Sorry for the long hiatus…I was extremely busy and I apologize. Hopefully there will be an update for Global Desire, my other current story, relatively soon.

As well, I want to extend my thanks to fellow author DonJuanTriumphs, a wonderful person and an authoress who has truly grown with every story she writes. :-)

The lyrics to "No One Knows Who I Am" do not belong to me…they belong to Leslie Bricusse and Frank Wildhorn.

If you're interested, I've started a new endeavor that is not Phantom-related…it's entitled The Hyde Formula and is based upon the musical Jekyll & Hyde, though you need not necessarily be familiar with it to read the story.

Enjoy this chapter! I hope it gets you thinking! And please, if you've been lurking, consider reviewing…it really does add something when you feel that your work is appreciated.

NSL Jewelles

Chapter Four – Premiere and Encore

My heart seemed to be pounding out of my chest as three maids, overseen by Andréa, prepared me for the evening. First, they had bathed me in such a sweet-smelling bath that it was almost too much, scrubbing my skin until it was pink and raw and my aunt pronounced me clean. Then there was the tugging and pulling at my hair, fighting with it to lie flat instead of flying every which-way. And, of course, there was the makeup, mostly to cover my bruised cheek.

Finally, the maids let me put on my undergarments, bound me up in a corset tighter than any I'd worn before, and, after at least two hours, they put me in my dress. It was similarly cut to the one I'd worn earlier but it was far more dazzling and expensive, made entirely of fine cream silk and gold brocade. The sleeves barely went over my shoulders, so my arms were covered in matching gloves that went up just past my elbows. In my hair, they twisted in pieces of golden threads and, after pulling a piece of hair from each side of my head, one of the maids fastened it all together with a golden clip.

I was beginning to feel dizzy from lack of air as the maids finished arranging my skirts and moved away so Andréa could look at me. She'd already been done up in a long black gown and layers of gaudy jewelry, her throat, wrists, ears and fingers covered in everything from rubies to topaz to diamonds; I began to feel thankful for my simple gold choker and bracelet.

"Away with you," Andréa said to the maids, and they all curtsied and took their leave so only the two of us remained. Then my aunt turned on me. "Christine, I know that you have been rather distraught lately," she said in feigned solemnity.

"Distraught?" I snapped back, the tone of her voice twisting my nerves.

"I will not hear that tone, Christine!" Andréa responded curtly. "You know that tonight will determine your future and that of our country. The Comte is seriously interested in making marital arrangements for you and his son. Your uncle and I both will be extremely disappointed if this falls through due to your actions this eve. Do you understand me?" I stared angrily at Andréa, trying desperately to think of a witty, cultured, but snide remark.

Unable to come up with something, I replied, "Yes, Andréa," and bowed my head in defeat.

"Good," my aunt said, turning and walking from the room, calling back to me, "Come along then!" I took a long, deep breath before following Andréa out of my room and to the grand staircase. We descended in silence, only Franz waiting for us at the landing, and upon reaching him, his wife snatched his arm with her spindly gloved hands and clung onto him. The way the two of them looked just disgusted me and I prayed that I would not end up like that with the Vicomte.

I felt like my legs were going to give way when we reached the door to the receiving room and one of the butlers bowed to us, opening the door. Cautiously, I followed my aunt and uncle in and allowed the door to close behind me. The receiving room was not as large as many of the other rooms in the palace, only large enough for a few recliners, a table, and a decently-sized sofa, so from the moment I walked in I could see the two men sitting mere feet from me.

The sounds of our entrance caused both men to look our way and then stand, and when they did I couldn't help but stare fixedly at the younger. If I had had any doubts that the man was Raoul, they flew from my mind in an instant. Everything about him was exactly the same as it had been the day he and I had met, although his features were a little more professional looking, his hair impeccably groomed and his face perfectly clean, his stature natural and tall.

"Ah, my dear Comte Philippe, it is a pleasure to see you twice in the same day!" Franz said, shaking the Comte's hand amicably. My uncle turned to the Vicomte, who bowed courteously before turning to my aunt's voice.

"You have grown up since last I saw you, Raoul!" she said, confirming for me that it was not some illusion that the Vicomte was who I thought he was. "And more handsome, I might add!"

"Thank you, your Majesty," Raoul said, his voice deep but not heavy, just as I remembered it being.

I realized that I had been staring when the Comte's voice, seemingly out of nowhere, said, "And this must be your niece!" Shocked at mention of me, I turned abruptly to see the Comte watching me intently. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he continued, taking my gloved hand and kissing it. "I have heard wonderful things of you."

Though I highly doubted the truthfulness in his last statement, for Franz and Andrea would never speak highly of me unless it was absolutely necessary, I feigned flattery and curtsied to the Comte. "I am honored to meet you as well, Comte Philippe." As I stood up from my curtsy, I saw a pair of shimmering blue eyes fixed upon me, and I turned to see the Vicomte staring at me. I offered a soft and discreet smile, trying to look as though I was not focused upon him as he was me.

"She is lovelier than you let on, Franz!" the Comte said kindly, motioning to my uncle. I turned to watch his response, only to find him blushing, and I held back a snicker. "Christine, is it?" I nodded gently to him as he continued, "May I introduce my son Raoul?" My eyes fell upon the Vicomte whose gaze, I noticed, was still fixed upon me.

Raoul reached out and took my hand, his touch soft but strong as I remembered it. "I am honored to meet you, my lady," he said, kissing my knuckles in a most gentlemanly fashion, his eyes never leaving mine. "I have the strangest feeling that we've…" I swallowed hard, knowing what he would say if given the opportunity, but the Vicomte was interrupted by a voice from outside that turned out to be Antoinette's.

"Your Majesties, my lords, dinner is served in the dining hall," she said, curtsying to the group of us. We began to walk to the door, my aunt and uncle first, followed by the Comte.

I reached the doorway at the same time as Raoul, who pulled back to let me pass, but I said, my eyes on Antoinette, "One moment." He bowed to me and continued on as Antoinette took hold of my arm.

"Christine, you have the strangest look in your eyes!" Antoinette told me. "Are you lovesick or is it something else?" I stared at her quizzically, wondering what she could mean. "Does it involve the Vicomte?"

Not wanting to tell the truth of how I'd run out into the city, I lied, "No, Antoinette! I…"

"It is another man, then?" My eyes grew wide at her accusation.

"When have I had the time of day for another man, Antoinette?" It was absolutely true that I had not the time for an affair, but I felt my insides churn at the thought of continuing my lying about the Angel of Music's existence. I had kept it up for near six years and I would not let it get out after so long. "Why do you say that?"

"I am like your mother, Christine, and I worry for you. You've had such a dreamy look in your eyes and before you go off with the Vicomte I need to know." Looking at Antoinette and the sincere expression upon her face, I began to feel just terrible about keeping up the lies regarding the Angel of Music. I had promised him that I would not speak of him to others, but I felt like a wicked person all the same, especially because it was Antoinette, the one woman who had ever truly believed in me.

"Antoinette, if there were anyone else you know that I would tell you," I said firmly, squeezing her arm amicably and walking towards the dining hall, my skirts making soft crinkling noises on the tiled floor. Upon entering the dining hall, I found that the others had taken their seats, the only one vacant being beside Raoul, which did not put me in any state of surprise.

I made my way graciously to my seat, where a courtier pulled the chair from the table for me. As I sat, I felt the Vicomte's piercing blue gaze upon me once again, and, though it was disconcerting on the one-hand, it made my face flush what was certainly an unbecoming crimson from what was either flattery or embarrassment.

As servers brought forth our meal from the kitchens, I made many a futile attempt not to look at Raoul beside me, but my willpower failed me. It was not long before I was glancing over at the handsome young man, and the looks gradually became longer until they were nearly all-out stares. I could simply not get enough of his fair skin, golden hair and piercing blue eyes like the sea!

The meal commenced at a dreadfully slow pace, Franz and Andréa forcing conversation with Comte Philippe. Afraid of what would happen if and when Raoul and I struck up conversation, I remained silent.

Finally, the plates were cleared away, and I felt my stomach flip as Sir Reyer made his appearance through a side door. I cast quick glance towards Andréa and saw her nod to me, at which point I rose from my chair and walked towards the violinist on shaky legs. The four others at the table fell into complete silence as I positioned myself beside Sir Reyer and he began to play.

From my lips spilled the aria I had chosen, mixing with the accompaniment of the violin and filling the dining hall. The words resonated within me, so close to my heart, so like my life. "Look at me and tell me who I am, why I am, what I am. Call me a fool, and it's true I am! I don't know who I am." Sir Reyer played on as I looked at the faces of Franz, Andréa, the Comte and Raoul, all staring at me with incredulous looks. "It's such a shame! I'm such a sham! No one knows who I am! Am I the face of the future? Am I the face of the past? Am I the one who must finish last?"

As I sang, I saw Raoul's stunningly blue eyes watching me intently, glazed over, his face showing his entrancement, and I couldn't help but smile to myself. "Look at me and tell me who I am, why I am, what I am. Will I survive? Who will give a damn if no one knows who I am? Nobody knows, not even you! No one knows who I am…" My voice trailed off as Sir Reyer completed his accompaniment, a sad, lilting lullaby.

It took a few moments, but the four others finally began to applaud me and I curtsied to them, seeing Raoul's gaze boring into me once more. A crimson flush threatened to stain my cheeks, and I let it, happy as I had not been for nearly my whole life. Angel of Music, I thank you!

I took a step to return to my seat when Raoul was at my side, offering me his arm to escort me back to my place at the table. My cheeks grew even redder as I accepted and allowed myself to be led back to my seat. However, before I could sit, my aunt, uncle and the Comte all rose and came around the table to me.

"Your Highness, you truly have the voice of an angel! I've never heard such!" the Comte complimented me, taking my hand and kissing it.

His mention of "an angel" prompted me to begin, "Well, it's funny you should say that, my lord, for I…" but I suddenly stopped, quite aware of how close I was to revealing my secret of the Angel of Music. I bit my lip, which was certainly unladylike, and fell silent.

The Comte seemed to discard my comment, thankfully, and went on, "Who, might I ask, trained you so impeccably?" My mouth went quite dry at the Comte's question and the room became awkwardly quiet. I could not possibly lie; my aunt and uncle would pick up on it in a heartbeat. But to tell the truth?

"I…" I began shakily, but Franz interrupted.

"She is, I daresay, a rare but natural talent, Comte Philippe, and has been rehearsing for this with Sir Reyer," my uncle stated, not entirely untruthfully. The Comte's eyes darted from my uncle to me and back again, speculating as to if one of us was lying, but saw no peculiarities.

"Your Highness," Comte Philippe said, addressing me, "I am about to make you an offer that you can choose to accept or decline of your own volition." I was unsure if this was to be his proposing that Raoul and I be married or something else, and the unknowingness made my whole body shake. "I will be holding a gala upon the new month and it would surely be a joy to have you sing for my guests." Absolutely speechless, I looked tentatively at my aunt and uncle to silently request their opinion. As I did so, however, Philippe added to Franz, "We can discuss all…other arrangements at that time, your Majesty."

"Christine will be there, Philippe, you can be most certain," Andréa chirped, hanging onto Franz's arm and the Comte's every word. "I can ascertain that the company will be respectable?"

"The most," Comte Philippe replied, and it was only then that I realized I still held Raoul's arm. I would have released myself from his grasp to relieve us both of the awkwardness, but his hold was firm and I couldn't at all budge. "There is one, however," the Comte said, "that the Comtesse insisted I invite. A certain Lord Destler; says he was a friend of her family and that we must invite him and his sour reputation."

"Sour reputation?" I asked quizzically, glad that the subject has been changed but still all too aware of Raoul's arm linked with my own.

"From the little that I know he is of noble birth but does not at all play the part. An architect by profession, the Comtesse tells me, and a talented one but not divine company by any means." Comte Philippe pauses. "There were rumors a few years back that he had committed murder upon one of his own groundskeepers, but the authorities disproved it."

"Then why on Earth would Mother still fell an attachment to this Lord Destler?" I was startled by Raoul's voice; he'd hardly spoken at all. "He certainly does not seem good company!"

"Quite the contrary," the Comte responded to his son, and I could tell that Franz and Andréa were quite displeased at the prospect of his attendance at the Comte's gala. "I hear that he is quite the charismatic fellow when he wishes to be, but sarcastic as one couldn't possibly believe. But the fact remains that I've invited him at my wife's insistence and there is nothing left to be done about him. We shall just have to deal with it like the honorable people we are, do you not agree, your Majesty?" he stated to my uncle.

Another uncomfortable silence followed before the Comte started, "No matter! The gala will be quite lovely and shall be made even lovelier with Her Highness Christine's voice, don't you agree?" My aunt and uncle nodded unemotionally, simply agreeing with the Comte's comments on me. "I am quite afraid that we must take our leave, your Majesties," he stated, moving towards the door. The rest followed, and Raoul finally disengaged himself from my arm. "Raoul," he continued, addressing his son, "you had a pleasant time I trust?"

"Of course, Father," he replied in his cultured but still boyish voice. As the Comte continued to speak with Franz and Andréa before his departure, Raoul turned to me and I felt my heart drop into my stomach. "You sang beautifully, my lady," his voice washed over me as he bent and kissed my knuckles. "I impress upon you that I will be looking forward to our next encounter every day 'til it comes." He rose again and our eyes locked, pristine blue mixing with chocolate brown.

"As will I, my lord," I replied, curtsying and seeing Raoul to the door. He and his father took their cloaks and hats from the two courtiers waiting to show them out to their carriage, and I found it the opportune moment to gaze unwaveringly at the dashing young Vicomte. He truly was one of the handsomest men I'd ever laid eyes upon, and one of the kindest and most gentlemanly; he could have had any woman in the world as his bride, and I was the one who would have him. Me!

Raoul and Comte Philippe took their leave from the palace and Franz and Andréa were up the staircase and into the master suite nearly instantaneously after the great doors had closed behind them. Taking the opportunity to sneak off, I hurried down to the servants quarters, even dressed as I was, and found my way to the chapel. I closed the door behind me and arranged myself upon the floor, careful not to dirty my dress.

I lit the candles, said a quick prayer to the Virgin Mother and began to speak softly. "Angel, I thank you dearly for this glorious opportunity! The Comte wishes for me to sing for his guests, my Angel, can you believe it!"

"It is hardly a shock to me, my sweet," the Angel's voice replied, coming out of nowhere, as per the usual. His addressing me in a much more informal way caused me to shiver; never had I been talked to by a man in such a way! Man…he is an Angel! A divinity! Let it be!

"You are too kind," I responded, blushing.

"Do not say such things, Christine," the Angel continued. "I only tell you what is true, and it is anything but a lie that your voice is astounding." The flattery did not cease!

"Without your guidance, my Angel, would I have succeeded as I did tonight? You and your presence have gifted me with song, and I owe to you all that has and will happen because of it," I said truthfully, raising my head to look upon the fresco of the Virgin Mary, hoping that I might know where my Angel was.

"Do not thank me just yet, Christine. There is still much written in your destiny that has yet to happen; save your praises." His words struck a nerve in me, though I was unsure why. As I prepared to request more knowledge from him, I heard the door being pushed open and I turned my head to see a startled Marguerite standing on the threshold.

"Christine!" she cried shrilly as I rose hurriedly to my feet. "What have you been doing in here?" Marguerite ran to me and took my hands in hers. It seemed that the deceit was up.

Sighing deeply, I said quietly, "Marguerite, what I tell you now you must hold close to your heart as a secret. Nobody, not your mother, not anyone, can know about this." She nodded emphatically, and I added, "One moment." I blew out the candles, made the sign of the Cross, and returned to Marguerite.

"Come; we'll talk in the corridor," Marguerite said to me, and I looked at her skeptically; corridors were not suitable places to tell secrets! "Oh, don't fret! Not a soul is walking about at this hour!"

"Then why were you?" I asked her.

"I was up to get some water when I heard your voice," Marguerite replied, but quickly added, "so tell me what's been going on!"

I took in a deep breath and began. "It was past six years ago, Marguerite, when I first came across the chapel. I had thought that it was a broom closet or the like, but upon closer inspection I found that it was indeed a chapel, and so I went in. I asked the Virgin Mary for something to bring joy into my life, and what I asked for was music.

"At that moment, there was this cold draft about the room and then this voice – a man's voice! – that asked me why I was crying! It was out of nowhere, Marguerite, and it said that it was the Angel of Music!" I was fully worked up by then in telling my story after years of silence.

Marguerite scoffed, "The Angel of Music, you say? Christine, you must have been dreaming this up! There is no Angel of…"

"But Marguerite, it's true, I swear it! Do you think I would lie to you about this? Why do you think my voice has improved so greatly? How do you think I learned to sing the way I do? It was because of him, Marguerite, the Angel of Music!" We stopped walking and my friend turned to look at me, her eyes boring into me.

"I do not believe you," she said firmly, crossing her arms. "I expected these kinds stories from the other servant girls, Christine, but not from you. If my mother knew…" I cut her off sharply.

"Your mother can't know, Marguerite! I promised the Angel that I wouldn't tell…"

"The Angel of Music does not exist, Christine!" she said in a much louder voice than I would've hoped, though it was not at all a shout. "You've been led on for all of these years by some cruel joke and I will not have a part in it." She began to walk away down another corridor towards the room she shared with Antoinette when I stopped her with my arm.

"You wanted to know what went on in the chapel, Marguerite, and I've told you. Whether you believe me or not, that is the truth by me." She stared at me for a long moment before turning on her heel and continuing down the corridor while I went up towards the main part of the palace, thinking all the while on her words, the Angel's, and the prospect of singing at the Comte's gala in front of what was sure to be hundreds of nobles from all parts. And in front of Raoul. I would sing for the man who was sure to be my future husband!

With that thought in mind, I ascended the staircase to the upper floors of the palace and retired to my room, heart aglow and mind spinning.

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