Disclaimer: the opera is based on the one in Paris which inspired Gaston Leroux's Phantom of the Opera which in turn inspired aFABULOUS play which you all should see, and now (despite what the critics say) a GREAT movie which you also all should see.
Clavel: Wow! I am sooo glad you're enjoying it. You're review almost made me cry! Thank you so much!
Erin: Thank you, thank you, thank you! Soooo glad you like it. I'm trying to draw out the relationship to make it seem more authentic, glad to hear it's working. Yes, I am a musician. I'm a singer, harpist, and occaisonally I bang out a few notes on the piano. I do spend much more time practicing my instruments than studying music theory, in fact I'm ashamed of how little theory I do know. However, I know that on a university level music theory, and music skills are major classes at least equal in importance to practicing. Plus, as a singer you can't practice too long or your voice goes dead. I get what your saying though and will work on it.
Special thanks to Tiger Lily21, Rowenhood, sealednectar, StiaphMarie.
Enjoy!
A week passed and Morena began to gradually adjust to her new life. At the end of a week she came to expect servants to address her respectfully but she felt no less awkward and uncomfortable when they did. She'd given up trying to make conversation with them because their respectful, proper distance made it impossible. By devoting her entire day to music she made great strides in a week. She'd picked up some of the books on her bookshelves and discovered that they were in languages she used to know. By reading them aloud the languages began to take shape again in her mind. Each day the Baron took Morena out to see different parts of the city though the place she wanted to see most, the Opera house, he wouldn't show her just yet.
So, Morena was happy. At long last she was happy. Her days were filled with doing what she loved and were spent with one of the few people on earth she cared for who, she believed, truly did enjoy her company.
At the end of the first week in the afternoon just after the Baron and Morena had lunched, while they shared a few minutes of conversation in his office before getting back to studying, one of the servants came in and announced the arrival of Signor De Dremas.
"Ah, wonderful. Show him up immediately."
When the manservant left he continued to Morena, "My assistant. He must have just arrived in the city. Wonderful, we'll finally discuss the new opera. I'm glad you'll finally meet him, we're always together when an opera goes into production which means you'll be seeing plenty of him as well. Be sure to hold out your hand when I introduce you."
Before he could say anything else the door opened and a tall young man with light hair and brown eyes came in.
"Antonio!" the Baron said
"Rodrigo!" the assistant replied. And rapidly the two men shared a rapid embrace and began talking rapidly in greeting. Morena, out of habit, had stood up when Antonio entered and stood quietly observing the two friends catch up with each other before Antonio turned to her.
"Ah," he said, "so this must be the Morena you've written me so much about." he looked her over critically
"Yes," the Baron replied, "allow me to present Signorina Morena Arzecci, future star of the musical world."
"Mmm. We'll see." he replied with much less animation than he had used a moment ago in talking to his friend. He crossed to Morena and she held out her hand as instructed. Antonio de Dremas took it and bowed over it politely. Morena felt awkward when he did it but not in the way she had when the Baron had done so. When he straightened he didn't let go of her hand but turned it over and stared at it critically with a frown he made no attempt to hide. When she realized what he was doing she pulled her hand away and stared at the floor, blood rushing to her face in embarrassment.
"So, it's true," Antonio said, "your protege really is a servant. I thought you were joking when you wrote and told me that you'd found an indentured servant with the voice of an angel. A servant you want to sing opera. Are you out of your mind Rodrigo? She can't sing at the Opera Parisine. What were you thinking?" He was incredulous.
"I am not out of my mind! Who do you think you are? Let's not forget who had to take odd-jobs secretly to pay for University."
"It isn't my fault Itolni doesn't take care of its nobility."
"You haven't even heard her sing. How dare you judge her because her hands aren't as fine as yours!"
"How dare you take this girl out of her place based on a few months of music lessons!"
"Antonio," the Baron said trying to calm himself, "let's go into the music room so you can hear her sing. I promise you, such a second soprano you have never heard nor will you ever again hear." He extended his hand to Morena and guided her into the music room.
"Don't let him bother you Morena." he whispered to her. Then he settled himself at the piano and told her to sing Le plezone marille. She did so. Flawlessly. When she finished the Baron turned to Antonio.
"What do you say now?"
"Well," he said simply, apparently too shocked to speak for a moment, "fine then. She has remarkable talent. Her voice is lovely but cries out with inexperience."
"That's why we're going to give her a small part to start."
"Fine then. Have her sing. I'm still dead set against it but there was never any reasoning with you. Just remember I never supported this thing. The real question is what are you going to tell people about her? People will never accept an opera diva who started out as a servant. They'll boycott the Opera if they find out."
"No one has to know."
"You've got to tell them something. They're going to ask."
They were talking about Morena but she felt as if she weren't in the room. They were in that world she didn't understand.
"You're right. Since you're so outspoken today why don't you think of something?"
Antonio studied Morena for a moment.
"Where are you from?"
"Colista." She answered.
"That poor little port town?"
"It's only poor because the men making money off the ships won't condescend to live near the ones making them that money."
"That won't do," he said ignoring her comment, "We'll have to keep you Itolnian though. You have an accent." he thought again, "I have it. You are the only child of an impoverished ship owner from Parino who lost his fortune when his ships were lost at sea. It happens, yes?"
"Indeed." Morena answered.
"You're father died shortly thereafter. Rodrigo was passing through Parino when he heard singing from the church. He stepped inside to find out where it was from and discovered you singing at your father's funeral. After training you for a few years he brought you here for your debut. Since you were impoverished your manners are a little rough around the edges and you can't afford your own flat. What do you say?"
"I never go to Parino." the Baron said skeptically.
"Neither does anyone else. It's perfect."
"Fine then."
"Good. Your name then Morena will be-"
"Morena Elissa Arzeci." she answered forcefully. Antonio looked at her in surprise at her forcefulness. "If you need to rewrite my past to still gossiping tongues so be it but I refuse to let you change anything else about me. My father gave me my name. And my father really is dead. I won't blacken his memory by taking away what he gave me unless it truly is necessary."
The Baron smiled proudly. She would hold her own in this world.
"No one with any money would name their daughter something like Morena," Antonio protested, "it's obnoxiously exotic. How did you get it?"
"My father thought it had something to do with the word 'queen' because the Old Itolnian word for queen is Rena."
"Your father was wrong."
"That doesn't matter."
"You can't keep that name."
It was a battle of wills now. The issue was much larger than the one being discussed.
"I will."
"Perhaps you simply won't sing then."
"That isn't for you to decide."
"Remember who you're talking to." he seethed, grabbing her wrist. This was a delicate issue to Antonio. He was a count and Rodrigo only a Baron yet he held the reins.
"Remember who you are talking to Antonio."
"Ah yes, forgive me. The servant maid Morena Arzeci." He said sarcastically, "how disrespectful of me."
"The future star of the musical world and my protege. It isn't necessary for her to change her name therefore she will not."
"Well once again your word outweighs mine despite the fact you're only a Baron and I'm heir to a Counthood. But the minx must have bewitched you, Rodrigo. You wouldn't have taken the side of a servant six months ago."
That was the last straw for the Baron.
"That's enough Antonio!" he shouted, rising from his chair, "Morena is my student, my friend, and she is going to sing whether you approve or not. If you don't approve I suggest you keep it to yourself or I'll find myself another assistant."
"You'll risk my friendship to get this girl on the stage."
"Yes. I care about music more than anything, you of all people know that. I thought we shared enough friendship for you to respect my decision. I thought you were enough of a gentlemen to respect Morena. I will not have you stand in the way of Morena's success."
"Very well then. I will stifle my misgivings for friendship's sake." he said with a sardonic smile.
The Baron sighed. Why did Antonio have to play the proud aristocrat and make things more difficult than they had to be? Unnecessary tension is not good for artists, he reflected thinking of Morena. She would surely give her opinion of Antonio in detail later on. He dreaded trying to produce an opera with both of them.
"I was planning on showing Morena the Opera today. Will you come?"He said amicably in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.
"Very well. I need to talk to some people there."
"Fine. Morena get your cloak and meet us downstairs. I'll send for the carriage."
The ride to the Opera was filled with tense, awkward silence. Morena was thrilled and excited but also angry and disgusted at this proud nobleman. She was worried too. What if everyone was like this to her?
Her thoughts were distracted by the appearance of the most beautiful building she had ever seen. It was an enormous, rectangular sandstone structure with enormous windows, a large staircase, and statues all over.
"What do you think of your place of employment Morena?" the Baron asked teasingly
"My place of employment?"
"It's the Opera Parissine." Antonio snipped.
"It's amazing. I've never seen anything like it."
The three of them climbed out of the carriage and up the stairs into the building. Morena never imagined such mammoth beauty. All around her was marble. Marble floors and marble walls. Into the walls were dug openings into other hallways. In front of her was a great marble staircase and above her were velvet carpeted hallways and more doors.
"What will you see first the theater or backstage?"
"The theater." she said mesmerized.
She was lead through one of the doors and down corridors until she found herself in an enormous room. On her level were dozens of empty seats. To her left were what the Baron called "Boxes" separated by marble columns. Red velvet was everywhere. And to her right was and enormous stage. A red velvet curtain fell across most of it. In front of the stage was a depression in the floor.
"The orchestra pit." The Baron said.
Here and there were statues of marble and gold. It was beautiful and grand and Morena had to remind herself to breath so she wouldn't pass out from the sheer splendor of it. On that stage in a few months she would sing. This marvel of architecture, art, and culture was to be almost as a home to her. She was overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude and humility and awe.
"You'll be on that stage next week." the baron said.
"Next week?" she asked.
"Next week. You'll need to come so the directors and conductor can hear you sing. Don't worry. There's a fair sized part not taken yet that is surely for you. In a month and a half you'll take command of this building. The world will never forget you."
"It's too much. It's heaven."
"It must be close," the Baron agreed, "and you haven't seen back stage yet. Come."
He opened a door to the pit and descended a small flight of stairs. He led her out of the pit into workshops, hallways, rooms that were empty besides a piano or a mirror with a bar across it. Past dressing rooms and even dormitories. The building was a village unto itself. The Baron told her the foundation was so deep that in the fifth basement there was a lake. The Opera included a school for future dancers and even housed many of them.
Music, Morena mused, is an amazing thing. Transcending time, language, corresponding to every emotion. It can be spectacle or it can be barely perceivable. It is more than art, it is almost religion. And I am to be a part of it, she thought, and finally, standing on the stage of the world-renowned Opera, the realization hit her. What she felt then went beyond happiness. It was completion, fulfillment, a feeling of coming home at last after ages of searching. She had found her place.
Morena's mind was only partially in the confines of the carriage on the way back to the Baron's house but much later she would remember snippets of conversation. She would remember Antonio saying
"This Il Pulchreza your writing. It's appalling. You'll never be able to produce it. If you do you'll be ruined. Don't mix political issues with music. People don't take kindly to this sort of thing."
At the time she hadn't any idea what he was talking about.
