and when news spread of Belle's disappearance he was in a panic now she had gone missing to the gargoyles...

Le Jour d'Amour was everyone in Paris’ favourite holiday, and it had rapidly become Clopin Trouillefou’s too. As he stood on the steps of Notre Dame, selling the yellow rose that were the symbol of this particular holiday, to those who would proclaim their Amore for their partners in a matter of days, Clopin smiled to himself. Eight years ago, he had met the woman of his dreams. Well, no, that wasn’t strictly true – they had met once before that, back when he was seventeen and she only seven – but eight years fa their paths had crossed again and they had been swept up in an adventure...