Yellow

In the parlor Christine sat at the piano. She played along with her father as he played the violin. Her nimble fingers danced across the ivory keys. Her father followed the tempo that she set, his fingers moving just as fast. Christine closed her eyes as the last notes faded from the room.

The clapping snapped her out of her music bliss. Standing up quickly, she turned to see the men in the doorway with her mother. Gustave smiled and put his instrument back in its case.

"Philippe and Raoul, how nice to see you again. Glad you could come on such short notice." He warmly shook the two men's hands.

Philippe nodded. "It is no problems at all. We are glad to come." He glanced from Raoul to Christine. "I hope after lunch we can finalize the matters on hand, Gustave?"

"Of course. Christine," Gustave turned to his daughter, "will you go and inform the cooks to start lunch? We will have it on the front deck."

Christine nodded and practically ran from the room. Raouls eyes had never left her once she had seen him. She immediately felt warm and her breath came short. He was handsome. Any girl would be luck to have such a man. And he was rich too. Of course Christine didn't care much for the money. Her parents were well off as well, so she had lived with all the comforts that she wanted. The marriage would purely keep the bloodline pure.

Passing by the hallway mirror she looked at her reflection. The blush on her cheeks was slowly fading. The fixed the few curls that had fallen out and headed back to the kitchen.

Xxx

Lunch had been quiet and the sandwiches were dry in Christine's mouth. She felt as if she could barely swallow the food under Raouls gaze. He barely touched his own food, just sat there and stared at the golden haired beauty before here. Raoul only realized the meal was over when Gustave and his brother stood.

"Shall we go into my study and talk business?" asked Gustave. Philippe nodded.

"Lead the way." Raoul stood to leave with them. "No, no Raoul. You should stay out here, get to know your bride." Philippe winked and left the deck with Gustave.

Christine stiffened when Raoul took the chair next to her. She looked out into the forest, avoiding eye contact. There was silence for a few moments.

"It's beautiful," Raoul sighed. Christine looked at him. Raoul gestured towards the trees behind the picket fence. "The forest," he said. "It's so dark and mysterious. Someone could be hiding there and you would never see him or her. The trees are old; they know so many secrets about the people and animals that they shelter." He turned to Christine. "Have you ever been in there?"

Swallowing, Christine finds her voice. "No. My mother says they are too dangerous. Besides my father owns it, and wishes to preserve the natural state that it is in." She looked in his eyes. "But every morning I come outside all alone, and listen to the sound of the trees and animals as they wake up. I can hear music from the trees, like they are singing."

Raoul leaned back in his chair. "I could tell from your piano playing that you have a passion for music. Your father plays as well I suppose?"

"Yes. He taught me to play. I also have a voice teacher for singing-"

Raoul lit up. "Will you sing for me?" Christine's mouth snapped close. "Please," Raoul said, and gently touched her hand.

"Do you have a song preference?"

Raoul shook his head. "Anything."

Christine straitened and began:

"O del mio dolce ardor bramato oggetto,

bramato oggetto!

L'aure che tu respiri alfin respiro,

Alfin respiro.

O vunque il guardo io giro,

Le tue vaghe sembianze Amore in me dipinge:

Il mio pensier si finge

Le piu liete speranze,

E nel desio che cosi m'empie il petto

Cerco te, Chiamo te spero E sospiro.

"O del mio dolce ardor bramato oggetto,

bramato oggetto!

L'aure che tu respiri alfin respiro,

Alfin respiro."

Raoul watched Christine's face while she sang. He noticed her face and how her eyes sparkled and she smiled. It was the first time he had seen her smile. It made his heart stop. She had such a perfect smile. She turned to him and waited her his response.

"Christine, you have such an amazing gift." He grabbed her hand and gently kissed the back of it. An idea came to his mind. "Please wait here, I need to go and speak with your father. "

He kissed her hand once more and went inside. Leaving Christine in shock, staring at the spot he had kissed. But her attention was brought to the fence when someone shouted, "Miss. I am wondering if you could help me."

Xxx

The man had walked almost everywhere. He wasn't in much of a hurry, and he always wore his yellow suit. The walked down this road knowing that the journey was soon coming to and end. All the stories had led him here to this wood. Smiling, he squashed a wild flower that grew, enjoying watching the petals fall off and scatter in the breeze.

He only looked up when the song notes filled his ears. He followed the sound to a white fence, where he saw the source: a young girl singing to a young man. The man kissed to girls' hand and went inside. Then the man called out.

"Miss. I am wondering if you could help me." He watched as the girl hesitated, but then walked down the stairs to him. "I am looking for a family who lives here, do you know any Girys' about here?"

"No sir," Christine replied. "We have been here for generations and I have never heard that name."

"Ah, I see," the man glanced over her shoulder to see a woman in the window, watching, the girls mother. "And these woods, do you know who owns the land?"

"My father, Gustave Daae. He owns the woods. I am his daughter, Christine."

"Does anyone go into the woods Christine?"

"Not that I know of sir."

"Well," the man in yellow pulled a card out of his jacket, "please give him this for me and have him contact me. I am staying at the hotel." He tipped his hat. "Good day, Miss Christine."

Christine stood there with the card for a moment. Who was that man? Why did he want to talk to her father? Did it have something to do with the forest? Her eyes darted towards the window. Her mother turned away and walked out of sight. Then her eyes went to the gate that separated her from the trees. A breeze flew by tearing the card from her hand, but Christine didn't notice it blow to the sidewalk.

She heard something.

Music.

There was music in the wind. And it was coming from the forest. Without a second thought, she opened the gate and went to where she had heard the sound.