Chapter One
Wednesday 24th February 1871,
Carlotta Giudicelli's rather large Townhouse,
Rue du Faubourg St.-Honoré, Paris
"Señorita will not be coming down for breakfast today," whispered Madame Campan to the kitchen staff who frowned in confusion.
"Why ever not?" asked one, a Giselle Deaunet, a thin scullery maid with a poor complexion and mousy curly hair.
"Don't you know what day it is?" hissed Amélie Fauvet, a large girl with long dark straight hair and sparkling blue eyes. "It's been one month since Senhor was tragically killed" and the entire kitchen went quiet.
"Oh" Giselle said and went back to sweeping the floor as the chef continued to make breakfast, knocking evermore flour on the floor.
"I suppose Mademoiselle Carlotta will be having breakfast in her room then?" said Salomé, the chef and Madame Campan shook her head.
"Non monsieur; she's refusing to eat," she said hopelessly and Salomé grimaced; a mornings work now to be fed to the ratty maids.
Madame Campan shrugged as she turned away but upon hearing the maids giggling with whispers about their mistress she whipped around and eyed them thoughtfully.
"I'll have none of that from ma petit sluts" she said icily "Señorita has been through quite enough without you gossiping harlots making it worse. You girls do not understand what it is to love a man, you mustn't the way you throw your legs open at the sight of 'fresh meat', and therefore you do not understand what it is like to lose said beloved. I'll have you thrown out if Señorita hears a single piece of chitchat about her from you, you understand?" she glared at them and the group of girls giggled.
"Oui Madame" the four maids chorused and went back to their work, giggling and pulling faces, as the housekeeper left.
"Just because she cannot hold a man down, just because when she throws her legs open her husband doesn't even notice" said Giselle nastily and Amélie swatted her over the head with her rolling pin.
"Whore" she merely said and work was continued.
Carlotta sat on her bed, weeping as she sipped at a cup of herbal tea, her long crimson hair braided down her back, her pink nightgown covered by a black dressing robe. She had been awake since four that morning, awoken by her own sobbing as she dreamt of her lover.
Carlotta had not seen much of Paris since...that night. She attended the funeral of course, and bore witness to the court hearings for La Vicomte de Chagny over the death of his older brother Philippe, La Comte. But apart from these small occasions and slight outings such as a walk outside for a breath of fresh air Carlotta hardly saw anyone. Her friends and supporters suddenly disappeared at the moment she needed them the most; popularity hunters they were, becoming best friends with the most sensational people of the time when it benefited them of course.
And as Carlotta placed her hand on her stomach she felt sick once again and grabbed for the bowl.
It had been like this for the past month; uncontrollably sick in the mornings and vertigo. And now her course was late for over a week. As these thoughts compiled themselves in her mind Carlotta felt as if she may faint, realising.
In a panic she rang the bell for Madame Campan who came running.
"Yes Señorita?" she asked, confused by Carlotta's pale panic stricken face doused in yet more tears. Her mistress shook in fear, her hands holding her stomach, biting her lip as she summed up the words.
"Can you please call the physician?" she asked quietly and Madame Campan started; her mistress could not be ill? Not when she had been so sheltered from the world in the past month.
"Oh Señorita, are you ill? You do look pale" she said, rushing to feel the diva's forehead but Carlotta pushed her away gently, her eyes cold and serious.
"No Madame, I think I am pregnant" she said quietly, wiping the drying tears from her sticky face as Madame Campan looked at her in shock. "Please don't look at me like that, I feel horrid enough already, just get the goddamned doctor" she spat at her and the lady left the room as Carlotta's gaze fell to her stomach.
"Oh dear god" she whispered and clutched on to the crucifix hanging about her neck "please forgive me...I didn't think it would matter...we were to be married within the month...we could wait no longer...forgive me..."
Wednesday 24th February 1871
Living Room of La Comte De Chagny's Townhouse,
Paris
Christine sat with her needlework in her lap, staring straight ahead as she ceased her work, immersed within her own thoughts. The news had reached her in the Epoque newspaper, on page three of the advertisements. A mere box with a message baffling to anyone at first glance;
Erik wishes to see his angel
And such a message sent a chill down the Comtesses spine and filled her heart with dread. To return to see the monster...oh she could be killed by his spite or immersed in his love, drowned in his sorrows or caught up in his passions. That monster which she once thought upon fondly, the one who had turned from angel to demon in a matter of seconds, this wolf in lambs clothing...it wished to see her.
She had checked page three of the advertisements each day for one month now, checking for the message that announced the monsters death. But only this...command had reached her.
"Darling" came Raoul's voice and she jolted. Turning to see her husband Christine relaxed, forcing a relieved smile upon her face.
"You scared me! I didn't know you were there" she laughed gaily and he pressed his lips to her cheek, settling his arms around her shoulders as she comfortably leant back into his embrace, attempting to remain calm even though the news still surged through her veins.
"Forgive me Lotte, I am sure I'll make it up to you" he growled, beginning to kiss her neck softly, letting Christine forget herself as she became enwrapped in the moment, sighing as Raoul's hands snaked around her waist and bust.
Christine opened her eyes to turn and kiss Raoul but stopped as she caught sight of the newspaper, still sitting open on the coffee table.
Erik wishes to see his angel
"What is it?" Raoul asked in confusion as his wife froze in fear. Christine swallowed nervously and composed herself, her eyes wide in panic.
"I..." she began but could not explain it in words and shoved the newspaper into Raoul's lap, pointing frantically at the advertisement.
Erik wishes to see his angel
Raoul turned pale, his bemused smile fading to a worried grimace, his hands clenching tensely into shaking fists.
"Is that it?" He whispered in fury "Can we never be in peace?...You say that you wish for her to be happy...to be with me and be happy at that...but yet you cannot stop your haunting of my wife!" he roared, picking up the newspaper and tearing it into shreds. Christine stood back in fright; she had never seen Raoul lose his temper like that before, he was always so calm in his nature.
Still shaking he picked up a crystal vase and threw it at the wall. As the shards sprayed across the floor Raoul fell into his chair, his back racking with sobs as he ran his fingers through his short blonde hair.
Christine rushed to him, her arms falling around his broad shoulders, kissing his cheeks, kissing away his tears. Settling to sit upon his lap she set about calming him.
"Darling...I will speak to him...he will not bother us ever again...please don't cry, when you cry it's as if my heart would tear in two...oh darling" she sighed and embrace her husband as his tears soon were pouring down her arm.
Erik wishes to see his angel
"I'm sick of it...so god damned sick of it Chris...what if we're never rid of him...what if we can never live our own lives in peace?" he managed to choke out and soon Christine's tears mingled with his own as she cried at the thought of never being free as Erik had promised.
"I know, I know darling...we will be rid of him, please keep faith Raoul, we will be free" she whispered in hope.
"It's hard to have faith anymore, I thought I could have faith when I left those caverns with you at my side and I thought it meant nothing was ever without hope. But I'm finding it hard to believe lately, and it's impossible to have hope when such promises are broken" he said quietly as he wiped his sticky face, the tears stopped as he held his wife to his body, dying at the thought that she might be taken away from him.
"I would never leave you Raoul, I'd do anything for you. I love you and that is something to have faith in," Christine whispered and he patted her back.
"That's one thing I always have faith in. I love you" he said and took her lips to his, their tears salty in each others.
"We'll figure something out" she whispered as he pulled away.
"I hope so"
