Ch. 10 – Sacrifice
Silver snowflakes drifted lazily from the muted December sky. Christine watched them through the sitting room window as she sat with a book in front of the fire. During the winter months when she could no find no comfort among her flower beds, she had taken to losing herself for a time in the books from Elsa's vast library. Today, however, she found she could not concentrate, and she set the book aside with a sigh of impatience. Restless, she stood up and moved to stare out the window, the endless gray of the sky matching her mood.
She knew the reason for her unsettled mind. Tonight was the evening of the de Chagny Christmas Ball. Rather than a time of celebration as it was for most, Christmas had always been a lonely time of year for Christine since the death of her father. She would have much preferred to spend a quiet holiday with Elsa, especially this year, which had been more difficult than any since then. But she knew that was not the only reason she dreaded the evening's festivities.
She turned from the window, and began the climb up the grand staircase to her room. Upon entering her room, she glanced at the clock and realized with a sigh that it was indeed time to dress for the evening. She sat down in a chair by the fire in her room and stared at the flames, remembering a night when she had lain before that very fireplace, her heart shattered as she had spoke of her lost love to the heavens. Now on this night, only three months later, she feared Raoul would finally ask her for that very same heart – one she had come to realize would never truly be whole again.
She could not refuse him. What reason did she have to do so? He had been so good to her, so patient and steadfast. She had no doubts that he would be a wonderful husband. And yet, guilt and indecision plagued her.
She stood up once again, walking to the armoire to retrieve her finery for the evening. The dress was lovely, a gift from Raoul. It was a pale pink and made of the very finest satin and lace. She fingered the material, feeling its luxury beneath her hand. The dress was demure and innocent, just as Raoul saw her, she thought sadly. And yet she was an innocent no longer. While she had never had anything but a kiss from either of her lovers, the awakening of her body, soul, and mind had belonged to only one of them, and that man no longer walked among the living. How could she in good conscience pledge herself to one man, when all of her being cried out to be with another, even if that was no longer possible?
Tears would no longer come to her, as she had spent them all in the grief of the past months. Instead, her soul felt dead within her, and she faced each day with a kind of resigned detachment – smiling politely and feigning interest in all that went on around her. She felt as if she was living in a kind of limbo, a purgatory, trapped in the mortal world when all she longed for was to be free to fly to the heavens where her lost love awaited her.
With resignation, she undressed and dragged the heavy ball gown over her head, sliding it into place over her slight frame. She looked at herself in the mirror apathetically. The gown was lovely, but a tad too large, and she thought she seemed lost among the dainty ruffles and bows. There were dark circles under her eyes and the soft pink of the dress only served to highlight the pale, unhealthy pallor of her skin. She sat down at her vanity and dragged a brush through her unruly curls without mercy, pinning them back tightly, without much concern. She did not bother with any makeup, aside from a bit of rouge on her cheeks to give her skin at least a hint of color. The face staring back at her, although still youthful, had lost its glow, the eyes their sparkle. It was as if her spirit had deserted her body, leaving only a wraith behind. The shell of a woman staring back at her from the glass seemed far older than her years; the pain she had endured had taken its toll.
Christine stood up and moved toward the door, the rustle of her gown seeming unbearably loud in the comforting silence of her room. Before leaving, she closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her waist, as if to steady herself and gather the strength she would need to endure the evening ahead. Opening them, her gaze fell on the fire once more, and she whispered aloud, "Angel, whatever happens tonight, know only that you are and will always be first in my heart. But please understand, I cannot bear to be the cause of any more pain." With that, Christine opened the door and walked out. The tears that had temporarily abandoned her welled in her eyes once more.