Months had passed since Esther had lost her child and her husband, the birthright to her long lineage. The continuation of the dynastic bloodline that was Le Rose Noir division of Les Assassins Silencieux. Two long months had passed without a word from her husband, she had however kept a close eye and surveilance on all of his actions and communication with his old team, The League of Shadows.
It was a rivalry born in blood and slaughter. The lives of thousands thrown carelessly to the side on both sides of the fence in order to regain the upper hand and control of the world through political and spiritual means. They had been rivals for years, and when Les Assassins Silencieux managed to take on France and the greater part of Western Europe all those years ago, The League of Shadows moved their base to the heart of the New Orleans bayous. Gambler had been the son of the League of Shadows, Esther the daughter of Les Assassins Silencieux. The marriage, some said, had been doomed from the start; but their love and commitment for one another was something that seemed at first impenetrable, evident and clear. Their love made him give up his history and settle for hers...and she in turn, set him out at the first possible thought of betrayal. She had had two long hard months to sit and think. Sit and brood, toying with all possible outcomes; trying to understand and realize all what went wrong in her marriage, in her life, and how she had changed. She had watched as a child her Uncle Joseph Cotillard warn her about the effects of great power; of how it came with great responsibility...and how she should never succumb to it and always keep her head above water. She, however, had made her bed.
The candles flickered in the darkness of the room creating shadows that danced along the wall of the Great Hall. The oblong mahogany table rested at the center of the round room and along its perimenter were tall chairs, deep crimson velvet seats. Here sat her allies in the battle against all that was considered good and true. Their loyalty was never in question or up for debate in her mind. She eyed them each carefully one by one. The meeting was adjourned. They knew their mission was to uncover the individuals responsible for the kidnapping of the heir to her throne, and to obtain those security codes once again.
Before every trip she had ever taken, Esther would line the cars along the outside of the mansion and make sure that her entourage would be close behind her as a means of protection. Before she left, she would sit down her counsel along the round table and tell them the news of recent events. They would prepare to leave at her side. However, this time, she did not speak a word of it to anyone.
In the darkness of the night she left. No guards, no weapons. Just a suitcase of some belongings to last her 3 days.
She drove for 2 days, stopping at hotels, using fake documents. It gave her time to think alone. For once, there was no private jet plane, no big to do; just Esther, the black V12 and the windy road ahead. Papers were not hard to fake, but her face was plastered everywhere. The dark sunglasses and silk hankerchief around her head were discrete enough disguises in that they did not attempt to hide the obvious. The best way to hide, was in plain view. She knew these roads and did not need a map. As she stopped at her final checkpoint she could see the towering steeple of the cistene chapel in the distance. Jean was so easy to find, and she knew exactly what he was up to. She drove to a nearby inn and checked in under a false name, set her bags down in the corner of the room and walked into the bathroom. After a cold shower, she put on her Sunday best and made her way to church. Climbing the ancient building steps she walked through the high wooden doors. She knelt on one knee and after doing the sign of the cross, she rose again. There he was, rosary beads wrapped between his fingers staring up at the figure of Jesus hanging crucified in mid air. Her eyes narrowed. Next to him, the knealt the Archbishop of Italy. This was a silent holy war being waged, and Esther had been born prepared. For years the League of Shadows and Les Assassins Silencieux had fought over the support of the Catholic Church, one of the most influential organizations in the world. And each time it came down to money. Having returned to his old roots, it was of no surprise to Esther that the King of Kings would try to buy his power once again.
As she watched the last two tourists leave the church she shut the door behind them and locked it.
"Why if it isn't Lucifer and his assisstant Beelzebub," ("Paradise Lost" John Milton).
The two men turned to face the door and she stood there. Her black pencil skirt hitting her knee, shiny black stilletos and a wide brimmed hat. She slowly removed the hat and placed it casually in the pew to her right. She removed her riding gloves and set them down by the hat. She watched as he slowly rose from his kneeling position and stared at her. For a moment she felt her adrenaline rush and her heart beat in her throat. If there was a thought in her mind that she no longer had feelings for him, this moment proved her wrong. She pushed away her emotions and a sly smile crossed her lips.
"I know what you are doing Jean,...Don't. I've come to talk to you. It's about our daughter..."