The Phantom's Daughter

Chapter Twenty-Six

I walked boldly through the Opera House. My place with Erik was secure in the sense that I was guaranteed a warm bed and two full meals a day. I had a horse who was getting more gentled and tamed and more willing to work with me. I had a new set of clothes, in breeches and shirts and vests. Erik got me a hairbrush and a black ribbon to tie my hair back. I also noticed he refilled my shoulder bag with the art supplies I had lost (they were old and few anyway so it wasn’t a heavy loss). I felt untouchable.

The managers were freaking out about the events of last night. First Carlotta left and now Christine. Gossip ran its gold, but it wasn’t worth much if all your cast disappeared, or had the habit of disappearing.

“Still, the seats are getting sold, and the Vicomte is our new patron…” tried Monsieur Firmin.

“We won’t have any sold seats when we have no cast!” stressed Monsieur Andres. “Unless we have an understudy for the understudy that took our Prima Donna’s place!”

“Ha!” showed up Carlotta. “So the little toad found it was too much for her?” she raised her head in contempt. “You are lucky I come back to give you a second chance!”

“Mademoiselle! Praise God for your return!” the manager took her hand and kissed it fiercely, just as Madeleine Giry walked up, dressed in black as always, with her cane and severe look. Her daughter Meg stood beside her, in a simple dress, watching her mother.

“Gentlemen, Carlotta…Ms. Daae has returned.”

“Ha! This was a waste of time then!” Carlotta shrilled, yanking back her hand from Monsieur Firmin.

“Excuse me, but is Ms. Daae ready?” Raoul said from behind the party of Carlotta and her husband and maids. “My horses and carriage are ready.”

“Oh! This is clear now! She’s sleeping with the patron! Her fame has nothing to do with talent but with sleeping her way to the top! This is an insult!”

“No! No! That wasn’t it! You don’t understand, I am escorting her….to see a friend—”

“I know exactly what is going on, do not think I can see through your tricks, young man…perhaps it was you who poisoned my wine that made me lose my voice!”

“I dare say! I’ll not stand for such accusations!” Raoul straightened, raising his chin.

They started arguing, and I made my way, passing by the dressing rooms. Christine poked her head through and hissed at me to come here. I furrowed my eyes at her. What did she want? When I stood there, she peeked outside at everyone arguing, sneaked out and grabbed my hand, pulling me in her room.

“Hey!” I cried ready to strike her.

“Please! Here,” she handed me an envelope. “Please give this to Erik.”

I put my hands behind my back. “I don’t have to, nor do I want to. What on earth makes you think I’d do that for you?” I sneered.

“Because you care about Erik and it’s the right thing to do.” she said. “I need to talk to him. But you need to give it to him.”

I stared at the letter. I couldn’t read, or else I’d read it myself before giving it to him. I snatched the letter from her and stormed out. She looked at me leaving. I walked to Madeleine and gave the letter to her, so she could give it to Erik. I was not going to be a part of this, and I was no one’s messenger girl.

*****

I was startled when Madeleine and Meg came to see me. Of course they had safe passage down here, but they rarely visited. This was not their environment and they were too needed up in the Opera stands to go unnoticed for long enough to sneak down here anyways. So it must have been serious as to why they were here.

Madeleine held out an envelope for me. Meg raised her hand to her mother and made her a sound of protest.

“What is it Meg?” I asked. She regarded me with her blue eyes, almost as if she was angry with me. She shrugged.

“It’s from Christine, but I think you should just let it go.” she said, receiving a smack from her mother.

“Christine is a grown woman. She is old enough to make her own decisions.”

“Thank you.” I nodded my head towards her, not sure why Meg was getting all bothered by this. It wasn’t like I kidnapped the young woman.

“No more.”

“What?” I asked Madeleine.

“No more. The next time something like that happens like with Joseph Buquett I get the Police involved. Do you understand? The only reason I didn’t this time was because of what he’s done.” she said sternly. I set the letter down and turned to her, coy.

“Madeleine, I manipulate the managers into paying me a monthly allowance for my needs, I’ve traveled the world, caused the death of a man and am very proficient in the magical arts and yet you stand there to—” Madeleine raised her arm and struck me around the head.

Everyone in the room froze, looking wide eyed at Madeleine. I held my hand to my temple where she struck me. It was the first time she had struck me since I was child, and it was only the second time that Madeleine ever struck me when she thought it fitting to put me in my place.

“Don’t you threaten me or my family! I am the one who brought you into this Opera House and I will be the one to take you out of it!” she yelled, before grabbing her daughter and leaving.

I turned to look over at Rita, who had her place on the other side of my desk near the end where she worked on her drawings. She raised her eyebrows at me, but said nothing. I turned back to my desk, feeling humiliated and ashamed for talking like that to the woman who half raised me and opened the letter to read what Christine:

Erik,

There has been some misunderstanding.

I had no intention of violating your personal space, but there is more to this than you know….

Meet me outside of the graveyard tonight at 10.

Let me explain—there is more to the story that you are unaware of.

Christine Daae

“What does it say?” inquired Rita. “She told me she wanted to see you to explain earlier.”

“Well you're a noisy little minsk aren’t you? Did you read my letter?” I growled.

“I can’t read, so no. But she asked me to hand it to you when she saw me earlier and explained why.”

“Then why did Madeleine and Meg hand it to me instead?” I asked sourly.

“Because I handed it to them. That’s why.”

“Was it so hard to hand me the letter?”

“Well I think you know my opinion of this, and it’s like Madeleine said, it’s none of my business.” she replied shortly.

“What a sassy little thing I’ve brought into my house,” I said, reading the letter again.

That night after Rita was in bed, I snuck out and rode Reyer to the graveyard nearby as per Christine’s note. I brought my sword just in case. This was risky, and I was trusting a young woman who had just seen me for who I truly was, both my physical deformation as well as my emotional instability and this could be a set up after that brilliant performance of sabotaging Carlotta and the murder of Joseph Buquett. But I also know she was apologizing to me the other day before Rita dragged her away and risked sending me that note too, so I had to take that chance.

A small white figure paced before a bench just outside the cemetery. The night was cold and dark, but the moon was very bright. Dismounting and hitching Reyer up (who was blowing heavily but excited for his late night run) I spun my head around to see if anyone else was near, not going to the figure just yet.

A couple was walking through the cemetery pathway, but heading the other way. The young woman was crying, hugging her husband as they walked.

After a minute, I thought it was safe and went over to stand by the figure. It was Christine. She was waiting for me. Caressed by moonlight, she looked even more beautiful than she did during the daytime. Her eyes were still red from crying and she looked tired but imploring.

She was startled when I went over. “You fear me.” I said.

“Not the reason you think monsieur.” she answered.

I made a noise of exasperation. Too many people have tried saving themselves with that excuse after seeing my face.

“Monsieur please!” she walked hastily up to me, grabbing my arm. I was shocked. “I didn’t know you were! For a moment,I thought you were my father! And I had seen my father die!” she explained.

I froze and looked at her. She slowly released my arm and sat on the bench.

“Mademoiselle, I am so sorry—”

She held up her hand, clutching her handkerchief to silence me. “I saw my father dead in that room, in the house by the sea. He had been quiet for a few days, and he often liked to seclude himself with his thoughts or music, sometimes with me when we would practice, but….I decided to check on him because he’d always come and wish me a good night…and he hadn’t for three nights. And there he was in his chair…...” she looked at me with such sorrow in her eyes, reliving that kind of trauma. My heart broke for her, and I tentatively reached for her, but thought better of it, resting my hand on my knee.

She looked down again. “The last thing he had promised to me was that he was going to send an angel of music for me to guide me in my career. And there you were, pretending to do just that.”

“Pretending who I was, yes, but pretending to help make your song take its wing, no! That has always been true, and my deepest desire.”

“Why?” she demanded. “And how did you even know of that promise my father gave to me anyways?”

“I heard you and Meg talking.”

A look of shock came over her. “Is Meg in on this?”

I sharply took in my breath. Meg and Madeleine were supposed to be my only two alibis. Then Rita came along, but she was just as wounded and alone in this world as me, and now she was in no it. But for Christine to know too? I mean, she deserved to know the truth, but would this lead to my betrayal? If she knew then would she later on betray me? I knew Meg and Madeleine could hold their own if they were caught, but it also wasn’t fair of me to put that on them if I could help it.

Unfortunately I paused too long and Christine gasped. “She is in on it! And Madeleine Giry! They told you!”

“Sh! Please, my dear, not so loud!” I raised my hand, looking frantically. The young couple walked out of the cemetery. It was not the woman who had been crying, but her husband, comforted by his loving wife. “No, they didn’t tell. They haven’t been involved in anything that I’ve done to you. But please do not tell!”

“You used my religion against me! How dare you! That is a sin!” she exclaimed.

“Please forgive me, Christine, please, I implore you, do not forsake me.” I fell off the bench, onto my knees in front of her, clasping my hands together. She looked uncomfortable, looking around frantically. I know I looked ridiculous and I know it was unseemly for a man to behave like this, but I didn’t want to lose her. I’d been at this for two years now, what was I going to do without her to carry my song? What was I going to do if she rejected me, even as a friend?

“Erik, please stop, I forgive you.” she pushed my hands down and asked me to sit on the bench again, looking frustrated and blushing. Remorse washed over me. Now it looked like I was manipulating her, but I wasn’t! I truly was sorry! It hurt me that I used her father against her, not knowing the pain and fear that his death had caused her. I explained this all to her.

“So you see, I did not wish to frighten you is all, Christine! Imagine a strange man just happening into your room, complimenting your singing voice, when you’ve always sang alone with no one around, and sharing with you promises of future glory?” I finished.

She chuckled this time, putting a hand over her mouth. “We live at the Opera House, Erik, it’s not as uncommon as you might think.”

I allowed myself a small smile. “Well, exactly, and I wasn’t about to just blend in with the others who offered empty promises and had prices that were unfit to ask a lady. I wanted to be genuine. Please, mademoiselle, let me keep working with you. And I will tell you my story, and I will listen to yours. You do have the voice of an angel above, and I want to see that take off….I want to give you the promise your father left with you…for his sake and honor and well as mine. Perhaps in a strange, divine way, I really was meant to be your mentor…your…angle of music…if you will…”

She looked away, serious again and nodded.

“Will you let me continue to work with you?”

She sighed. “Let me take a week to think on it please. I’ll be away with…..with a friend….but I will let you know when I return.”

I nodded eagerly. I could wait a week.