"You don't have to help me, Jean-Jacques."

"But I'm better at it than you."

Chloé let out a surprised guffaw, dropping the knife she had been using to chop carrots. She had expected Jean-Jacques to insist on helping but his bluntness was a surprise. And a little wounding. She was supposed to be looking after him and here he was telling her he could do a better job himself. He couldn't even comfortably reach the kitchen counter without a stepping stool and she was apparently still inadequate in comparison. She frowned at the unevenly cut vegetables in front of her, a small blush of shame working its way onto her cheeks.

Jean-Jacques laughed, "Don't sulk, Chloé, it's not as though you can't do it at all."

Chloé couldn't help her lips twitching into a smile in response. She reached over to ruffle his hair. "Well, aren't you a talented little boy? Maybe you don't need me anymore in that case?"

"No, no, stop!" he kept laughing, trying to shake her hand off. His movements jostled the stool beneath him and very nearly made him fall, had Chloé not steadied him by grabbing his shoulders.

"So, you do still need me for some things. Be more careful or you'll get hurt."

"That's not fair. You're the one who flustered me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Chloé feigned ignorance, grinning at Jean-Jacques. "Anyway, even if you weren't so clumsy, I can hardly leave a boy alone with all the dangers in a kitchen in good conscience."

"So I can fight armed soldiers alone everyday but I can't be trusted with a knife?"

"When bullets can't hurt you, yes. Unfortunately," Chloé grabbed his hand and rubbed circles into the skin with her thumb, "your skin isn't quite so thick in this form."

The tips of Jean-Jacques' ears turned red. "R-right."

"Then we've come to an understanding. Until you're older you'll just have to put up with me stepping on your toes in the kitchen. I might just become better than you at it before that time comes."

"No way! Just you watch, Chloé, I'll get so good at cooking you'll think everything I make is the best food you've ever tasted!"

Chloé sighed fondly. She had lit some kind of fire under him. Though that was probably a good thing, Jean-Jacques was meek by nature so it was reassuring when he was more emotive, and she had noticed that around her he tended to show this passionate side of himself more often.

Though Chloé liked children she had no idea how to raise one, and it had been so long since she was a child herself it was difficult to put herself in Jean-Jacques' shoes in order to empathise with him. He was also very different from any of the d'Apchier children she had watched grow up and he was certainly nothing like Jeanne. Being a fulltime caretaker was overwhelming, especially when she demonstrably couldn't even take care of herself in a lot of cases. Still, she was determined to give Jean-Jacques something at least resembling a pleasant childhood. She had hated the walls of her castle for as long as she could remember and she was determined to spare him that resentment.

Even so, it hadn't been an easy adjustment period into their new life. Cooking had been one hurdle, one that had gradually shifted from her responsibility to something they both helped with, although Jean-Jacques had taken charge in the end. Her cooking had been edible, but further praise than that would probably be a gross exaggeration.

Jean-Jacques deserved to be well looked after, he was a growing boy after all – or at least he was probably growing. It was hard to say when she knew from experience that vampires could stop quite early into the developmental stage. But he was diligent and talented, and it turned out he picked up the intricacies of cooking far faster than she could, even when his mother had been in charge of that at home and he hadn't any prior experience. They had also discovered one advantage of her repeating world: the food in the pantry regenerated at the beginning of every day, meaning they would never have to worry about going hungry.

Now the real issue was education. She had decided early on that she should teach him as much as she could, though she wasn't an especially experienced tutor. When he finally got to leave Gévaudan into the wider world she wanted him to have as many skills as possible so he could live an easy life. Most of the people she had known throughout her life were scientists already well-acquainted with the world formula and very quick to take in new information. Jean-Jacques on the other hand couldn't even read and write.

After eating together they headed to the schoolroom at Chloé's insistence. The old schoolroom hadn't been in use since Jeanne's visit to the castle and it was covered in a thick layer dust and cobwebs. Together Jean-Jacques and Chloé cleaned it up, though it remained quite a dull, uninviting room nonetheless. No matter the time of day it always felt as though there was never enough light in the castle, the sun absolutely refusing to appear, leaving the room bathed in grey. Regardless, Jean-Jacques seemed perfectly excited to begin. Seeing Jean-Jacques seated at her old desk while she stood at the front of the room made Chloé feel oddly nostalgic, despite her lack of fondness for her childhood.

"Jean-Jacques, we are going to spend at least four hours studying every day. In here I am not just Chloé, I am your teacher, and I expect to be treated as such. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am?" He said uncertainly.

"That will do nicely."

They started with the basics, getting him to learn the alphabet, and already Chloé could feel a disconnect between how quickly she was explaining things and how quickly Jean-Jacques was picking up on them. Chloé continued to power through anyway, she had goals for how much she wanted to teach him that day and she intended to meet them. Jean-Jacques was doing his very best at least, even though she wasn't meeting him on his own terms.

The time continued to fly by until, as she was pausing between thoughts, Chloé focused on Jean-Jacques' face. His brows were knit tightly together and his eyes were flicking between her and the page in front of him in something like panic. Chloé made her way over to his desk, looking over his shoulder. Jean-Jacques hunched forward to obscure his work.

"Now, Jean-Jacques," she said sternly, "You can't be doing that. How are you supposed to improve if you aren't willing to tell me when you're struggling?"

Reluctantly, he unfolded and leaned back in his chair, though he still wouldn't meet her eyes. Chloé looked over his messy handwriting carefully, the letters on the page all different sizes and many not quite the right shapes. She plucked the quill from his hand, leaning further into his personal space to scribble some corrections down beside his attempts.

"You shouldn't be embarrassed, Jean-Jacques, this is a good start. I'll keep a closer eye on you from now on to be sure you're on the right track."

"I'm sorry for being such a burden." He shifted uncomfortably.

"How about we take a break?" Chloé said, feeling bad about how hard she had pushed him. He looked exhausted and she hadn't been a patient teacher. Her own tutors had been as such and though she wouldn't dream of doing such a thing to Jean-Jacques she could remember corporal punishment as a consequence of not paying enough attention to her studies.

"But the four hours aren't up yet?"

"You did such a good job today that I think you deserve to finish early." Chloé pet his head. "Don't expect this to happen very often, I'm going to work you to the bone in future."

"Really? I did well?"

"Of course you did," Chloé smiled. "Come on, I'm going to play some music, would you like to accompany me?"

"Yes please!"

Chloé reached out her hand to him and Jean-Jacques took it without hesitation. The two walked hand in hand through the castle, until they came to the castle's largest sitting room. Jean-Jacques lit the fireplace and took a seat on one of the large, plush sofas while Chloé seated herself at the harp in the corner of the room and plucked a few strings, testing that it was tuned correctly.

When she was satisfied she closed her eyes and let her hands move with practised ease along the strings. Gentle music flowed through the space, echoing across the old stones. It was a song Chloé had composed herself, a scrapped piece that was originally created with altering the world formula in mind that had ultimately fallen short and been repurposed. In some of the notes the power it was supposed to hold still reverberated, and the sorrow Chloé felt when she had composed it came through forcefully.

Jean-Jacques was enraptured. Chloé seemed so at home playing music, as though it was merely an extension of herself. She was beautiful. Her face was stonelike, no emotion flickering across her features, yet Jean-Jacques felt like her heart was crying out. Tears sprung to his eyes and he hastily wiped them away, even as more welled up in their place. Eventually the song came to an end, the final notes hanging in the air as Chloé opened her eyes, looking to Jean-Jacques and starting at his wet cheeks.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes, don't worry," Jean-Jacques sniffed, wiping his eyes. "Your playing was really pretty."

Chloé got up and sat herself down next to him, throwing an arm around him and rubbing his arm reassuringly. "I'll play something less sad next time. I don't want to be the reason you're crying."

"You don't need to do that," Jean-Jacques said. "I liked it. Can you... Can you teach me music too?"

"Of course I can. Have you thought about an instrument you want to play?" Jean-Jacques didn't answer and Chloé huffed. "Thought not. Give it some time and tell me when you figure it out. I can play anything, so your choices aren't limited."

"Really?"

"Really. I promise to make you the second-best musician this castle has ever seen."

"Second?" Jean-Jacques questioned.

"Well, you're not going to surpass me, not in a thousand years," Chloé smirked.

They lounged in the sitting room for a while, until Jean-Jacques started to get visibly tired. Chloé took his hand again and they began the trek to their bedroom. As they walked Chloé felt Jean-Jacques stop unexpectedly and looked back to see him staring at the wall in front of him. Chloé hadn't been paying attention, walking without taking notice of her surroundings, and was confronted with the portraits of the d'Apchiers extending far down the hall. Chloé looked at all those eyes staring back at her accusingly, the children who had paid for her sins, and found it too difficult to keep them in her sights, turning her gaze to the ground instead. Jean-Jacques squeezed her hand and she turned to him, eyebrow raised in question.

"Chloé, do you hate your family?" He said quietly.

Chloé's mouth went dry. "Now why would you ask that?"

"Because," he touched the portrait closest to him, one with a mother holding her baby in her arms, "neither of us belonged with our families."

"I don't. They were kind to me, they loved me. In the end... we weren't compatible. Or, rather, I wasn't compatible with them, but I still love them."

"Am I a bad person for hating mine?"

"No." She bent down to his level, brow furrowed. "No, you shouldn't think that. If your family betrayed you and hated you then they no longer have any right to your love."

"But the d'Apchiers betrayed you too!" Jean-Jacques challenged. "They don't deserve your compassion any more than my family deserves mine!"

"That's not true. You see, I'm the one who betrayed them first." Just saying it made pain lance through her chest. "Please don't speak ill of the d'Apchiers, don't insult their memory, they were good people."

Jean-Jacques bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Chloé, I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's all right, I know you mean well."

"I just-" Jean-Jacques paused, struggling to find the words. "I don't understand," he said finally.

Chloé breathed out. "Think about the two of us, my family meant the same to me as you do. The only difference is that we are able to understand one another in a way I never could with my family. Because we're the same. My family was never as close to me as you are right now, so even if I loved them you are as special to me as I am to you. Sometimes love isn't enough, and it wasn't with the d'Apchiers. That doesn't make them bad people."

"Oh."

"If you still don't understand that's all right." Chloé cupped his cheek affectionately. "I have you now, someone who means the entire world to me. Family isn't everything." She stood up. "Let's go now, this corridor is too gloomy."

When they reached their bedroom they changed into their nightgowns. Jean-Jacques had been using Chloé's since living in the castle because he was only a little smaller than her and he didn't mind wearing something so feminine to bed. Originally Chloé had been concerned about making him wear it, but it was easier than finding bedclothes that would have belonged to the men who used to live in the castle and that would have been too big for him anyway. Jean-Jacques looked quite charming in it anyway, positively adorable.

They lay down together in the massive bed, Jean-Jacques taking the side closest to the door, as he always did, Chloé suspected out of some amusing desire to protect them both should anyone enter the room. They lay facing each other, a gulf of distance between them as neither took up much space atop the huge mattress. Chloé gave Jean-Jacques a small smile. He tried to smile back but faltered, unable to hold the expression.

"What's wrong?" Chloé reached out for him.

"I should have killed him," he muttered.

"What?"

"My father. I should have killed him." There was a flash of sharp teeth.

"Jean-Jacques-"

"I don't just hate him, I regret that he's still alive! The idea that somewhere out there he's happy makes me sick!"

Chloé wavered, there was so much anger inside Jean-Jacques, and, really, she should have realised that when she saw the giant wolf he could become. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tight to her chest. She wasn't sure what else to do. While they had a lot in common this wasn't a part of Jean-Jacques she understood. Her anger was focused and direct in a way that made it easy to control. His spilled over in all directions, barely contained and always prone to rearing its head at any moment. She wondered if all the stress of the past weeks without talking about all the anguish they had gone through had gotten too hard to hold in for him. She was an adult, and adept at bottling her emotions up, it made sense that Jean-Jacques wasn't quite so equipped to hold everything in.

"I'm sorry I can't do more for you now, and that I couldn't do more for you then. I love you, Jean-Jacques, if your family failed you I'll do everything in my power to make up for that."

Jean-Jacques' body shook as he started crying, clinging to her like a lifeline. Chloé continued to hold him, her heart breaking for him all the while, until his breathing evened out and she was sure he was asleep. She untangled herself from him, gently wiped the remaining tears from his face and slipped out of the bed, adjusting the covers as she did so, to make sure Jean-Jacques would be comfortable. She tread softly over to the window to look out over her domain.

She felt terrible that she couldn't muster up any lasting rage towards Jean-Jacques' family for how they had treated their son. They were still her people and she had failed them by not stopping the beast incident before it got so far out of hand, as such she didn't have the right to pass judgement on them. They still had a right to live, out in the world that she should never have touched. Even if that was worse for Jean-Jacques.

It was easy to ignore the toll she had taken on him and pretend they were something like a family, but the cracks would keep showing no matter how she tried to cover them up. He was lonely and unhappy and she wasn't enough for him try as she might to pretend otherwise.

Abruptly, all the hair on the back of her neck stood on end as a horrible sensation, like a million ants crawling all over her back, shattered her deliberation. The air shifted and dark, warping shadows wrapped themselves around her shoulders.

"Hello, Chloé," it whispered into her ear.

She looked at the bizarre, nightmarish face from the corner of her eye. "You're as bad as August, appearing with no warning and coming to distract me. Do try to be quiet, I don't want to wake Jean-Jacques."

"Such a cold greeting!" She giggled.

"I'm sorry to tell you there's still a long time before I can even think about taking revenge on Gévaudan. If you've come for that you're going to be disappointed."

"That's not why I'm here." She rested her head on Chloé's shoulder. "I came because I missed my good friend Chloé and wanted to see her."

Chloé resisted the urge to scowl, the creature had always been clingy, but this was beyond irritating. Even so, if it liked her she could use that to her advantage. The more it trusted her the easier her revenge would be.

"Well, dear," Chloé reached out to hold one of the hands hanging around her chest, "I'm happy to see you as well. Were you lonely?"

"I have lots of friends, I'm never lonely. Not like you."

Chloé grit her teeth. "I have you and Jean-Jacques. That is enough."

"That boy really loves you, take good care of him, Chloé."

"I intend to. So you needn't concern yourself with him."

"Is that protectiveness or possessiveness I wonder?" Her girlish laughter made Chloé's eye twitch. "I love that about you, Chloé. So strong."

"It's you I have to thank for this strength. My revenge wouldn't be possible without you, and it's just as much for Jean-Jacques as it is for me."

"You two are so much fun." The shadow's hands pulled themselves away from Chloé. "I'll be checking in again. It's boring if I have to be quiet and not wake the boy up."

Then she was gone. Chloé clicked her tongue, what a waste of time.