A Rose Maret: A Short Story

It was the worst storms Rose Maret had ever encountered when her travels lead her to the city of Paris. Trees had fallen to the ground like little toys knocked off balance by their master, and she'd seen many struggling travelers too battered by the wind and water to go on. When she had finally arrived she had been forced to stand outside the gates for over an hour as the guards reviewed her name and appearance before letting her into the city. Shivering fervently she hurried through the large gates toward the station where two guards were stationed clearly taking advantage of the fact that she was so wet her clothes were almost glued to her body revealing more of her body than she wished.

"What are you looking at?" she hissed, hurriedly pulling off her coat, squeezing most of the water out of it, and then throwing back over her shoulders covering her body.

The guards looked annoyed but didn't bother saying anything else as she walked past their station to the abandoned streets of Paris. The cathedral of Notre Dame
The gypsy looked up at her, his eyebrows raised. Embarrassed Rose looked at the floor suddenly finding it very interesting. She could see a smile forming on the gypsy's face as he continued.

'Now here is a riddle to guess if you can sing the bells of Notre Dame...'

Rose glanced out one of the small windows to see Notre Dame towering over the other buildings, its grand splendor still astounded her.

'Who is the monster and who is the man?'

She then saw a group of soldiers in the distance, they were all on foot with one man on a horse looming over them.

'Sing the bells, bells, bells, bells...'

Rose turned to see the gypsy who was supposed to be on watch gazing at the gypsy dancing on a little stage with a goat, she looked gorgeous with unruly raven black hair and emerald green