::Interchapter::

Enjolras waited as patiently as he could for the women to return, but he was growing restless. He could tell Marius was feeling the same way. He tapped his fingers against the banister, and fidgeted with is hair, anything to subdue his boredom for a moment. At long last, Clarisse emerged from the room, and announced, "They are ready." This caught his attention, and he stood a little straighter, staring anxiously at the door. All three women walked out as gracefully as possible. Enjolras saw Eponine instantly in her new dress. All he could do was stare at her, a half smile planted on his face.

Her face was clean and her hair was pulled back into a loose bun, a few stray tendrils hanging delicately on her face. Her dress was a far cry from the usual rags and torn jacket. It was a mix of velvet and some other material, and the color complimented her skin tone and hair. The neckline dropped to just the right place, and the curves of the dress hugged her waist perfectly. The front of the dress formed a triangle in front, the skirt starting at her hips and going down to the floor, covering her feet and making her look as if she was floating.

She saw him staring, and smiled. He swallowed, raising his eyebrows.

"You ladies look lovely!" Pierre cried. "In fact, you look so good, how about you keep those dresses, as a thank you for attending this dinner."

Enjolras saw Eponine's face light up immensely, and couldn't help feeling a small pang of jealousy in the pit of his stomach. His memory brought him back to the dress shop, where he couldn't afford to get her even the simplest of dresses. He lowered his eyes, shaking the feeling from his head.

"And you, Eponine, here's a cane, to help you walk." Pierre handed her a shiny wooden cane, engraved with fancy gold letters. Again Enjolras felt that twinge of jealousy stab at him. Once again he shook it off. As they all entered the dining room, they admired the elaborate paintings and other works of art displayed carefully around. As the first course was brought out, the conversation had already started.

"Have you heard of that battle back by the Rue de Vilette in Paris? Just dreadful." Enjolras was about to reply that, yes, he had heard. In fact, he had been involved. But Pierre continued to talk. "My brother fought in that battle. He was killed by those insolent rebels. Bastards, the whole lot of them, don't you agree?"

Enjolras kept his face and voice level as he rose from the table. "No, monsieur, I do not agree. I happen to have fought for the rebels, I was their leader. You have insulted the wrong man, Pierre." He hissed, placing his soup spoon down on the table and walking quickly out the front door, letting it slam behind him. Eponine rose slightly and whimpered, biting her bottom lip. Marius slammed his fork down and followed Enjolras out the door. Now Eponine stood up fully, wincing as she put pressure on her leg. She too followed the men out the door, throwing one last pitiful glance and Pierre on her way out.

"I'm sorry Pierre, but you have offended me as well." Cosette said icily, walking out the door in a more dignified manner than everyone else. The only one who remained in her seat was Kate. She stared empathetically at Pierre, whose head sunk into his hands.

"How was I to know?" He whispered. Kate felt sorry for them. He had every right to be angry with them, after all, they and killed his brother, but on the other hand, they were his friends.

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Enjolras was halfway down the many steps when he heard a voice call his name. He turned violently and saw Eponine tripping down the steps after him. His face softened as he caught her when she fell. The fabric of her dress was so soft. Probably to expensive for him to afford, he thought bitterly, his anger towards Pierre bubbling up inside him again.

"Calm down," Eponine begged. "please."

He looked at her. "Eponine, he was talking about our friends, about me, about you, about-" He stopped when Eponine's hand covered his mouth, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Please." She said again. This time, all Enjolras could do was stare helplessly, lost for words.

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Kate reached out and placed a hand firmly on Pierre's arm. His head snapped up at her unexpected touch. All they did was exchange a glance, and his whole act fell apart. Kate could almost see the polite cover slide away like water on glass. Then they began to talk.

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A few minutes into their conversation, Kate summoned up enough courage to ask, "Are you courting anyone?" He shook his head, and Kate felt her heart lift for the first time in weeks.

"No, but I am. . . promised. Betrothed, if you will." Kate literally felt her heart break. Her lower lip trembled, and she bit her tongue until it bled to stop the tears from falling. Betrothed?

"To whom?' She asked sadly.

"To a lovely women named Anne." He said solemnly. Kate tried to sound and look happy for him, but in truth it was tearing her apart.

"Congratulations." She said, her voice shaking. "I must go now." She announced, turning from him as the first tear slid down her cheek. Suddenly she felt his hand on her arm. He turned her around and kissed her. Her eyes widened in shock. When she regained her voice, all she could do was make a small sound of disgust mixed with shock.

"You're. . .you're engaged Monsieur!" She gasped.

"I know." He said, his eyes on the floor. "But I hate it. And I know you do too." And in one last half conscious attempt to kiss her; he leaned forward, pulling her closer to him. She shoved him away, into the doorframe and his head hit the wood. Turning away, she bounded out the door and down the steps, wiping her eyes. Now she was torn. She loved him more than anything; she knew it couldn't be avoided. But he was betrothed! And. . . and the world was twisted and horribly wrong.

Kate continued to run forward blindly. Her life was becoming a knot of frayed edges.

a/n: Well, that's the end of this book, look forward to installment 4 in the split ends series!!!