Ch.4: Publicity Is Never a Good Thing
Being a woman of proper French parentage and raising, Gabriel de Fassine was expected to keep her nose out of business that she was not supposed to be witnessing. She did, most of the time. She told the truth, most of the time. She was never caught with her dirty gossip, all of the time. And when the invitation the de Chagney's annual charity ball arrived in the mail, she knew that it was simply necessary to bring a story that would bring the party crashing down about the de Chagney's pampered ears. It just so happens a lie was not necessary. There was a goldmine of rumors just itching to be started from the moment she saw Christine walking home with another man's cloak around her shoulders.
Gabriel smirked evilly when she saw the Vicomte de Chagney saunter through the door, late to his own revelry. Christine was on his elbow, looking stunning in a ruby-red frock set off by a diamond pendant, while her husband was adorned in his perfunctory navy suit. She appeared to be relaxed and affable, chatting smoothly with other guests. Raoul seemed to wear the same emotion, but kept glancing nervously around, as if expecting something to pounce on him. Poor soul, thought Gabriel as she continued to survey the couple, he's got no idea that his wife's gallivanting off with other men. Better change that.
The woman gently removed herself from the arm of her nameless date, rubbing her gloved hands together. There was work to be done, but it had to be done discreetly so nobody would blow the whistle on her. She smoothed her sapphire-blue dress, making her look as innocent as she was wicked. Gabriel moseyed up behind a gathering of older women, squeezing herself between their shoulders. They were bantering idly about other unimportant topics, such as who was expecting and who was making what political decision. She tapped one of the younger girls on the shoulder, glancing around with a bored look. The entire group fell quiet and all eyes were on her.
" Say, ladies," she whispered, " what would you say if I told you miss de Chagney over there hasn't been entirely…faithful?" an eerie silence fell over the group, but then a barrage of questions erupted. " Are you serious? How can you be sure? Oh, poor Raoul! He gave himself heart and soul to that girl!" A few of the eavesdroppers hissed in unison. Gabriel played with a tress of her raven hair as the interrogation continued. " Tell us more!" Gabriel shook her head, a collective groan rising from the group. " I just wanted to know what you would say if I told you. Say, I bet Countess le Reve might know more. Go ask her!" The gathering immediately skittered off to find the suggested source of continued gossip. Gabriel returned to her date, clinging to his elbow as she watched the same awkward silence spread. Her work was done.
The rumor spread like wildfire through a thicket of dry brush. People who had been waltzing in the middle of the marble floor stopped, all whispering to their partners. A lone dancer yanked on the trousers of a resting cellist and murmured the news in his ear. Within moments everybody was at their leisure half-heartedly, all staring at Raoul and Christine. Nobody said more than a few mumbled words to them, and even the string quartet was watching them curiously. Raoul was now looking around confusedly and Christine was now a hue to match her dress. While this was happening, Gabriel was doubled up with laughter behind a potted palm, admiring her handiwork from afar.
Before long, one of Raoul's friends walked up to him and whispered something in his already scarlet ear. Earlier than he could react completely, Christine turned and bolted from the ballroom, out the front door, down the street, and far away from where they could find her. She knew perfectly well what Gabriel told everybody, and she knew Raoul would be crushed. Having somebody disappointed with you was worlds worse than having somebody angry with you. Before long, she ended up at the docks, and she was a sight for sore eyes when the rain began to pour down in icy torrents. Frustrated with life, she sat down at the end of the dock and cried. Sailors watched the figure in the gorgeous red dress weep her eyes out, not taking care to gawp.
Christine wiped her eyes on her now soaked gloved, staring into the murky water below. What could she do now? She could never face Raoul again, and there was no place for her at the opera house. Suddenly, caught up in her own outpour of emotion and the frigid rain, she slipped from the edge of the dock into the dark water, hitting her head on a boat tether. As blackness consumed her, the same old song came back and haunted her, like carnival music playing backwards.
…He'll always be there singing song in my head…
Before the world faded away, the girl felt two strong arms seize her and pull her upward. She wasn't sure if it was just some lout who had seen her slip, or if it was an angel taking her to the afterlife, and she wasn't sure if entirely mattered anymore.