Catrina: A Les Miserables Story

chapter 4: balita

balita : [noun] news

pictured above: a letter written by Marquis de Lafayette (1830)

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April 1831

It was easy to say that the time that Catrina spends under the Gillenormand's heavy hand would prove to be the most hellish two months of her life. She was rarely let out of the estate, and if she was, it was usually under the watchful eye of Fleur. Or Madame Fleur as she was ordered to call her.

There were the few times when Catrina was allowed to wander the garden, something that she had hoped for since she had first arrived at the Gillenormands. But she was told to stay far away from Fleur's roses, limiting her exploration to a small and unkempt patch of brown weeds that circled a broken fountain.

The matters of her whereabouts were not the only issue. As much as Fleur wanted to keep top surveillance on the woman, she frequently refrained from conversing with her, let alone even standing near her. The most they have ever really had some form of interaction was when Catrina was due for her etiquette lessons.

Monsieur Gillenormand had never really shown any interest in forming any sort of bond either, Catrina only ever seeing his face at the dining table. And even then, he only queried on her studies and nothing more.

It seemed as if Marius was the only person aside from his family who perceived to make the effort of acquaintance with her. Like clockwork, at noon when Catrina's lessons had finished, Marius would slip into the drawing-room to whisk her off for lunch before bombarding her with an endless stream of questions. These discussions had eventually shifted from educational to friendly terms, now frequenting informal speech. Marius, like the eccentric man he was, would often prompt the next round of chatter with a question off the top of his head.

He would apologize often to Catrina concerning his less than welcoming family, so much to the point that she had pleaded with him to just ignore it. He had acquiesced, but his righteous personality still struggled whenever she and Fleur were in the same room.

"Tell me about Paris."

Marius' eyebrows rose in question, looking up from his book to face the woman across from him. She had not bothered to look at him, her head still stuck in a book of her own, the only movement being her hand as she dipped her quill in a bottle of ink.

"You've visited the city a number of times, I would have thought you knew by now." He replied.

Catrina rolled her eyes, resting her head in her hand. "There isn't exactly a lot to do when the person accompanying you doesn't let you do anything. I'm rarely let out anyways."

"Is it always my aunt?"

"Her and partly Marcel. But even then, I can barely speak a word to him without Fleur cutting in. And all we ever do is shop for her." She pursed her lips, bitterly speaking.

Marius shook his head, closing the book shut as he leaned back in his chair. They were seated in the library, where they often wasted their time in getting lost between the two-story shelves. Light streamed in from the window, providing ample lighting from the afternoon sun onto the table that was messy with scattered books and papers. Catrina finally looked up at him, her curious eyes on his own.

"Well, in my eyes, it's quite boring," He mumbled, turning his head to face out the window, the view of the long stretch of land that was entirely owned by his family. "But it is to be expected after living here my entire life."