Chapter Text
"My eyes, they're burning," Andre screamed through his teeth as the doctor treated his wound. Oscar bit her lower lip so hard she could almost feel her veins pumping. The sight of bloodshed had never bothered her, but this time was different. She wanted to look away, unable to imagine the pain Andre was going through, knowing it was all her fault.
Oscar's eyes were filled with unshed tears, as if one blink would break her composure and she'd burst out crying; but she refused to look away, punishing herself for coming up with a reckless plan. The room was filled with the pungent smell of antiseptic, and she could almost hear the sizzle on Andre's skin each time the medicine worked its way through his cuts.
Andre could barely see, but he could sense Oscar's presence in the room. He gave her a weak smile. "Oscar... I'm glad it wasn't you who got hurt... I would've gladly given up my life for you."
Oscar quickly stepped out of the room, collapsing by the staircase as she broke down crying. The overwhelming guilt and sorrow were too much to bear. Her forehead leaned against her arm, resting on the nearest pillar she could find, the tears she had been holding back now flowing freely. In the dim light of the hallway, her sobs echoed softly. She felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness and regret. The plan, which had seemed so foolproof, had backfired horribly. Now, not only was Andre gravely injured, but Rosalie was also in danger because of her.
Doctor Larsson approached quietly from behind, placing his hand on Oscar's left shoulder as a form of reassurance. "The bleeding has stopped," he said softly. "The whip missed his left eye by a hairline. He may end up with a hideous scar under his eyebrow, but his eyes are alright. He can't see temporarily because of the swelling, but his eyesight should return soon enough."
Oscar's tense shoulders sagged slightly with relief, though the weight of guilt still pressed heavily on her. Doctor Larsson had watched them grow up together, and he had lost count of how many times he'd been called to the house to relocate their shoulders, to patch up some minor cuts, or to tend to their bruises from their childhood adventures. But this was the first time he'd seen Oscar in such visible agony.
"Oscar," Doctor Larson continued gently, "he's going to be alright. The injury isn't as severe as it looks. He just needs rest and time to heal."
Doctor Larsson saw himself out, having familiarized himself with the De Jarjayes mansion over the years, allowing Oscar to return to the room where Andre lay. The painkillers were kicking in, and he was barely conscious. Oscar watched as Andre drifted off, flashbacks of the night's events haunting her mind. She cursed the day she came up with the reckless idea.
“Absolutely not, leave my hair out of this!” Andre protested, his voice rising with indignation, eyes wide in frustration.
“Shut up, Andre! How dare you talk back to Lady Oscar?!” Nanny did not try to hide her anger, her voice sharp and cutting. “This is the only way you can consider yourself useful at this time,” she added, her tone dismissive, with no consideration whatsoever for her grandson’s feelings.
Oscar chuckled under her breath; her amusement barely contained. She couldn’t be more grateful that Andre was agreeing to her plan. In fact, she couldn’t hide her excitement as she gazed at Andre’s new look. She would need some time to get used to his short hair, but it suited his face remarkably well. The moment he put on the black cape, black leather boots, and the black outfit that resembled the Black Knight, she let out an involuntary gasp of awe. She had hardly seen him in anything other than his uniform. Who would have thought black would be his color?
These recent robberies by the so-called "Black Knight" had caused trauma among the noble families in Paris. The commoners, however, had no intentions of helping the police catch him, as he never robbed from the poor, only the nobles. The Black Knight’s audacity and skill left the noble families in a state of constant fear and agitation. He seemed to operate with impunity, slipping through the fingers of the authorities like a ghost. Despite their best efforts, the police had yet to uncover any leads, and frustration was mounting among the city's elite.
Oscar couldn’t stop herself from reminiscing about the first time she and Andre were planning their first heist. Later that same night, Andre stealthily made his way to Oscar’s room. The moonlight filtered through the grand windows, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the room. Oscar was waiting for him, her eyes reflecting the same resolve and determination that had brought them together. She knew they couldn’t risk too many people knowing about their plans, especially with the Black Knight’s identity remaining a mystery.
Andre closed the door quietly behind him and moved swiftly to Oscar’s side. “We need to be careful,” he whispered. “The Black Knight is no ordinary thief. He completes each job in a matter of minutes. He must have an accomplice or someone feeding him inside information.”
Oscar nodded, her expression grave. “He manages to escape the city guards and bypass the securities of the houses as if he grew up here, knowing the city like the back of his hand. This is no opponent we can underestimate.”
"Are you sure about this, Oscar?" Andre asked, his voice tinged with concern as he adjusted the collar of his cape.
Oscar bit her lower lips looked up, determination blazing in her eyes. "I know it's risky, Andre, but we have no other choice. The Black Knight is no common thief. We need to lure him out, to find out what he’s thinking, what he’s planning."
Andre sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he looked at her. "Oscar, no one would do such a reckless thing if it wasn’t you who’s asking."
“I wouldn’t know. I’m just grateful that I have you on my side, like always.” Oscar stepped closer to where Andre was standing. She wanted to have a better look at the man she loved. Nothing had changed since the day they confessed their feelings for each other, and he was still here, obliging her most ridiculous requests.
“Where else would I be?” he took one step toward Oscar, his hand resting on her waist, his eyes locking with hers. Her lips were mere inches away from his, so close he could almost taste her breath. He had to fight his urge to kiss her, a struggle he knew well even before their feelings were confessed. Now that they had decided to keep their relationship discreet, it only made it harder for him to resist embracing her, wishing their moments alone could last forever.
Oscar’s heart raced, feeling the warmth of his hand through her chemise. She leaned in slightly, her gaze softening as she whispered, “We have a long night ahead of us.”
He tightened his grip on her waist, his thumb brushing gently against her side, sending shivers down her spine. “Exactly.” He pulled her closer, pressing his lips against hers. Oscar let out a soft gasp; the commander in her was screaming for her to get back on duty, but Andre's kiss washed over her like a wave of pure passion. How she had missed his kiss, his touch, his warmth. Seeing his new look had ignited a new spark in her that she had not experienced before. He is no longer the little boy her father took in almost 20 years ago but a grown man who loved her undoubtedly, and she was lucky enough to realise she was in love with him too.
Their kiss deepened, and Oscar felt herself melting into him, surrendering to the moment. She could taste the lingering remnants of the black coffee he had drunk earlier, mingling with the sweetness of his lips. His hands roamed her back, pulling her even closer, as if he feared letting go would make this moment vanish.
Oscar’s hands moved up to tangle in his hair, her fingers threading through the short locks she was still getting used to. The sensation of his soft, thick hair against her skin only heightened her awareness of him, of the electricity sparking between them. She felt his heart pounding against her chest, matching the rapid beat of her own.
Andre’s kiss grew more insistent, more passionate, as if he was pouring all his love and longing into this one moment. His hands moved down her back, exploring the curve of her spine, the swell of her hips, as if memorizing every inch of her. Oscar's breath hitched, the intensity of his touch making her dizzy with desire. In that instant, all the worries and responsibilities of their mission faded away. There was only Andre, his love, his touch, his presence. She felt safe in his arms, cherished, as if nothing else in the world mattered.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. Oscar’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Andre’s gaze, filled with love and adoration.
"Are you sure you're up for this?" Oscar's voice was filled with concern. She had gotten too caught up with her mission to catch the Black Knight, and her excitement when her plan went into motion carried her away. She had never let emotions hinder her judgement, but now, as it was finally time to send her beloved Andre out there, a chill of anxiety ran down her spine. What was she missing? There is no room for error here. Had she accounted for all the possible scenarios? It might be too late to back down now; Andre couldn't be seen in public with his new look, or they might spook the real Black Knight who was lurking in the shadows, watching them.
"Now you're having second thoughts?" Andre seemed amused, though his eyes reflected his own underlying tension.
"I'm not entirely comfortable sending you out there by yourself," Oscar admitted, her voice wavering slightly.
"But you're not," Andre reassured her, stepping closer. "You'll be watching my back, like we always have since we were little kids. Besides, I already sacrificed my beautiful locks for this heist. I'd resent you if it were for nothing." Andre tried to lighten the mood.
Oscar managed a weak smile, her hand instinctively reaching up to touch the short hair that now framed Andre’s face. As she looked into his eyes, finding strength and determination there, she knew he is still her anchor in these uncertain times. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Alright. Let’s do this. But remember, if anything feels wrong, you pull back immediately. Promise me.”
“I promise,” Andre said softly, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it gently.
As he turned to leave, Oscar couldn’t help but watch him, her heart pounding. The love she felt for him was a powerful force. She knew they were stronger together, Andre's swordmanship has improved with hers over years of practice, and she will only be a whistle away to back him up.
She sat down beside him, her fingers gently brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. The memories from that night is now bittersweet, she loved him with all her heart, but how could she send him in danger if she truly loves him? She might as well handed the Black Knight the whip that night.
As she was agonising over her decision to go through with the plan, she clasped Andre's hands. His breathing was steady, but the sight of his injuries filled her with a deep sense of regret. She had been so focused on the mission, so determined to catch the Black Knight, that she hadn't fully considered the dangers her plan posed to those she loved. Oscar gently squeezed Andre's hand, her thumb gently stroking his knuckles. "I'm so sorry, Andre," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I never meant for you to get hurt. I thought I could handle everything, that I could protect everyone. I'm so powerless" she let out of soft sniffle.
Andre stirred slightly, his hand weakly squeezing hers. Even in his semi-conscious state, he was reaching out to comfort her. His loyalty and love were unwavering, and that only deepened her resolve to set things right.