There were few times in her life that Gothel actually felt terrible about something. Behind her usual veil of sarcasm and drama really was a woman with emotions, but she chose to hide them sometimes, especially the guilt. This was one of the few times she would own up to that emotion and acknowledge its presence.
It had been over a month since Valentine’s Day, and Gothel knew the exact occasion of what had taken the usual dramatic spring out of her step. She knew Gaston had been left without someone that day despite her accepting his invitation, and it really made her feel terrible. She had no idea why. Perhaps it was the fact that he had painstakingly assured he could write his invitation to her? Or perhaps it was something else Gothel couldn’t place her finger on at the current moment. Regardless, she felt a need to apologize to the man, and that was something she would have to do in person. Letters wouldn’t solve this.
Packing a few things for her small journey, Gothel threw the green cloak she had worn so often in her life over her shoulders and exited the tower, making sure to remain unseen. It was difficult when kingdoms were out to arrest you, but the raven-haired woman made the best of it. Soon she had left Corona and made her way to the kingdom where she knew Gaston resided. With a few questions she found his house.
Basket over her right arm, she hesitated at the door before gently letting down her hood and knocking with her left hand. Three knocks, the standard issue for any guest at a house. Now she only had to hope he was home and would answer the door without being offended by her being there.
Gaston was cleaning his gun in preparation for a hunting trip when he heard three polite knocks at his door. He jerked up surprisedly, accidentally spilling some of the grease he was using onto his hands. He cursed, wiped his hands on a rag, then carefully set the gun down on his chair and went to answer the door. He opened it to find Gothel.
“Bonjour, Gothel,” he said a tad surprisedly, standing aside and holding the door to let the woman in. “What brings you here?” After she came in, the door slammed shut as Gaston let go.
Gothel gave him a small smile as the door was open and she was lead inside. She kept her cloak on for the moment, one hand drifting to the clasp as she contemplated how best to form her sentence at first. ”Bonjour, Gaston.” She didn’t flinch as the door slammed shut, but a hint of a wince crossed her features at the sound. That aside, she refocused her thoughts on answering his question.
The woman turned to him with a sincere apology written in her eyes, clasping her hands in front of her as she furrowed her eyebrows. ”I’ve come to make a formal apology,” she said, the words sounding foreign to herself since the concept was one she hadn’t often thought of, “I know you came to get me for Valentine’s Day, and I was suddenly indisposed. I am sorry. I should have let you know or have better been there to hold up my end of the bargain we had. Can you forgive me?”
Gaston just stood there for a few moments, not sure how to reply. Finally, he managed a muttered, “It’s fine, Gothel,” as he sat back down in his chair. “I never was much for Jour de Saint Valentin anyways.”
Gothel remained standing, nodding as Gaston replied to the sentence she had managed to get out. She was glad her apology had been accepted, but she knew there was more to it if the small hole of trust were to be mended. For now, that was one step to getting the entire load off her mind.
“Is there any way I could make it up to you?” she asked as she fiddled with her hands at her waist. She wasn’t sure why she felt so utterly terrible about this, but she knew there had to be something she could do to fix the feeling. Perhaps if he wasn’t much for Valentine’s Day they could figure out something else with a little less romance involved with it. A little idle chatting never hurt anyone, now did it?
Gaston shook his head again. “It’s fine, Gothel,” he repeated. He searched his brain for something to say, something to break the awkward silence that had once more fallen. Why did women have to be so emotional like this?
Gothel crossed her arms and leaned against his wall with a chuckle. ”That doesn’t answer my question, Gaston, dear,” she insisted. Oh, he definitely wasn’t used to talking to women. That much was obvious, and as weird as it sounded Gothel found it a little endearing. It was certainly an area she could help him with, assuming he would work with her. For now she had to make up her simple mistake, but she was in no rush. Being away from Corona for a little fresh air was good, after all. Some time to relax and not worrying about guards coming after her.
Gaston fixed Gothel with one of his why-are-you-making-this-so-difficult-dang-you looks, then shook his head for the third time. “You don’t need to do anything,” he said. “Frankly I wasn’t expecting you to make the trip here at all.”
Gothel returned his look with crossed arms, wondering the exact same thing his expression was telling her. ”Well, I’m not going to leave until I’ve done something for you. Dinner, perhaps?”
She waved the second part of his statement away, “In person correspondence is so much faster than letters, Gaston, dear. Besides, I needed to get out of the tower for a few days. It was getting a bit stuffy.”
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