Death and Transfiguration

Chapter 7

I was at the bakery when it happened, trying to purchase some bread and a few pastries to get me through the week. The baker, a remarkably unathletic man in his thirties, looked at me with contempt as soon as I walked in, although I couldn't understand why. Somehow, I'd done something wrong already, but I couldn't imagine what it could be.

I walked up to the counter and looked at the pastries. They all looked delicious, and I had to remind myself not to waste too much of my hard-earned money on sweets. I looked up at the baker, and I said, "I would like two baguettes, an éclair, and..." I pointed toward the soft, sweet bread at the corner of the display, but I couldn't remember its name. However, it soon came to me. "It's called a brioche, isn't it?"

"It's pronounced brioche," the baker said, but I was sure that was how I had pronounced it. "Listen you silly girl, you're not in England anymore, and this is my bakery. If you showed even a single ounce of respect to this establishment and to the art of baking..."

All of a sudden, someone burst into the bakery. I turned around and saw the soprano from The Lost Shadow. "Mr. Crémieux," she said. "Leave that girl alone, or we might have to take this into the fencing hall."

"I'm not afraid of you, Valencourt," Crémieux said. "Thibodeaux says you're not that good of a fighter."

"Oh, really?" Valencourt said. "My undefeated record begs to differ."

I looked back at Valencourt: she looked different offstage, but no less glamorous. Her dress was more practical than fashionable, her light brown hair was loose and messy, and from this distance, I could see that she had a jagged scar running across the bridge of her nose. Nevertheless, she still radiated effortless beauty and charm, just like she had on the night of the premiere.

And here she was now, trying to start a fight in a bakery.

"I can still beat you," Crémieux said. "I'll make you wish you never walked into Chez Jean."

Valencourt laughed. "Good luck with that," she said. "I'll meet you in the fencing hall, and we shall duel for the honor of..." She turned to me and asked, "What's your name?"

"Matilda Brackenborough," I said.

"We shall duel for the honor of Miss Brackenborough!" Valencourt exclaimed. "Also, I think if I beat you, Crémieux, you owe me a free box of those delicious éclairs of yours."

Crémieux rolled his eyes. "And if I win, you'll never come to my bakery again?" he said.

"Sounds like a deal," Valencourt said.

"Wait a second," I said. "You two don't have to fight over me!"

"It's already done, Miss Brackenborough," Valencourt said. "Just be glad that I'm on your side." I sighed, and Valencourt asked, "Would you like to come with us to the fencing hall? I'm sure you'll want to watch me beat the shit out of Crémieux."

"I suppose so," I said, still shocked both by Valencourt's rude language and by the fact that she and Crémieux were fighting over me. Nothing about this situation made any sense whatsoever, but nevertheless, here I was.

"Crémieux!" Valencourt exclaimed, just as he was about to walk out the door. "Which sword are we using?"

"Women usually fight with the foil, don't they?" Crémieux said. Valencourt nodded. "Épée it is, then," he said with a smirk.

Crémieux walked out, and as soon as he was gone, Léa looked at me and smiled. "I think we're going to be just fine," she said.

"What makes you so sure?" I asked as I followed her out of the bakery and to the fencing hall.