Author's Note: Here we are again, Chapter 7 now. I'm trying not to move quickly with the characters. I want to take time for them to develop as well as their relationships. I love Jane Eyre very dearly but I've always been a little confused about how very quickly the nature of their relationship changes. But I suppose when you're Jane Eyre and Edward Rochester time is of no consequence to your relationship. But let's be real, Rochester knew what he was doing, sly little bastard. You don't just dress as a gypsy unless you want to see how the woman you care for feels. But between the choice of Blanche Ingram and Jane Eyre, I'd likely follow in his steps. As with Christine, between her choice of Raoul and Erik, who wouldn't chose the latter. Oh and don't think I've forgotten about Raoul. It won't be long until he joins us. So many wonderful characters to write in! Oh and for those of you who share my affinity for Jane Eyre, if you haven't read it, I recommend The Wide Sargasso Sea. It's essentially about Bertha Mason's downward spiral and basically paints Rochester as her antagonist. But it's wonderful and gives fantastic insight on characters in Jane Eyre. In addition, I'm planning some new stories and I have one in the works inspired by the book and movie Pay it Forward with Kevin Spacey and Helen Hunt. I also have a few short stories I've written that I'll be posting soon. Best!

Masked Man 2: And how fantastic the classic horse meeting is! I wrote one for them but I chose to use that last one. I do want this story to really be influenced by Jane Eyre but I don't want it to be the same. I think while there are some parallels between the stories, they have very different dynamics. I mean Erik essentially kills people to get Christine, not to mention holding her fiancé hostage. Ha! I want her to seem that way. Well for now at least. I think it will give her a better character development. I'm very excited to write her changes as well as Erik's. But not to worry, his sass factor will remain intact.

Child of Music and Dream's: Aha! If only I could say. I don't want to reveal too much before anything really happens, but I will say this. I'm wanting to make it so that Christine is the first woman for Erik, and you can interpret that as you like, I will explain further down the line. But I think it's much more romantic that way, for her to be his first... well everything.

Lucyole: Thank you! I like a bit of humor in my writing, of course I'll be posting as quickly as I can!

And of course, if you notice anything, have any questions, or have suggestions, please let me know!


It was several days before she saw or heard from Mr. Destler. He was a strange man, she could have told anyone that without having even spoken to him. She wasn't one to be quick to judgements and she very often found she enjoyed those she came in contact with. But after such a short and strange meeting she wasn't sure she liked her employer very much. She would need to do more than run into him in the kitchen to know that.

"Miss Daaé?," Victoria broke her thoughts. She had been out of sorts since the night before but she could not use it as an excuse to miss the children's lessons for the day. It was still too early in her employment there.

"I apologize Victoria, what was that?" The young girl was eager to learn, as was her brother. Both were very bright and had proved to be excellent pupils in the short time they had been working with Christine. But where Victoria was confident and boisterous, Iago was afraid and shy. They were almost complete opposites but they made quite a pair. They caused minimal trouble around the house and even offered to assist sometimes.

"May I play the piano Miss Daaé?" She gestured to the grand piano in the corner of the large sitting room and Christine nodded. The girl had completed her work, why not let her enjoy herself for a bit?

Christine turned her attention to the window, noticing the rain still falling outside. At least the thunder and lightening that kept her awake the previous night had ceased. It was a steady rainfall now, almost soothing with its constant tapping on the glass. This was weather she could enjoy. While she lived for warmth and the sun hitting her skin, there was something about the rain she had always loved. True, it kept her confined indoors but it was the ideal time for fires and cozy talks in the dead of night. As a child she would curl up with books on days like this, but once her mother had died, well those had been the most difficult days. But she was a independent woman now, happy and on her to finding herself. No need to dwell in unhappy

In the back she could hear Victoria painfully making her way through a piece while Iago played with a set of model soldiers.

"She is rather terrible is she not?" Christine yelped at a voice behind her.

"Oh I'm sorry dear! I didn't mean to frighten," Christine recognized it to be Mrs. Giry and smiled.

"No need to worry, was simply lost in thought. But she isn't completely beyond hope, she just need practice." Pessimism was not a trait Christine held. Her father and Sarah had often teased her about how optimistic she was. She sometimes feared she was overly optimistic.

"Well Mr. Destler certainly thinks she holds some promise. He's the one who first showed how to play the piano." Christine quirked an eyebrow, she was… surprised by this.

"Is he a very musical man," she asked the woman beside her. Mrs. Giry smiled knowingly, and nodded.

"Very Miss Daaé. He's a great many things, musician, architect, artist. He is many things Miss Daaé," the woman's voice fell near the end. It was as if she knew something, something she left out of the statement. But before Christine could respond, she brightened, "Oh, he arrived late sometime yesterday!"

"Did he?" Christine feigned innocence but she knew better.

"Yes," Mrs. Giry nodded, "he often arrives late in the night. He prefers coming home unannounced, not one for lots of noise about it. But that's why I came here dear. Mr. Destler would like to speak with you in the Red Room." Ah the Red Room. She had only been in one other time and it was exactly as she had expected, red.

"Will the children be alright for a bit while I'm gone?"

"Of course Christine, they're very much preoccupied." Christine nodded and headed down the hall.

It surprised her that he would ask for her. After the strange way they encountered each other in the kitchen she hadn't expected him to want anything to do with her. She was working in a position that required them to come into contact with one another, and really that didn't bother her in the least.

Upon reaching the Red Room Christine raised a hand to knock-

"Don't bother Miss Daaé, you may come in."

"Mrs. Giry said you would like to speak with me sir," she resolved to attempt eye contact for as long as possible but his stare proved to win out. He appeared more menacing now than before. His white mask stood out, stark against his black attire and the red walls of the room. As she entered the room his eyes followed her, almost as though he were stalking her every move.

"Sit," he instructed, gesturing to a nearby seat. "I believe we may have got off on the wrong foot at our last meeting. I wish to rectify that." Surprising indeed.

"Very well, sir." She sat, "How would you like to do that."

"Well I believe the last time met you were going through my kitchen quite late in the night. No?" He smirked at this, she most certainly did not. "No matter, we'll let it slide this time shall we?" She nodded and quirked an eyebrow.

"Tell me Miss Daaé, you're from France, but your name is not french?" This was what he wanted to begin with? Her family's origins?

"Yes, my father is Swedish and my mother was French, they-"

"Was?" Christine was surprised to find he actually appeared interested.

"Yes, sir. She died when I was seven. She had been sick for some time before that, so it was not a surprise when she went. It was a long time ago." She offered a sad smile but did not meet his eyes, while he cleared his throat as a sign of discomfort. They stayed in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes before either made a move to speak.

"... An- and you sir? Are you fr-," she began before he abruptly cut her off, suddenly stern.

"We will not speak of my history. You are not to ask of it is that understood Miss Daaé?" His gaze visibly darkened and he held his fists so tight, they turned white. And just as quickly as his temper flared, he was calm again. "Our dear Mrs. Giry tells me you enjoy music, and literature, and art among other things," he waved a hand in dismissal of the last part.

"Yes sir," she nodded, though still confused over his mercurial temperament, she remained wary. "I am… interested in those subjects," she finished lamely before beginning again. "That is to say, I have taken a great interest in these areas, particularly music. My mother was the one… well she instilled a great love of music in me, among other things." This time her eyes rose to meet his and she found he had a look of thoughtful confusion. It was almost as if he were reassessing his original thoughts of her.

"Sir?" She was slightly worried to alone in a room with a man she did not know and to be honest was slightly frightened of. His eyes were constantly cold and seemed to follow her every move. Christine attempted to do the same to him and this time she held it, attempting to examine him.

"Miss Daaé," his tone was cold and collected once again and she steeled herself for his next words. "Do you often find it difficult to look into the eyes of those you are speaking with, or is it only when you are in my presence?" He narrowed his eyes at her, clearly expecting a response.

"I- no… sir," Christine paused to collect herself before responding with something she might regret. "No sir, I am simply unfamiliar with being in the company of others, particularly men. You sir, are no exception." Strong. You must show him strength and not falter, she thought to herself.

"A lie Miss Daaé, like most women, you do quite well with weaving tales. Tell me Miss Daaé, your gaze is… trying to be direct. Do you think me handsome Miss Daaé?" He waved a hand for flourish and sat back with a smug look of satisfaction. Directness had not always been one of Christine's strong suites but she believed in her honest heart and tongue. They had done her well before.

"No sir."

"No? Ha! Miss Daaé, you are quite a different one." She once again did not meet his eyes.

"I am simply honest sir as I am true to myself. You asked and I answered, nothing more." She raised her chin as if to show she could not be beat so easily. He still held a look of mischief, to her great surprise even a small smile. However, just as quickly as it arrived, it left.

"You should get back to the children Miss Daaé. They have grown quite a bit under your care and Mrs. Giry speaks highly of you. Do not prove her wrong." He stood suddenly and she followed suit, watching him.

"I wish you a good day Miss Daaé," he nodded and left.

To be sure Christine decided she did not like him. He was cold and guarded, traits she did not find attractive in a friend or companion. With this final thought she left to return to the children, all the while thinking of the man she knew and Mr. Erik Destler.