VIOLET EYES | LES MISÉRABLES

chapter one

Eight years later.. March 1831

The frightened cherub had blossomed into a princess from a storybook. Sonnet Javert matured into a beautiful young woman, with long red curls and violet eyes that framed her soft and innocent face. She caught the eye of all those she passed but was blind to such stares.

It had been eight years since Javert had rescued her from the abandoned Parisian carriage, and from there on he had consistently cared and doted on the young girl. It did not take long for the pair to forget the connection with 24601 and become inseparable. Sonnet considered him her true father, even at the age of seventeen, the age in which you begin to open your eyes to the real world.

"Bonjour, Papa!" Sonnet cooed one morning as she glided down the stairs, noticing her father clad in his uniform at the dining room table. She was still donning her nightclothes, simply a billowing white nightgown.

He smiled softly as she entered the room, her golden aura lifting his mood instantly. That was one trait that Sonnet continuously portrayed. Her constant positivity lightened the atmosphere, no matter the situation.

She bent down to affectionately kiss Javert's cheek before disappearing into the kitchen. They used to have a cook and governess for Sonnet, but after much debate the Javerts were left to fend for themselves when Sonnet was fifteen. Another notable trait of Sonnet's; she had a knack for debating and easily winning.

"You're awfully chirpy this morning, ma chérie." Javert quipped, watching his daughter twirl around the kitchen.

"I am simply happy, Papa. It is a beautiful day. I think I might go for a stroll in the gardens this morning." She proclaimed, arranging a small breakfast for herself.

Javert raised an eyebrow, but nodded anyway. He was fiercely protective of Sonnet, as most fathers are about their daughters. In truth, Sonnet was more independent than some. But Javert knew Paris better than anyone, and its hidden dangers he dared not mention in front of her. "Do you need an escort?"

"Non, Papa! I am a big girl, I shall be fine!" Sonnet protested, sitting down in the chair beside her father. "Besides, it is merely the gardens. The only harm is the possibility of a bee sting."

Javert did not press on the subject, but fully intended to bring it up once the pair departed for the day. His long and unpredictable work schedule meant that they did not see other as often as they used to, which frustrated them both.

Sonnet finished eating, and dashed back up the stairs again. She was hoping that she would be able to be dressed and ready to leave the house the same time as Javert.

She walked into her bedroom, humming to herself. Music was something brought her joy, but did not hear enough of as Javert was not fond of attending the theatre. The only time she would make the journey to the Paris Opera House was her birthday, when Javert would reluctantly sit through a ballet or opera.

Sonnet dressed in a loose corset, chemise and pantaloons, opening her curtains to bask in the bright sunlight. She delved into her colourful wardrobe, selecting a pale lilac dress that nearly matched the unusual purple tones in her eyes. There were days that Sonnet hated the colour of her irises, as it was the one thing officers and streetfolk commented on. But on other days, like today, she was glad to be different. Unique, as her Papa always said.

There was a gentle knocking upon her closed door that snapped her out of a daydream, and she called for them to enter her bedroom. The door creaked open, revealing Javert.

"Salut, Papa. Again." Sonnet smiled at him, before turning to the mirror and sticking a few pins in her curls. She usually wore her hair down, letting the naturally fiery curls cascade down her back.