It was the the twentieth of October as Sybill Fauchelevent and Cosette Fauchelevent knelt in the pews at the Notre-Dame Cathedral for the first time since they had arrived in Paris. Both of the girls had felt ashamed that they had neglected their religious practices in such a way. They knew the cause of this avoidance. It was because of their engagement in practices that the priest at confessional would look on as unholy considering how ever since they arrived in Paris the two girls had been almost exclusively in the company of men. It was hardly a customary practice by any means. Cosette fully repented her sinful stolen kiss or two with Marius out of wedlock while Sybill stayed silent on hers with Enjolras. The latter felt no remorse and therefore sought no repentance.
The great cathedral showed far off in the distance as the pair travelled back across the Seine towards the center of Saint-Michele. It was now well past noontide, and Cosette was anxious to meet with Marius. It had been arranged that after church Cosette and Marius would meet in Madame Dubois's bakery while Sybill pretended to play the part of chaperone.
In reality, Sybill hoped to meet with Courfeyrac. She had not seen the great romancer much in the past while since he swore his heart was captured by Galya. Sybill herself could not help but feel a tinge of envy at her charming companion changing care so quickly after offering courtship to her.
There was a sort of bitterness in Sybill's demeanor of late that Cosette noticed instantly. The blonde-haired girl never brought it to the attention of her sister, but she knew that something was clearly causing her distress. Sybill had gone so far as to refuse walking with Courfeyrac to the Café Musain on more than one occasion.
Thorns had appeared so suddenly in the flower garden heart of the girl with the green eyes. Since Enjolras had banished her from the Café a fortnight before, she refused to even go near the place. Though she did not wish to admit it, his breaking off their relationship in such a public manner had set her on a distraught path. The little nightingale now lived in a cage with the bars made of words binding her to stay in her own so-called silly place.
"Come, Sybill!" called Cosette cheerily a few paces ahead which brought Sybill from her thoughts about a certain blonde-haired man. "I fear we will never reach the bakery at this speed."
"Dearest," sighed Sybill as she reached her sister. "You seem so overly taken by the man that I fear for your judgement. You do realize that he is a revolutionary who will fight?"
"Yes," nodded Cosette, "and I will fight by his side."
Sybill looked at her sister in utter shock as she stopped. "What do you mean?" she mustered after a moment.
"I will fight by my love's side," reiterated Cosette. "I am in completelove with him, and I will gladly fight alongside him for his beliefs."
"But what of your own?" Sybill questioned. "Cosette, you know not how to even fire a weapon. If you fought alongside him, you would die. Worse yet, you would become for a martyr for a cause that you are ignorant about."
"There is more than one way to fight," countered Cosette. "And I will accept your silence as an apology for claiming me to be ignorant for I know more than you think, dearest." Sybill gave her a questioning look, but neither girl spoke more.
All was silent. Sybill was filled with an internal intensity spurned by Cosette's desire to fight and die alongside a man she hardly knew. There was no conceivable way that her sister could act so rashly! Sybill could not even consider how it was possible that Cosette would behave so immaturely. There was no reason. She had no reason herself to fight besides her love for Marius. It angered Sybill though she could not fathom why.
Sybill was silenced until the pair reached the bakery. Cosette quickly filed inside while Sybill was reluctant to step her foot inside the place. With great trepidation, she opened the door to the bakery and followed in search of her sister.
Immediately, Sybill espied Cosette reaching Marius at a table with a pastry and two glasses filled with water. The scene was so picturesque that had she been a painter Sybill would have wanted to forever enshrine the love she saw between the pair. She couldn't help but take notice of everything about Marius. This man would be the reason for her sister assisting in a rebellion. This would be treason; an act of terrorism. Cosette would willingly dare to upset the balance of the government due to the love she bore this man. Sybill mentally scoffed at the immature nature, knowing that she would never feel such a way. However, her heart fluttered at the thought of feeling such a strong and all-encompassing passion for anyone.
It was not long before a familiar old woman noticed the young lady alone at a table with only a pad of paper for companionship. The old eyes of Madame DuBois bore into Sybill Fauchelevent, and she remembered at once the young girl who had been a near apprentice here. True, years had aged her, and Nadie Proulx had grown into a sensible woman. Madame DuBois could not help but notice the flickers of the past on the girl's person.
Before long, Sybill's attention turned to the old woman behind the wooden bar. Their eyes met with a silent understanding. No words were spoken between the two, but a full conversation transpired. Sybill gave a small smile to reassure the old woman while Madame DuBois clutched a hand to her breast. "Dear Nadie," she whispered, "dear Nadie, I cannot bear to think it."
Sybill noticed the muttering of the old woman and slowly rose from her seat to greet her. "Dear friend, I am most apologetic for our never having a moment alone together."
Madame DuBois quickly shook her head. "Don't you think it! Don't. We have not needed it. I cannot play innocent any longer. You do not wish to speak to me alone, and I understand in full."
"No, never!" declared Sybill, taken aback. "I could never bear to avoid you."
"You... you," Madame DuBois frowned. "I have never stopped thinking of you from the day you left. He was enraged at once." Both women fell silent. "Oh, Nadie, if I had known. You must believe me in honest. If ever I had known or grown suspicious, I would have-"
"No, need," Sybill replied firmly. "There is no need for a discussion of the past."
"There is," Madame DuBois rebutted. "There is a need. Nothing can change or progress without an analysis of what has transpired. I must beg of you to forgive the part I played in your misery. I know in heaven the angels will sing tales of the sorrow of Nadine Proulx who suffered so great at the hands of supposed friends."
"I fear the angels will not sing for me," Sybill began. "For there is nothing to tell. I suffered at the hands of a man alike many women who came before me, and alike many women who shall follow. The only one who knows this tale is yourself and your departed husband." Madame DuBois flinched at the word. "There is no true end of innocence or childhood. My blossoming was different from others and perhaps faster than most, but I understand, dear friend, I understand that you could not have bore witness to such atrocities as this man committed against me...and you." Sybill Fauchelevent took the old lady's hands. "I have changed my name. My face has changed. Every resemblance of the past has faded from my person, and I believe that it is best to allow the history to die as well. Nadine Proulx was a child who suffered more than any free, grown person should bear. I do not want to hear any whimpering henceforth. Sybill Fauchelevent is a woman near grown who was born of kindness and faith. I know of the darkness, but I now bask in the sun."
"You are too kind and too forgiving," Madame DuBois slowly remarked.
"I have never forgiven," Sybill quickly quipped. "And I never will I suspect. That is why the angels will never sing of me. I am not as innocent as all that may seem. Till my dying breath, I will curse his name and my own father's. There is no man Nadie Proulx could trust, but Sybill Fauchelevent has adapted and been shown all the respect and care."
Madame DuBois was silent for a moment before remarking. "You are in every form unstoppable."
Sybill laughed at the comment. "Dear me, I should not think so."
Madame DuBois shook her head. "No, no, you are. You are quite the fearsome sight to behold. You were always troublesome yet mature. You have a strong, sensible nature."
"Thank you," smiled Sybill suddenly shy.
"Sensibleness can carry you far," remarked Madame DuBois. "Although, I daresay, it might leave you blind to the sensibilities and perceptions of others."
Before either had time to say another utterance, the bell of the bakery door rang which drew the two to alertness. "Madame Dubois!" a familiar voice cheered. Sybill's head turned around to see Courfeyrac walking towards the pair. When their eyes met, he smiled. "Well, mademoiselle, I did not anticipate meeting you here though I must admit I am glad for it."
"I am glad for it too," smiled Sybill in response, and she even believed it. Her secret desire was well-met.
"I was near coming to find you," admitted Courfeyrac. "There is an occasion at the Café Musain this fine evening that I do wish you would attend with me, my dear lady."
Sybill frowned. "You of all others know that I will never be a welcome patron of the establishment. There is a lurking figure that seeks to stifle my every movement. To defy him this many times would be foolish."
Courfeyrac faked a gasp that earned him a queer look from Sybill. "This is indeed a most astonishing declaration, mademoiselle, for I was not aware that you were subject to the will of young men with dreadfully high opinions of themselves."
Madame DuBois laughed outright. "What? Mademoiselle Sybill Fauchelevent is afraid of a few school boys?"
Sybill rolled her eyes at the woman's words. "I am not!" she declared. "But this viper dare look to me as his prey. I cannot pretend to dismiss his words as much as I do. The dashing Sir Enjolras's pride has wounded mine beyond repair which I find myself not readily able to forgive."
"This is Enjolras's doing?" chimed Madame DuBois. Sybill nodded.
Immediately, Courfeyrac sighed. There was a flicker of an unknown emotion on his face. Sybill knew not of what to make of it. The man smiled at her. "Dearest, dearest, mademoiselle, in this world, the most pious man is given to temptation and must conduct himself to our earthly code." Sybill stared at Courfeyrac, anticipating an explanation for the strange, poetic utterance. "The marble man has emotion... Dare we play it?"
Sybill gazed at the man astonished. "What is your meaning, monsieur?"
The mischievous man offered an arm. "Dare to discover my meaning?"
The girl hesitated. Her attentions shifted towards a corner table with a particular man and woman. "My sister and her dear lover are seated thus, and I am to play the watcher."
Courfeyrac scoffed. "No."
Sybill laughed. "No?"
"No," the man shook his head with a smile. "After you helped me in failing at winning Galya's affections, I daresay I am allowed to tamper in your own romantic life for your betterment. Leave the birds alone. They will not notice anything amiss."
"I can watch the lovers," offered Madame DuBois. Sybill glared at the woman. "I seek only to help," the old woman smirked.
Courfeyrac grinned a charming smile although Sybill hesitated. The man sighed once more. "Mademoiselle, I swear to you that if he prove a challenging adversary for the likes of you then I will gallantly rebuff the man and bring you back. Are these terms suitable?"
Slowly, Sybill consented. "They are."
Courfeyrac smirked and offered his arm once more. "Then let us make haste."
Sybill took it with a smile, and Madame Dubois was left wondering whether there was something between Nadie and Enjolras or Sybill and Courfeyrac.
No, Madame thought, no, it is neither. Nadie, Sybill, she is all one. With the fire in her eyes and hell on her tongue, God be with any person that dares cross her. That one is a goddess of old reborn.