She was the only girl in school. Extremely quiet, and supremely bizarre in many ways. She did not have friends, but she really didn't need them. Boys were usually the only ones to go to school, she didn't belong. Her place was in the home. She was put into a class, quickly introduced, and sat down next to a boy in a blue coat expected never to speak again for the whole year. The eyes were frozen on her, she knew what was expected of her, but she refused to comply. So she did not remain silent. When she spoke she was sharp as a blade, and articulate in such a charming way; it was thrilling.

The reason she was there was because her parents were wealthy, and were never around to tell her what to do. They were always gone, attending event after event in Paris, leaving her in their house alone to toil away her time. She had once been engaged in watercolor painting, and equestrian sport, but she grew bored. Eventually she decided that education would be her conquest, she would learn everything she possibly could. She had already read all of her parents books, and became bored with that too.

She didn't fail to impress the boy who she had come to sit beside. He was picky about his company, and frankly somewhat socially inept. He was from a harsh home where much of the pressure of his widowed mother was placed directly upon his shoulders. He had a fascination with odd things, anything strange or out of the ordinary he was curious about. He found her intriguing. It even managed to distract him all through lecture. He was simply completely lost in his thoughts; his head filling up with questions: why was she here? What does she know? What does she want to know? What are her parents like? Is she still soft and gentle like a woman? The thoughts kept reeling on like that, until he realized he didn't know what was going on around him.

Before he could reestablish his bearings though, class was over, and the one he wondered about for so long was gathering her things to leave. He jumped up, and grabbed her books from the table, hugging them to his chest under his long arm. "I'll carry these." He quickly spat out.

She stared at him, unsure what to make of him. She wasn't sure what his intentions were, if he was genuinely attempting to be kind, or if he was going to be rude and cruel, which she expected to be the case anyway.

He could see on her face that she was suspicious of him. It was the crinckling of the skin between her dark brows that gave her away. He had to say something. He thought hard for anything at all that he could say. He cleared his throat, "Can I walk you home?" He asked, pitifully. If anyone else had been there he would have been mocked for sure.

Her face relaxed, and she knew now that he wasn't out for blood. "That would be fine." She said, and gathered the rest of her things, carrying them in a bag over her shoulder.

His chest untightened as he followed her out, the unfortunate one to now have to carry twice as many books along with him. It was well worth it though, to him.

They walked slowly down the paths through town, silent; a cold and clammy walk together, as no one could think of anything to say. "Not many girls go to school you know." He stammered. She wasn't sure how to take it, so she just smiled, leading him to elaborate more. He silenced himself for a moment, a stalemate waiting for her to reply. Though the walk was wasting away, and he didn't know if she lived near by or not. If he was going to figure out anything about her, he would have to say somthing. "It's not a bad thing, I find it quite respectable. I've always wondered if they are ever right at all."

"Who?" She asked quietly.

He glanced to her from the side of his vision. "Society. They always act like woman are so entirely different from us, as if they can't learn, can't think. I don't think they have it right, but all the same, I don't know how you would think, I don't know anything. No one does, but I want to know." He said in a quietly smouldering intensity.

She paused for a moment, "Do you?" She asked, trying to maintain her suspicion.

He looked to her, shoving his hands in his coat pockets, "I do." He said simply.

It was her turn now, "Well that's an unpopular opinion. You won't find many women who would take you seriously, they might think of it as trickery."

He stopped walking for a moment and fixed his gaze upon her face, "Well you don't, do you?"

She paused, and stared off past him, her mouth slightly ajar. She thought about it and looked back at him. He had the most intense blue eyes she'd ever seen, they bordered on white really. Like light blue irradiated with an even lighter blue. Uncertainty tangled itself in her face. "No. I think you're quite serious." She said as though she really didn't want anyone to hear her.

He smiled softly and turned to continue walking, "You act as if you don't want to be acknowledged, as if you don't want to be noticed. But I don't think that makes any sense, why would you be in school then?" He asked, trying to coax her to relax, or to make her even more uncomfortable.

She sighed and walked along with him, softly bumping shoulders. "I mean, I don't really care to be noticed. I want to learn. I don't want to be a servant to any man, I just want to be left alone. I just want to do what I want to do." She said, still apprehensive about the words she had kept locked in her mind for so long. She could tell he wouldn't chastise her for her thoughts, but anyone else would, she wasn't supposed to have thoughts.

His eyes locked onto the side of her face, "That's better, isn't it?" He said in an encouraging tone. "I like a strong willed woman, you are a rare kind you know. But this world is so anxious to beat you down. Can I suggest we make a deal?"

She raised an eye brow like now was when the conversation would get seedy. "What's that?" She asked.

"I'll protect you from those people, and everything they bring with them, if only you let me know you." He said, "I want to know how you feel, how you think, what you see, what it all means. And I'm not asking for an explanation, I'm asking to really know." He said.

"Wouldn't it defeat the whole purpose of being my own person if you were standing over my shoulder protecting me all the time? Shouldn't I fight my own battles?" She asked in a cold way.

"No, by all means, you must be your own person, fight your own battles, but allow me to come and fight beside you. I will never be your master, I will be your protector." He said, with a voice that almost showed tenderness, almost showed a weakness that she had never seen a man portray before.

It was much too good to be true, she thought he must have wanted something more from her than only to know her. In spite of that thought, she decided to try him, and make certain he was serious. "So then, protecting me, what do you believe would be nessesary? What battles will we come to fight?"

"You must speak your mind, always. If someone thinks it rightful to belittle you for that, we will argue otherwise. If someone is to ever lay their hands on you, I will drag them through the mud myself. No one will ever treat you as if you're any less than me." He explained with a sense of excitement singing like a bird in his voice. It was almost as if he had just been waiting around for years for someone like her to come along. She thought he was strange, but it wasn't as if a normal person would come up with such an idea.

"And if I can't stand you?" She asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows, testing his patience.

He smiled, as though he already knew, "Then you must always say so."

She recoiled a bit, thinking more deeply on it. "Okay. But don't ever change yourself to comply to me." She said, "We will fight about it like Tasmanian devils. That's just the way it must be."

He smiled breathlessly, to him, she was practically a dream. He had nothing in his head that he could say. They stopped in front of a large ornate house, windows dark on the inside. She slipped her books out from under his arm as his eyes traced over the house, sitting elegantly on the edge of town. He lived on a farm, in a small plain house with many siblings. Just walking up to his house one could see signs of life nearly bursting through the windows.

She hugged her books to her chest, and waited for his eyes to find her again. When they did, they were full of question. "You live here?" She nodded her head, "Do you live alone?" He asked.

"Sometimes." She said, "My mother and father are never really around, and I don't have any siblings."

"Isn't it lonesome though?" He asked.

She stopped and looked at him strangely, as if he was invading her personal space. She of course thought he was asking for selfish reasons. She couldn't lie on the matter though, sometimes it could be lonely. There were times in which she just wished her mother would be there, and that her father would say something; anything. "It does." She said in a near whisper.

He shuffled anxiously, and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. "Sorry, do you want me to go? I can if you want, but if not, maybe I can help you catch up with the school work." He said.

She could sort of tell he wasn't going to push her into anything she didn't want. He was bold in theory, but in practice he was a frightened child. He probably just didn't want her to hate him for making the wrong move. She couldn't be mad at him for that, so she decided to be kind to him. "You know, I am having trouble with the latin." She said in a shy way, she didn't want to lead him the wrong way, but she didn't want to go sit in that empty house either. As far as she knew, that was how friendships were born.

He followed her into the grand house, which had plumbing as well as running water. It did not yet have electricity, but that was beside the point. Her father had a study which she had obviously torn up like a frustrated cur. Books were lying all over the floor, opened, half read. It was obvious that there were some nights that she slept in there, by the pile of crumpled blankets huddled on the arm chair; and a candle burnt down to a stub on the shelf. "Sorry it's such a mess in here. I hardly use the other rooms, and my parents took all the maids with them to their house in Paris. It's been getting dark earlier, hasn't it?" She said softly, lighting the oil lamps around the room.

"They have a house in Paris?" He asked, looking from the spines of books still shelved, back to her.

"Yes, they practically live there." She replied, draping a blanket over her shoulders.

"Why don't you go with them?" He asked, "I've been trying to run off to Paris for a while."

She looked at him like he was crazy, "Paris is no good for me. All the new fashions I would have to keep up with, all the cruel men that would court me. All the same, I don't get along well with my parents. At least here I can be who I want, and appear to go along with the charade. Paris just isn't for me." She sat down in the arm chair and rubbed her arms, "Do you know how to light a fire?" She asked.

He smiled and laughed a bit, and beckoned her over, "I'll make a fire if you let me teach you how. I don't want you to freeze all winter." He said, stooping down by the fireplace.

She walked over and dropped down to her knees beside him, her dress puffing out around her, a heap of fine silks and chiffon. Her amber eyes watched him closely as he arranged the wood so the fire could get enough air as it burnt, but she was not watching him build the fire, she was watching him. "How is it that you're so kind to me?" She asked, "You must know I'm suspicious of you."

He glanced up at her with only his eyes, "I know." He said simply.

She smiled warmly, and glanced down to his working hands and then back up at his face, "Why do you want to take me under your guidance?" She asked.

He stopped, and looked at her for a moment. "Because you're smart. Dangerously smart. Without the right direction you could be put in an asylum. That doesn't fix the problem, that just feeds it, like a fire." He said, and sparked the flint on some rough stone, catching fire to a small pile of kindling. He put it under the pile of wood, and hunched forward and blew on it, letting the flame grow until it caught the smaller logs.

She watched him with disappointment heavy in her mind. She didn't exactly want to find a mate in him, but she did want a friend. She didn't get along with other girls, and the boys only wanted one thing. "Yes, but does it have to be so cold though?" She asked.

He looked up at her for a moment and then back at the fire. He sighed and lifted his gaze once more. "No," he said, and pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders again, looking down to the fire. His eyes slipped back up to her face, "I don't want to scare you off."

She felt warm from this, and smiled softly. Trying to keep it from showing. "Well that's kind of you. I needn't be suspicious of you then, do I?" She said, avoiding his eyes.

"No." He said, and her eyes slipped into his, as though they fit perfectly together.

"Alright then." She said, "I won't be." She warmed her hands near the fire.

He stared at her for a moment, smiling like he'd just got a stray cat to warm up to him. Now that she trusted him, he could get to know her. And they would be friends, good friends, perhaps more. She was beautiful. Dressed so elegantly, and yet so smart. To look at her walking down the street one wouldn't think she looked different from any other girl, aside from her remarkable beauty. Her hair was a rich dark brown, but her skin was pale and smooth. Her eyes looked like drops of amber.

She caught him looking at her, and coyly laughed, placing her hand delicately over her mouth. "What are you thinking about?"

He thought for a moment, trying to gather false thoughts to tell her. "Oh just how we're going to portray this to others. We must be tactful." He explained.

"We are friends shouldn't we act as such?" She asked, "What more is there to do?"

He nodded, "But they will accuse me of more you know."

"Who cares for it? Let them accuse you of what they wish. It will not make a difference, will it?" She said, sitting cross legged under the folds of her dress. He looked at her slightly caught off guard. "Well it wouldn't bother you would it? I bet it would only be because they're jealous."

"I suppose you are right. Well I wouldn't mind it if you wouldnt." He said, vulnerable to the fact that he hadn't really had those thoughts in the first place.

She smiled, "I'm glad. However we must still remain only friends. Perhaps at some point they will just know you're kindly looking after me."

His heart dropped at the words only friends. He wondered how he could make it better. Win her warmth, her admiration. "We must allow for flexibility." He said to her, "We cannot very well be friends when we're out from our parents roof." He said.

To which she giggled, "I suppose you're right, I cannot leave my family until I marry... if I didn't know better, I would guess you're flirting with me." She smiled in her shyness.

His cheeks turned red and he looked away, "No I wasn't!" He said defensivly.

She laughed at him, "Then how would it feel to see me married off to some other?" She asked.

He looked down, "I would be sad, because then I couldn't protect you. No man would let his wife have someone like me around." He said.

She smiled at him, he was a quick thinker. She liked that in him. "Very well." She smiled warmly.

They worked on Latin only for a little while before he began to look at the window. The grandfather clock began to chime in the other room. It chimed 8 times and he began to look worried. "I didn't know it was 8 o'clock, I have to go now. My mother will be mad." He said, begining to gather up his things.

She looked at him concerned, "Is there anything I could do? Maybe I could talk to her." She said.

He stood up as did she, and smiled, "No she would kill me if she learned I was with a girl so late, alone at that. Her mind jumps readily to filth. It'll be fine. I promise." He said and then placed another log in the fire, "Don't forget to feed the fire. I don't want you to catch your death in here." He said sweetly, and pressed his cheek to hers.

She walked him to the front door and bid him farewell. Just before leaving he turned to her once more, "May I walk you to school tomorrow?" He asked, "I don't want you to have to walk alone." But it was more that he wanted to spend every possible second with her that he could.

"Of course." She said, and then closed the door and went to sleep in the study by the fire he made her.