Part One
Chapter 1
I.
Gabriel Morningstar came to a upturned home. He frowned as he saw clothes in heaps, crates full of porcelain, glass and precious wood and Samandriel, his eldest child, carrying his toys in a similar box. Gabriel went through his memory, trying to remember anything about repainting of the walls or something else that could be the cause of such a swift movement of his family's belongings. He couldn't recall hearing about it from Dolly the evening before or from any of the servants that morning.
"Samandriel, darling, what is going on?" he asked the child with his amiable smile.
"Mummy says we're going away," Samandriel replied and set his toys dutifully onto the floor and rose to carry something else.
"Did mummy say why?"
"No," the boy shrugged and accepted a piece of candy his father offered him. Gabriel didn't hear his child's thanks. He walked to Dolly's drawing room with worry and alarm. It couldn't be painting or something ordinary then, Dolly would tell the kids so.
"Dolly, dear, what's all this for?" he called from the corridor when he saw his wife's figure in the room.
"We're leaving," Dolly turned around, stuffing a piece of clothing into a case hurriedly, "and by we, I mean me and the children. I won't stay in this damned house a day longer."
"I knew you hated it but this seems rather rushed," Gabriel gave her a bright smile as if he could soothe her with it.
"It's not rushed at all," Dolly frowned and returned to packing, "I warned you. I warned you that if you do it again, I'll leave you. I and all the money and things you get from my dowry."
"Oh," was all Gabriel managed to say. She found out about the governess. Or the dancer? Hopefully not the . Count, that would be worse. It didn't matter though, he had to act fast, he will have enough time to figure out which of his affairs his wife knew about.
"Dolly, I apologise," he exclaimed and fell onto his knees. "I apologize deeply, earnestly, humbly. Please, please forgive me. You know I am a weak man, I am not as strong and pure as you are, I cannot hope to parallel your kindness and forgiveness and your beautiful soul. Please, I beg you, beg the saint within you to forgive me for nobody else would."
"I can't take it anymore, Gabriel," Dolly said tiredly but she let her hands drop. She looked down at her husband, kneeling in humiliation as if he meant the things he had said about her. The worst thing was that he most probably did; that was typical - he thought her a kind saint, the embodiment of virtue, but it could never stop him from exploring every lap he saw. She knew all that - she had known it the last time she had found out about his affair - and she hated herself for listening to his flattery, for letting it get to her.
"I know I hurt you, darling, and I am so sorry, I will do anything to make it up to you, anything, please," Gabriel went on, wrapped his arms around Dolly's knees and buried his face in her long skirt.
"That's what you said last time," Dolly replied coldly, "and here we are again."
"Dolly please, you can't leave," Gabriel begged, "think of the children - how will they get by without a father?"
"I think my income can support us for a while."
"You can't live alone with children. People would eat you alive. You could never give them good education."
Dolly paused and considered it. She knew her husband was right, as much as it infuriated her. She could never hope to raise the children on her own, she couldn't remarry unless they got divorced and she knew Gabriel would never allow that.
"Please, I'll write to Lucifer to come and talk to you about it. You've always listened to him. Wait at least until then." Gabriel looked up and let go of Dolly's skirt. He could see he had won, at least for the moment anyway, in her eyes.
"I'll wait for Lucifer to come," Dolly promised and pulled away from Gabriel, "but not a day longer."
"Thank you," Gabriel sighed, "you're a saint."
Dolly looked away to hide the tears that welled up in her eyes. She always forgave her husband, no matter what he did. She felt weak and stupid for it, but she could never look into his eyes and refuse him. Despite all the pain he'd caused her and the fact the he obviously didn't love her, she couldn't rid herself of the infatuation she had been caught in many years ago when she was a maiden, though not exactly young anymore, and he was the first unwed man who had been attentive to her. She knew that perhaps if she didn't feel the pressure to get married, her clock ticking away, the whispers of other girls or the concern of her parents, she wouldn't have yielded to Gabriel mere weeks into their acquaintance. Or perhaps she would have, with her heart yearning for love and affection like other people desire the joys of the flesh.
Dolly had never been beautiful. As a little girl, she could be considered pretty but only if her cheeks were flushed from playing outside. As she grew up, she became plainer, shyer and wistful. There was nothing wrong with her, nothing she could point her finger on and improve. She was kind, respectful and smart only as much as was expected of girls of noble birth. She could sing, play the piano and speak French, all of it on a level where nobody could say she wasn't talented but no one ever came to her to ask her to play another song. What she lacked in natural beauty she replaced with care and diligence using colourful dresses, accessories or make-up. She was a proper lady and yet everyone who met her agreed that she lacked a certain appeal that would make her truly lady-like.
Gabriel did not see through her gray, dull facade to uncover hidden beauty as there wasn't much to uncover anyway. Dolly came from a wealthy, respected family and that was all Gabriel needed. When he decided to settle down and marry, it was mostly for financial reasons. He didn't have parents, they had died when he was young, and ever since that he was brought up by an aunt alongside his brother Lucifer. They inherited some money and they got half of the sum each. It didn't take Gabriel long to spend almost all of it and that's when he found himself in need of a wife.
It hurt him to see Dolly in pain because of something he had done and yet there was nothing he could do about it.
He was sure that some time in the future, people will find out what he's suffering from is actually a medical condition and he's in no way responsible for it. Right now however, he had to deal with the consequences of his endless escapades. He didn't find Dolly unattractive when they got married and he tried to fulfill his wedding vows as well as he could. For a year he was true to his promise. After that, Dolly had given birth to Samandriel and they had to get a wet nurse for the baby. That was when Gabriel lost himself for the first time - she had been full-bodied and abound with fertility, something Dolly could never hope to achieve. Gabriel tried to suppress his desire, often picturing her embracing him, imagining sucking on her breasts, fantasizing about running a hand over her sex and making it wet with his touch. There was only as much as he could take and he gave in when he accidentally walked in on her feeding the baby.
It was easier with each following face, each following kiss, each following intimacy. He pitied Dolly even more because while he was still young, fresh and on top of his strength, she was withering, fading and becoming uglier under the weight of children. He hated himself because he was effectively the reason why she was getting like that - his children, his greedy seed had caused Dolly's sagged breasts and thin hips. But he couldn't help it, not with the world full of dashing, beautiful people who seemed to lure him to their arms like a moth is lured to its doom in the flame of a lantern.
He had believed he was alone in liking men as much as women. He had been taught liking men was bad, was forbidden, was against the law. This belief was ingrained so deep within him that he bottled up every thought, every desire, every arousal a man ignited in him, afraid someone could see it in his face. That, as well as every other of his assumptions based on what he had been taught, was shattered during the years that led to him losing most of his money. There were so many men who liked to enjoy other men's company in the bedroom, some that preferred it over that of women. Gabriel could not honestly say who he liked better - people he desired had no gender. There were people he had to have, if it would cost his soul, people he would like to have and people who didn't interest him. That was the only division of people he cared about.
Gabriel had honestly believed that if Dolly didn't know about his affairs, it couldn't hurt her. He hoped he could keep it from her because he felt incredibly guilty about cheating on her. He would have been happy to know she found a lover as well - he would find one for her himself - but that was never an option for Dolly. She was obsessed with the sanctity of marriage, condemned anyone who broke it and she found herself in her role of a married woman. That was the worst part for Gabriel - he had taken an angel for a wife, an angel who deserved a much better husband. And as much as she simply couldn't be enough for him, she was the only one who truly found a way to his heart. He may need other bodies but no soul could be purer than Dolly's. Gabriel thought it was a very ugly irony and hoped God had a good laugh about it.
II.
Dolly decided to visit her younger sister that day. She put on her hat, coat and gloves and walked out of the hall, awkwardly passing the things piled up there. She stepped out of the house and motioned for a hackney standing at the side of the street. It was grey and cold outside, the sky heavy with clouds that threatened to spill snow any second. Dolly avoided stepping to the sleet on the pavement as she boarded the coach and rolled the collar of her coat higher.
The ride was short and uneventful. Dolly was grateful for that; she didn't have time to fall into painful thoughts. She paid the man and stepped out into the crisp afternoon. She knocked on the heavy wooden door of her former home and put on a smile that hurt almost as much physically as it did internally. When the butler, an old thin man who must have been alive since the beginning of time in Dolly's eyes, opened the door, a wave of warm welcoming air embraced Dolly and lured her in. She greeted the old servant with kindness and warmth and slipped inside before more of the pleasant air could escape. She looked around the familiar hall, handing her coat to the butler.
"Is Becky home?" she inquired, her eyes sparkling. Compared to her miserable house, her parents' palace seemed to be a paradise on Earth and she took it in with all her senses, searching for her sister's laugh, her mother's incessant talking or her father's loud snoring.
"Yes, she is getting ready to accept a visit," the butler answered and stepped aside, nearly merging with the wall behind him.
"Thank you, Mr Richings," she smiled warmly.
"You're welcome, Miss Dolly," he replied. Dolly didn't tell him she was not a miss anymore like she usually did. Knowing that her old home had not changed since she had left it was soothing. All the things she had found irritating or deficient forgotten, she had only fond memories of the place. She wished she could have stayed there forever.
She shook her head slightly to rid herself of the sentiment and began to climb the marble stairs. She used to find the stone cold and unnecessarily dangerous, today it seemed to her like a stairway to heaven. She held her long skirt with her hands and took the steps quickly yet precariously.
"Dolly!"
She raised her head at the sound and a wide smile settled on her face. Becky waited for her at the end of the staircase and beamed. Dolly wondered what caused her sister's excitement; she was not so foolish to expect it was her presence alone.
"Hello, Becky," she smiled and embraced her sister, planting a gentle kiss on each of the girl's cheeks and her forehead.
"It's so amazing that you came," Becky exclaimed and caught Dolly's hand, dragging her to her dressing room, "I need advice with what dress I should wear and ma doesn't understand anything anymore."
Dolly's smile grew bitter for a moment. So that's what excited her baby sister - a man, of course. The visit Mr Richings was talking about was a suitor and one Becky found very acceptable at that. Dolly had hoped to spend an afternoon reminiscing about her childhood. She quickly understood how silly that had been - even if Becky was not expecting a male company, they would have talked about Gabriel, about the children. She could not escape her prison. She forced herself to smile more earnestly, determined not to spoil Becky's joy.
"Is someone important coming over?" she asked instead. A blush rose to Becky's cheeks. Dolly smiled warmly, remembering how she used to feel this way. Becky was younger than she had been, but she was also a lot prettier.
"Sam Winchester, the ballet dancer," Becky admitted at last and stared at the tips of her shoes.
"Have you known him for a long time?" Dolly inquired further.
"A couple of weeks," Becky shrugged. She was trying very hard to act casual about it and Dolly pretended she didn't notice.
"You know I told you not to be too hopeful," Dolly warned her suddenly, thinking of her own broken heart.
"It's not like that," Becky blurted out and flushed again, "he's very nice and smart. He didn't try to…to suggest anything wrong."
"I'm not saying he did. Just be careful."
"Stay here to meet him and you'll see yourself," Becky exclaimed excitedly, "please, tell me you'll stay!"
"I don't know, I have to go back home, I didn't tell anyone I was going out…" Dolly protested but she was already thinking of how she could send a note to her servants not to expect her for dinner.
"You can send Kevin with a note," Becky countered, "please please please."
"Alright, kitty, calm down," Dolly smiled, using her old nickname for the girl. Becky squealed excitedly and hugged her sister.
"Now let's get you dressed up, hm?" Dolly suggested when they pulled away.
III.
Sam Winchester put on a dress suit, fixed his hair in the mirror and sprayed some perfume on his neck. He had a bouquet ready in a tall glass on his table and no he picked it up and checked if the paper it was wrapped in fit tightly and wouldn't let any cold to get to the flowers. He gave himself a sheepish smile in the mirror, wondering why on Earth he was doing this.
He assumed that if he showed interest in a beautiful young lady, if he courted her and got a positive response, something would click in him and he'd finally understand what Dean was talking about the night before his wedding. But he didn't. It was actually worse because now he made Becky fall in love with him and he knew she expected him to make an advance towards her and his body shivered in horror at the prospect of it. No, the worst thing was that she would be disappointed and heartbroken which was exactly what Sam had feared would happen in the beginning. It seemed like he was broken after all. He promised himself to see Becky one more time to decide what to do about her.
With the flowers in his freezing hands, he left the theater and called for a carriage. Snowflakes fell onto his top hat and shoulders, softly but unforgivingly. He expected to be caught in a storm by the time he left the Rosens'. At least something agreed with him. He had not grown up from the joy children experience when seeing snow, it still made him want to build snowmen or lie down and move his too long limbs to create an angel caught on the ground. They made him sad though; he imagined that each of the figures he made in the snow pulled one real angel down to Earth.
The old butler, Mr Richings, gave him a professional look that managed to be skeptical and condescending whole maintaining the appearance of complaisance. Sam ignored it and brushed his shoes on the mat in the hall before stepping onto the carpet. He handed his overcoat and hat to the man and waited patiently until the lord of the house has been notified of his presence.
"Good evening, Mr Winchester," Becky greeted him shyly but eagerly. He bowed his head in response.
"Good evening, Miss Rosen," he smiled and walked over to her, "you look lovely."
She blushed and offered him her hand with feigned disinterest. He took it and kissed it lightly, pretending not to notice how it burnt even through her thin glove. With the corner of his eye, he noticed another woman approaching them, one that he had not yet met. It surprised him - he supposed Becky would tell him if she invited more guests. Moreover, the stranger didn't seem to be a visitor in the home - she held herself proudly and comfortably. She came to visit often.
"We have not yet been acquainted," he looked to the woman, "My name is Samuel Winchester."
"Dolly Morningstar," she replied. As she spoke, Sam finally understood who she was, recognizing Becky's youthful smile under the layer of fatigue on her face rather than her name. "I am Becky's sister."
"It's an honor to meet you, madam," he said and surprised himself when he meant it. He took her hand to kiss and Becky's eyes brightened as if pleased with his response. Sam observed the elder sister with a curious eye. She had a hardness to her as women burdened with the weight of the world always do. Sam searched through his mind, trying to recall her husband but the only name connected to the surname Morningstar that came to him was that of a famous opera singer, Lucifer. Sam wondered whether Dolly was somehow related to him.
"Let's go to the sitting room, dinner will be ready shortly," Becky spoke and Sam turned from her sister that suddenly interested him more and presented the girl with the bouquet he had brought.
"I hope they did not freeze outside," he smiled apologetically as he removed the paper, damp from the snow. Becky's face brightened up with delight as she accepted the flowers. It was a small bunch, just three white lilies pinned together, but to her it was more precious than all the orchids of the world.
"You said you liked lilies," Sam pointed out when she stared at the flowers mutely, unable to say anything.
"Yes," Becky mumbled finally, "Lilies are my favourite."
"I'll go find some vase to put them in. You two go ahead," Dolly smiled and took the flowers from Becky's hands.
Once alone, Becky and Sam looked at each other. Becky's eyes were full of youthful glee, of expectation and innocence. Sam's conveyed concern and wish he had never come into this girl's life because he was about to ruin it.
"Have you gone skating already?" Sam asked after a while and they finally set off for the sitting room.
"No, not yet, but I've been meaning to," Becky answered, "do you go skating?"
"Yes," Sam admitted, seeing the noose he had been weaving for himself tighten, "it reminds me of ballet."
"You must be a splendid skater then."
"Not at all, I'm afraid," Sam smiled, "I don't have enough connection with the ground there."
"I don't believe you," Becky teased and stepped into the sitting room.
"Good evening, Mr Rosen," Sam bowed his head to Becky's father sitting in an easy chair, "Good evening Mrs Rosen," he walked to the woman and kissed the back of her hand like he did Dolly's and Becky's.
"Mr Winchester, I must congratulate you on the amazing piece of Romeo and Juliet that you performed last week. It was marvelous," the lady blurted out as if she had been meaning to praise Sam since she saw the performance. Sam knew she could not tell a good ballet from a bad one but he smiled as if her word was the law where ballet was concerned.
"Thank you, Mrs Rosen, that's very kind of you," Sam nodded uneasily. He was still nervous when people he knew talked about his ballet career - it felt like another life, another world and he was anxious when his worlds overlapped. When he was on stage, it was easy to forget there were hundreds of people watching him, he could pretend they weren't there. But when someone talked about it, it was impossible.
"Are you performing next week as well?" The lady inquired further.
"Yes, on Saturday," he admitted reluctantly.
"That is lovely," Mrs Rosen mused and gave her daughter a knowing smile. Sam would have flushed if Becky wasn't red enough for both of them.
"How is your brother, Mr Winchester?" Mr Rosen asked and pierced Sam with an attentive gaze.
"He is well, thank you for asking," Sam replied and resisted the urge to sigh. Why Becky's father had not understood that Sam didn't want to talk about Dean, mostly because he hadn't heard from his brother in a while, was beyond Sam's comprehension.
"And your father?" was the next, unavoidable question that Sam dreaded. He noticed Dolly had entered the room and asked her for help with his eyes.
"He is well too, thank you."
"Have you read the newest book of Carver Edlund's?" Dolly asked him. He smiled at her, hoping he could convey all his gratitude into the simple gesture.
"Not yet, I am planning to begin reading it today. Have you?"
"I have begun," she nodded, "I don't have much time for reading though."
"How about you, Miss Rosen?"
"Yes," Becky replied excitedly. Sam had a feeling Dolly had brought the book up as a possibility for Becky to speak. "I was sad about the ending however. I think it could have been written better."
"I can't agree with you yet and I don't dare disagree. But what did you think of the previous one? I thought it was rather rushed."
They spoke of everything and nothing. Becky's eyes didn't leave Sam while Dolly's flickered between the two people. She tried to hide her expression from her sister but she had a bad feeling about their interaction. Not about Sam himself - the man seemed nice and virtuous just as Becky had promised - but about the way he acted towards the girl. He was attentive and engaged her in conversation, he obviously remembered little pieces of information about her, the unimportant details that showed he listened to what Becky said. Yet there was something missing. Dolly was not necessarily looking for signs of infatuation or passion, she understood they didn't have to precede nuptials. Sam, however, showed no intention of taking another step in his and Becky's acquaintance. Dolly frowned slightly, unable to guess what Sam was there for in that case.
Sam praised the food they had for dinner, thanked for it and kissed Becky's hand gently as he took his leave. He did everything he was expected to do and yet Dolly was sure it wasn't enough. She thought about telling her sister that but she didn't have the heart. She could be wrong. All she told Becky when Sam had left was praise, because, if she were to be frank, Sam was an exceptional young man. Becky seemed over the moon at that and Dolly agreed to stay overnight to listen to her sister's excited chatter.
IV.
Lucifer Morningstar set his brother's letter aside and sighed. Gabriel was irredeemable. Of course he would help him, he always did, but he couldn't believe Dolly would put up with it again. To be completely honest, Lucifer had no idea what Dolly liked about his brother that still made her forgive the man. He admired her heart's capacity to love even though he believed it was destroying her. She didn't merely keep living with Gabriel - there wasn't much she could do if she didn't want to live in shame - she still loved the man. Lucifer sometimes wondered who of the two of them is in a worse situation - Dolly who loves the man who cannot help cheating on her or himself who could never love freely, openly. The world is a cruel place.
"Gabriel, when will you grow up?" he mumbled to himself and rose to tell his wife that he would go away. He imagined her sour face when he would mention his brother and chuckled mirthlessly.
"Naomi," he addressed his wife.
"Yes?" She didn't raise her eyes from a sheet of paper she was scribbling on.
"I'm going to visit Gabriel tomorrow," Lucifer didn't let the lack of her response spoil his day.
"For how long?"
"A week, maybe two," Lucifer shrugged even though she didn't see it.
"Don't you have work?" Naomi was still staring at her paper even though she had not written a single letter since Lucifer came.
"It can wait for when I come back. Besides, I need to run some errands in Moscow."
"What about Ruby?"
"What about her?" Lucifer asked in confusion, "You don't want me to take her with me, do you?"
"To meet your poor excuse of a brother? No, not at all." Naomi glared at her husband.
"Then I suppose she will have to stay here. With her teacher and governess."
"And her mother," Naomi said bitterly.
"Yes, right," Lucifer smirked.
"Don't take too long. You know how she clings to you," Naomi said coldly and motioned for the door as a clue for Lucifer to take his leave. He did, feeling no need to prolong the encounter.
"Daddy!"
"Come here, you little demon," Lucifer laughed, squatted and opened his arms for his daughter to slip into them. She gave him a broad smile that missed two front teeth and hugged him.
"Miss Lilith said I could have two cakes at dinner," the black-haired girl announced with a solemn expression.
"Oh really? And how did you earn it?" Lucifer gave her a skeptical look. If it were up to him, he'd give Ruby the occasional second desert, what harm could it do? But Naomi was strict and sometimes she didn't want to let the girl have even a single piece of cake.
"I was very good today. I even remembered to make my bed," Ruby gave her father another toothy grin that missed two incisors.
"You know it's not good for you if you eat too much cake," Lucifer smiled at her and scratched her under then chin.
"You only say that because she made you say it," Ruby frowned and crossed her little arms on her chest.
"She is your mother," Lucifer warned the girl, "and she wants what's best for you."
"No she doesn't. She doesn't like me."
"Why would you say that?" Lucifer tried to appear genuine when he asked that question. Of course he knew why exactly Ruby felt like her mother didn't like her. Mostly because it was true.
"It's okay, I don't like her either."
"You must not say that."
"But you told me I should always tell the truth," Ruby pouted in defiance.
"That I did," Lucifer nodded, "and you should. But sometimes, it's not necessarily good. If somebody asks you, you must tell the truth. But there's no need to say it just like that. Understood?"
"So if someone asks me if I like my mum I can tell that I don't, but I can't if nobody asked me," Ruby's face became pensive as she pondered her father's words.
"Yes," Lucifer nodded, knowing that was all he could hope to achieve on that front. The last thing he wanted was a lying, dishonest child. Ruby walking round telling everyone she doesn't like her mother was a complication he had not expected.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, darling?"
"Do you like mum?"
"I…I have to like her," Lucifer said at last. He knew Ruby would not be fooled; he didn't bring a stupid child to the world.
"No you don't," she protested.
"You'll understand it when you're a grown-up," Lucifer smiled sadly. Ruby seemed to think about the possibility.
"Do you want to go play in the garden?" Lucifer suggested after a while.
"Yes!" Ruby whooped with delight.
"Shh, don't disturb your mother," Lucifer tamed his daughter's excitement. She shrugged in a universal expression of innocence. "Let's go."
Lucifer helped her climb onto her tree swing and swung her, higher and higher until she screamed. She kept urging him to get her higher still and he had a hard time being a responsible parent with her begging. When she's finally satiated her desire for danger, they sat down onto the edge of their small pound, watching the colourful fish inside.
"Are you a brave little demon?" Lucifer asked Ruby when they walked back inside.
"Of course!" she stuck out her little chest proudly.
"That's good. I have a mission for you," Lucifer knelt to have his eyes in the level of Ruby's.
"What mission?"
"You're going to be the boss of the house."
"You're the boss of the house," she furrowed her brow in confusion.
"Yes, but I have to go visit your uncle Gabriel and I need someone to guard the house for me while I'm gone. Can you do it?"
"I don't want you to go away," Ruby pouted.
"I know, baby, but I have to." Lucifer kissed the top of her nose, "I'll bring you toys."
"I want to go with you."
"It's too far for you. You could get sick and then you'd have to stay in bed for weeks," Lucifer put on a serious expression, "You don't want to stay in bed, do you?"
"No," Ruby admitted, conflicted.
"And I need someone to take care of the house. Do you know about someone else who could do it?"
"No."
"See? You'll have a big responsibility."
"But you'll come back soon, right?"
"Of course, little demon."
"And you'll buy me a toy train."
"Alright," Lucifer smiled, "but you'll have to let me play with it too."
"Maybe, if you're good."
"And you will obey your mother, Mr Azazel and Miss Lilith, okay?"
"Okay."
"Deal?" Lucifer offered her his hand. Ruby took it, her short, plump fingers lost in his big palm.
"Deal."
V.
Chuck Shurley adjusted the cap on his head nervously and looked the building he was about to enter over to make sure it was the correct one. Cities made him anxious, there was always too much going on, too many people, too many sounds, too many odours. He tried to come to cities only when it was absolutely necessary and to stay there as shortly as possible. The purpose of his current visit was nobler, more important and therefore gave Chuck more anxiety than any other of his previous trips.
He exhaled and entered the ornamented black and white building. He took off his cap and clutched it in his hands to hide the tremor in them. He climbed a couple of stairs and met a short, round man in the corridor. Before he could contemplate how to approach the stranger, the man addressed him himself.
"Good afternoon. Are you looking for something?"
"Good afternoon. Eh, someone, rather. Mr Gabriel Morningstar."
"Ah, the chief," the man nodded as if he got asked to give information on Gabriel every day, "come with me."
"Thank you."
"You're from the country, aren't you?" The man asked.
"Yes."
"I can tell. You keep flinching as if something will fall on you."
"I'm not used to buildings this big," Chuck said simply, hoping Gabriel's office was close.
"What brings you to Moscow then?"
"Family matters."
"I see," the man said, although he obviously wished to hear more. Chuck pretended he didn't notice.
"Here you go," the man pointed to a door at the end of the corridor.
"Thank you again," Chuck repeated.
"You're welcome. Good luck with your family matters."
Chuck didn't dignify that with an answer. He knocked on the door, mentally pushing his companion away.
"Come in," Gabriel's voice came from within. Chuck took the doorknob and opened to be inside the office as soon as he could.
"Hello, Morningstar," he smiled, relaxing slightly upon seeing a familiar face.
"Chuck!" Gabriel rose from his table and walked to envelop his friend in a bear hug. "My good man, what brings you to my smelly capital?"
Chuck blushed. "I came for advice."
"Ah?" Gabriel stepped away.
"I've decided to find a bride."
"And you want me to give you advice on marriage? That's not a very good idea, my friend."
"What happened?" Chuck gave Gabriel an incredulous look. He couldn't understand how Gabriel could be so disrespectful of the vows he gave.
"Dolly found out about the French governess," Gabriel explained, talking as if Chuck knew who he was referring to. It didn't matter though, the message was clear. Chuck didn't say anything, unable to form a response that wasn't harsh.
"You're judging me," Gabriel guessed.
"Yes," Chuck didn't hide the truth, "I cannot imagine how you can disregard your promise so lightly."
"You know what, this is not a matter to be discussed at work. Let's go have a lunch, I'm hungry anyway." Gabriel picked up his overcoat and hat from a hanger by the door. Chuck had not taken a single piece of clothing off, save for the cap, so he was ready to go.
They went to a restaurant that seemed impossibly posh to Chuck's liking but Gabriel waved it off, saying that he owed more money there than in any other restaurant in the whole city, which was something Chuck was willing to believe without a problem though the reason why they had to go there eluded him.
Gabriel ordered a bottle of expensive champagne and chose a meal for Chuck as well as himself because he knew his companion didn't trust half of them and couldn't decipher what the other half was supposed to be.
"So, tell me about your life. Still writing books you're never going to publish?" Gabriel asked at last.
"I'm still writing, yes. I've also started to take part in the public life of my village. I wish to improve the conditions the peasants live in - they can't read, they don't know anything but how to milk a cow and cut the grass."
"Some would say that's all they need to know."
"But how can we hope to develop when most of the population is holding us back because they have no idea what we're trying to accomplish, let alone how we wish to do it."
"So you're teaching peasants how to read?"
"No, there's too many of them," Chuck replied, unaware of the sarcasm in Gabriel's voice.
"Of course," Gabriel nodded and watched his friend with amusement.
"How are the Rosens?" Chuck asked, uncomfortable with discussing his private thoughts with someone else.
"Well. Becky seems to have a suitor," Gabriel said slowly, watching Chuck's expression. The poor man had never been too good at subtlety and now a dark blush bloomed on his cheeks. Of course he was still in love with Becky Rosen, as Gabriel hd predicted. Chuck Shurley was a lost case.
"Oh?"
"A ballet dancer, Sam Winchester. Dolly says she doesn't think he's going to propose though."
"Why?"
"It's just instinct but I trust her in this," Gabriel explained, taking a sip of his champagne.
"How dare he lead her on like that? It's very undignified and lowly," Chuck frowned.
"I think she enjoys his company," Gabriel objected, "and what do we know, Dolly might still be wrong."
"So I came here in vain," Chuck lowered his head, absent-mindedly talking as if he had already mentioned his wish to propose to Becky.
"I don't think so. She's always liked you, maybe if she sees a familiar face, she'll forget the newcomer. Go visit her, talk to her. You haven't seen her in… what, two years? That's a long time for a girl to change."
"I know she is still an angel," Chuck said dreamily.
"And that she is," Gabriel laughed, "but a different kind from the one you saw two years ago."
"And how's Dolly?"
"Dolly is…a martyr, to be honest. She's the kindest person on Earth, she definitely has the biggest heart." Gabriel sighed, his face suddenly sunken.
"You speak so nicely of her and then you go and lie with other women. Why?" Chuck inquired, genuinely interested in hearing the answer.
"She's an amazing person, yes, but have you seen her body?" Gabriel asked, "Women grow old much faster than men. I look at her and I don't feel any desire. And then I see someone I want, someone young, fresh, beautiful and I just can't help myself."
"I can't comprehend that," Chuck shook his head, "To me, love outside marriage is not love. It might be pleasant, yes, but it's not love."
"That's easy to say for you now," Gabriel shook his head in a lenient smile, "you're in love with a beautiful girl. Of course you would want to honor your vow to someone like Becky. But imagine being married to someone you don't find attractive. What then? Would you still go to bed with her if there were dozens of women driving you crazy?"
"Yes, I would," Chuck said coldly.
They spent the rest of the lunch in a wary, cold conversation. They spoke about everything and nothing, both avoiding the topic they disagreed on. When they finished their meals, Gabriel refused to let Chuck pay his food, acting like a millionaire although he, as he had admitted, was in debts. Chuck pretended to have forgotten something in the restaurant and went back to pay for their lunch.
"Come to dinner tomorrow!" Gabriel invited Chuck before they parted.
"I will, thank you," Chuck nodded, despite knowing that he'd rather eat a slice of bread with butter in solitude than have Dolly give him sympathetic looks since he was sure Gabriel was going to tell her everything about their conversation.
"Come at seven, then."
"Goodbye," Chuck touched the brim of his cap.
"Goodbye," Gabriel replied cheerfully and stepped inside a carriage.