Soon Erik had let Christine Daae' s younger sister back to hallway of chambers and left her.
Making her way to her room, Rosalie noticed outside of her small Windows it was dawn, so she had enough time to rest before she would be woken by her sister or another helper.
Sitting out her maid outfit she laid back in bed, her mind wondering about this mysterious phantom and why he was so kind to her when he was supposed to be a murder, a disfigured demon.
Soon her eyes grew heavy, and she found herself drifting into sleep.
Rosalie had been up most of the morning, scrubbing floors, helping the maids cook, helping with costumes. Her day being busy from the start.
It was the opening night for Christine to debt so she had to be alike all the other maids, but Rosalie wasn't just a made. She was everything.
Where she wanted to admit it to herself or not, she was uncredited for all her work. She even helped out in the stables, and for what? A small pay of a seamstress salary, but she had a nice room and felt over humbled.
By now it was nightfall and everyone was in their chambers readying for bed, as Rosalie was walking on the stage, singing. Which was quite rare, she felt as I'd her sister held the musical talent and charm, while she held.. Well nothing.
She had heard her sister sing it so many times, whisper it at night to sleep or when she was praying to their beloved father,
"Angel of music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory. Angel of music, hide no longer. Come to me, strange Angel."
Rosalie let her fingers touch the red soft curtains in the stage as she such without care, repeating the verse over.
Some time she had wished an angel would come out and take her, away. Take her away from this hellish, useless life. All she was, was a freak.
Suddenly, a voice fine as silk, "Brava my dear," had spoke, making Rosalie turn around and look upon the stage, and seats for audiences; no one.
"Oh my dear, I am no where among those places," the voice said, sounding amused at her confusion, his voice so families.
"Where are you then?" Rosalie asked, her voice sifted and somewhat nervous and shaky.
"Where I am my dear, does not matter. I would just like to understand why you're not performing," the vice said, ringing through the empty opera house.
"I-I take no lessons, Monsieur," Rosalie replied just enough for the mysterious man to hear, but her voice was still timid. Her innocent darkness searching around once more.
"Be in your quarters in five minutes, I shall be there for your lessons." The voice instructed, more saying she will take lessons instead of having the option to.
"Yes sir," Rosalie said politely, sensing the presence was gone, she scurried to her room.
This was far from the last time she would see him...