Gaetan emerged from his clothes: first a hand, then a head, and then all at once. Someone in the room gasped. The rest were thinking their own private thoughts as Noel took a step forward. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” Gaetan confirmed as he finished getting dressed. After weeks of compulsory muteness, he didn’t quite startle at the sound of his own voice. As soon as his stiff fingers finished arranging his cufflinks, he thanked Noel with an emphatic hug. He quickly let go, however, when he remembered their audience.

Facing the room full of people, he was at a complete loss.

After a beat of silence, Madelaine supplied her own script. “Monster!” she shrieked, struggling to break free of Alcide’s grasp, “Loup-garou! Werewolf! Man-eater!” Each proclamation dripped with shrill and genuine contempt.

“You’re the monster!” Noel quickly retorted, “You tried to kill both of us!”

Between Madelaine and Gaetan, only one had a pair of sharp scissors in their hands, and only one had recently aimed a gun. For once, the pretty young madame’s words were not enough to convince the others in the room.

“Lock her up and send for the Surety,” Count Frontenac directed Alcide, “We’ll sort the rest out later.”

Noel stayed with Alcide only long enough to see Madelaine properly secured, then returned to Gaetan’s side, where the other had already begun to explain his circumstances to the Count. The rest of the day was spent sorting out the events of the morning, and all the other events that had led up to it.

Gaetan explained his circumstances as best he could, finding to his consternation that his time rehearsing alone in the forest had not any better prepared him for the challenge. “No,” he told Alcide as they all conferenced in the parlour, “I assure you, if I had known he was the Devil at the time, I would not have even tried to take back my father’s shipping business.”

“But surely” Alcide pressed, “you’re more travelled than any of us, and have seen what the Devil looks like in frescoes and such. Couldn’t you recognize him?”

Gaetan saw that everyone except Noel, who was surreptitiously inspecting the ceiling details, was waiting for an answer. He sighed and said, “With all due respect, if you avoided everyone who looked like a biblical painting, wouldn’t you have to avoid members of your own family, too?”

The frivolous questions ended thereafter.

For Noel’s part, his family was finally ready to hear his own explanation once they had satisfied their curiosity over Gaetan. Alcide looked properly contrite once he realized the degree to which he had misunderstood his own brother.

“I’m sorry,” he said when Noel was finished talking, “I never could have guessed at the truth.”

“You didn’t have to guess; I was trying to tell you,” Noel said tersely. Now that Gaetan was back in human form, however, Noel wasn’t in the mood to hold grudges. He sighed and added, “Just take me seriously next time, alright?”

“Alright,” Alcide agreed, conceding that he had indeed acted disrespectfully.

The two brothers reconciled, but the day was hardly over. The Surety had arrived while Gaetan was talking and had been conducting their own interview of Madelaine. Once that was done and she was taken away, Gaetan arranged a quick lunch, and the priestess was called to sort out his status.

That afternoon, Noel’s parents left to go deal with the courthouse, and the priestess arrived at the St Germain estate. Gaetan was all business as soon as she arrived. Noel didn’t know what the priestess and Gaetan talked about behind closed doors, but sometime later, he was called over to join them.

The priestess and Gaetan were in his study, a room Noel had never entered before. The smell of ink hit him at once, and he couldn’t help but notice the floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with ledgers, atlases, and other such materials. Gaetan was sitting in front of a large window, looking as natural as if he’d never left, and the priestess was waiting quietly across from them. Although Noel had technically seen her just yesterday, it felt like much more time had passed.

When Gaetan saw Noel enter, he stood up and pulled a chair over to his side, indicating for the other to join him. Noel thanked him and sat down. He looked nervously at the priestess and asked, “Is everything alright?”

The priestess composed herself, as if thinking carefully about what to say next. Finally, she said, “Mr St Germain has been explaining the situation to me. I have to say, it’s truly unprecedented. As to how the Devil’s curse can be rectified, I’ll have to consult my betters. It’s the actions of the Vicomtesse that I want to discuss with you now.”

Noel glanced briefly at Gaetan, and found that Gaetan was also looking at him. He quickly turned back and asked the priestess to elabourate. The priestess’s eyes shifted back and forth between the two of them several times before she spoke again.

“It is not impossible to amend Mr St Germain’s records to reflect his status as currently among the living,” she said, “Unfortunately, his assets were transferred to the Vicomtesse upon his official death.”

Another quick glance at Gaetan confirmed that he must have been informed of this before Noel arrived. His hand rested on the arm of his chair in a state of practiced relaxation, his long fingers bent at a natural angle, and his palm flat against the wood.

“And if it had only been that,” the priestess continued, “then Mr St Germain would naturally have his assets restored to his name as soon as his records were amended.”

Gaetan’s fingers flexed slightly at the words, and he adjusted his posture in his seat. Noel did likewise, a little afraid of what the priestess would say next.

“However, the Vicomtesse did not remain married to Mr St Germain.”

“Can’t my marriage be annulled?” Noel interjected. He certainly would rather it had never happened.

The priestess shook her head. “Annulling one marriage can’t reinstate the other; it would only guarantee that the estate passes into the hands of her family.”

There was a beat of silence as her words sunk in. Noel watched the hand on armrest tense and couldn’t help feeling guilty. If he hadn’t been preoccupied with the wrong things, then maybe he could have helped Gaetan sooner.

The priestess addressed Noel directly, “As of right now, Vicomte, it is you who stands to inherit Mr St Germain’s assets when the Vicomtesse is tried and her sentence carried out.”

“Me?”

Gaetan turned to look at him, and Noel blushed and angled his face away. He felt like a thief, despite the fact that he hadn’t been the one who did the stealing. When he looked up again, the priestess was also watching him, a considered gaze on her face.

“So how do we fix it then?” Gaetan finally asked.

“There is, in fact, a simple solution… although it may not be practical,” the priestess clasped her hands and spoke very deliberately. “As this case illustrates, marriage is by far the easiest way to move assets between families. Therefore, the Vicomte can return Mr St Germain’s estate directly by this method.”

The more the priestess spoke, the more tense Gaetan got. By the time she finished talking, he seemed about ready to spring up out of his seat. Noel quickly stopped him with a touch to the back of his hand. “I agree,” he said before the other could speak.

“You—” Gaetan started.

Noel didn’t dare look at his reaction, but his surprise was conveyed well enough through his posture.

“Can you give us a minute?” Gaetan suddenly asked, grabbing Noel’s hand and rising from his seat. Without waiting for a response from the priestess, he quickly dragged the other into the hallway and shut the door on her.

As soon as they were alone, Gaetan asked, “Why did you say yes? Are you really okay with this?” There was a sharp edge to the question.

Noel couldn’t tell if the sharpness came from concern or frustration. He removed his hand from Gaetan’s grasp and crossed his arms defensively, still not daring to look him in the eye. “Let’s just fix it like this. If you don’t agree, you’ll be penniless.”

Gaetan huffed softly. It was a familiar sound. When Noel refused to elabourate further, he sandwiched his cheeks between his hands and forced eye contact. “We’re talking about marriage,” he clarified, “once you get married to me, there will never be a proper Vicomtesse in your future. Are you sure you want that?”

Noel couldn’t keep his composure. His face got hotter and hotter, and Gaetan’s palms felt cool in comparison. He was turning red, and his hazy reflection in the other’s eyes made him very aware of how apparent it was. He looked to the side as if there was something very interesting in the wallpaper and mumbled, “It’s not like I wanted to marry a woman anyway.”

Gaetan’s heart skipped a beat. Memories surfaced in his mind like bubbles in champagne, and he seemed to see Noel’s face over and over again against all kinds of backdrops. Although he had returned to his human self, he found that Noel still seemed more vibrant and colourful than the world around him.

But the man still seemed incapable of having a proper conversation. “Noel?” Gaetan asked, trying to bring the other’s gaze back onto himself. “Noel!”

Noel’s eyes remained glued on the wallpaper; the only sign he was listening at all was the deepening colour of his cheeks. Since the other wasn’t speaking, Gaetan tried another approach. He leaned down and kissed him.

The feeling was familiar and strange, soft and hot. He ran his tongue across the other’s lips and they parted easily. Gaetan deepened the kiss, pressing himself into Noel until he heard the other gasp. He chased the air and didn’t let up until he felt a push on his chest. When he drew back, Noel was panting, his eyes and lips moist, appearing scintillating and radiant. Gaetan let go of his face and swallowed the urge to kiss him again. He wasn’t a beast anymore, after all. Instead he searched Noel’s expression for any sign of rejection.

Noel put his head down to hide from Gaetan’s scrutiny. The feeling really wasn’t bearable. His arms were still outstretched, holding space between them. In the end, instead of letting go, he grabbed onto Gaetan’s shirt, stealing fabric and letting it ball up in his fists until his knuckles indented into the soft skin beneath. He slowly closed the distance until there was no light between them, and the tip of his shoe landed between Gaetan’s feet.

“Let’s just get married, okay?” he asked.

Noel spoke so quietly that Gaetan wouldn’t have heard him if they weren’t standing so close. He wrapped his arms around the man’s shoulders. “Okay,” he said. A moment later, they separated, and Gaetan led Noel by the hand back into the study.