Her.

Chapter XI

A week later, and Haya was on a walk with Erik since they had become amiable once again, her emotions forgotten. There wasn't much happening, but there was a rumor in the town. People had seen her father being followed by men... Two men who looked like her mother. Their dark skin stood out in France, but it wasn't entirely out of place. Their uniforms, bright red with black embellishments is what arose a huge suspicion with the much loved Monsieur Beauregard. Erik had heard the talk and came to see if Haya knew any reason why such men would be following them. And, he very much liked their cordial walks.

"I don't know, Erik, really. He hasn't said much about anyone following him at all, maybe the people are seeing things?" She asked non-sealantly, shrugging as though it were nothing. Just like Erik had done with the letters.

"If I go to him, I shan't be getting anything out of that man. You know your father as well as I, Haya."

"I know," she bit, "But I do not know about these men! Maybe people are making a big deal of it because someone like me is following my father around!" She exclaimed hotly.

So much for cordial.

"I have nothing against that, but they are armed, Haya. Any armed man is dangerous," he told her gently.

"Maybe they aren't!" She hoped desperately, trying to fight and win a losing battle.

Erik stopped and grabbed her shoulders, looking into her hazel eyes with ferocity, "What if they are?"

Haya swallowed hard, looking at the man in front of her with fear.

"I-I don't know, Erik," she whimpered and pulled him into a very unwelcome hug.

He struggled to wrap his arms around her, knowing very well he shouldn't do such a thing. Propriety was never really his forte, though, so slipping his arms around her waist, he held Haya close to him.

She fit there, in his arms, anyways. Her head rested nicely on his chest, and her arms under his own created maximum contact from the embrace. He tried to remind himself that it wasn't anything but giving her comfort because she needed it. There was nothing more in her embrace.

"Haya, you should go back to your father; you shouldn't worry him."

"I can walk a little longer," she determined and then began to walk away from Erik, leaving his embrace.

Erik followed her with his hands in his pockets, kicking stones as Haya picked up the occasional interesting flower.

"Is there any reason we couldn't go on a picnic Wednesday?" Haya asked quickly, "Cordially, of course," she said and then smiled at him, hoping to convince him.

"Alright, that sounds nice, Haya."

"I'll bring the food," she said with giggle.

"I'll bring the bourbon."

"Then it's settled," Haya said and turned on her heels, heading for her house with her father awaiting her.

"Hello, papa," she said gently as she shut the door and smiled at him.

"Darling. How was your walk with Erik?" He asked her as calmly as possible, hoping she didn't take offense to it. Henry knew how strange she got over Erik.