Matter of Honour

Ten Years Later

Raoul de Chagny was at the opera again for she would sing tonight. He still went to her performances, applauded her and send her flowers, acting as if he was just another admirer. He was not and he knew. He knew because she had written him a letter every Christmas and every birthday. She never wrote much, just wished him the best.

He went through one of the corridors leading to the first balcony boxes after the performance, as he suddenly saw her there. Christine wore a nearly white dress, the man at her side was dressed in black. If this was Erik, he was in very bad shape. The man looked like a walking skeleton - nothing new in that - but the way he walked gave away his frail health. He leaned heavily on his cane and was barely able to drag his left leg with him. It was like he could barely control his left leg. His left arm was hanging at his side, the hand trembling, a golden ring on his finger.

Raoul went to them and greeted Christine with much enthusiasm, completely ignoring her companion. The managers of the opera - always concerned about the well-being of their diva, the lady who was named "supreme soprano of the world" and "primadonna assoluta" and "best singer the world has ever heard" - felt obligued to introduce him:

"Madame Christine, the Vicomte de Chagny, and Marquis de Rais."

Raoul stared at Erik. He wore a black dress suit, as everyone in the opera would, but no top-hat. His head was completely bald and the face covered with a white beard, not a white beard like wise old men often had, this white looked dirty even when properly cleaned. His skin was grey and had brown freckles, making his appearance even more macabre. The nose - it was a clever made false one, Raoul was sure of that.

"You, sir, have no right to be in my presence," Raoul snapped.

"Raoul!" Christine rebuked him immediately, but in vain. Ten years of carefully nurturing his hatred for Erik got the better of Raoul.

"You are a liar and a thief. A coward. Your mere presence is an offence to every gentleman in this room," he hissed, but kept his voice down to avoid a scandal.

"Monsieur..." one of the managers tried to intervene.

Erik remained stoic at the insult. He should demand satisfaction now, but he did not. He merely nodded with a weary smile. Raoul noted that only one corner of Erik's mouth moved, the other one remained as it was and he was slightly drooling without even noticing.

"Monsieur, I apologize..." one of the managers began.

"No," Erik cut him short, "This man has every right to call me all names he pleases. Monsieur de Chagny, Messieurs, Madame - please excuse me." He left with a stiff bow, walking carefully and slowly, heavily leaning on his cane. One step with the right leg, move the cane with the right hand, then he dragged the left leg somehow under his body, swayed a bit testing if the leg would hold, then moved the right leg again. An odd way to move, slowly, painfully even for those who watched, but he clenched his teeth and remained upright, not needing the help of another person.

"What was that?" one of the managers asked as the other one hurried to assist Christine who had suddenly paled visibly and was close to hyperventilating.

"I'm sorry," Raoul said with a deep bow, "please accept my apology. May I invite you to a drink as a humble token of my embarrassment for my bad behavior?"

To every bystanders surprise the diva accepted graciously as a queen regent.

"This was not nice," Christine rebuked Raoul as she sat down on her chair at the vanity in her dressingroom. There were so many flowers, they had to use the corridor to put them up as well.

She took the glass of champagne Raoul handed her with a deep bow. "I am really sorry, Christine - may I still call you Christine?"

She laughed. "O yes. Everyone calls me Christine nowadays. I don't use surnames, all Europe knows me just as 'Christine' and I like that very much."

"I'm glad to find you well," Raoul answered stiffly.

"O Raoul. It has been such a long time - and we have so much to talk about. But not now and not here - would you come to my house tomorrow?"

"Do you think that's a good idea? With Erik around?" Raoul was skeptical.

"Why not? It would not be proper if he was not at home. We can talk in private, don't worry, I'll arrange that with him. But now I have to take him home, I shouldn't have taken him here anyways. It's too much for him now."

"When can I be there?" Raoul asked, confused about what had happened.

"Right after breakfast - that is 11 o'clock," she gave him a wide smile, "At least for singers who stay up all night."

Raoul knew her elegant house in Paris with the large trees. The trees kept everyone from seeing what was going on in the large gardens.

A maid opened the door and lead Raoul to the lavishly furnished parlor where Christine already waited for him.

This time she greeted him with a kiss on the cheek like she had done as a child.

"Where is...?" Raoul refused to speak Erik's name.

"He's in the garden. Sitting in the sun is one of the few things he can enjoy nowadays," Christine said and looked out of the window. A figure was sitting in the garden in a grandfather chair. He was wrapped in warm blankets and a nurse was at his side. A mongrel dog was sitting at his feet chewing on a bone.

"He's ill," Raoul observed.

Christine nodded. "Last year he suffered apoplectic seizure. It is a miracle he's still alive, even more so that he can speak and walk again."

"Many things happened since last time we spoke."

"Ten years, Raoul, ten years. I read about your adventure in the newspapers. They named you a hero - I was so proud of you," she answered with a smile and sat down on the couch.

"The expedition was a failure," Raoul sighed, "Unfortunately. I was the first one to see that and urged the others to return without trying to reach our main goal. So we came back, the ship and crew - we lost only two men. But we didn't accomplish anything in our mission. I do not like being falsely called hero when the expedition was complete failure."

"It wasn't," Christine replied gently, "There was another expedition. They decided to abandon their mission and return home only two days later - the ship was struck in the ice and crushed, their bodies were found two years later by the rescue mission team. You saved everyone's life on your ship."

"I didn't come here to discuss my adventures as a naval officer. I read everything about your career, Christine. They love you, the world is at your feet, everyone adores you. The soprano of the century - without any rival in the whole world! What a success!"

"Thank you."

They fell silent, lost in their thoughts. Christine smiled as she looked out of the window and saw Erik gently caressing the dog. It was a mixed breed stray dog he had taken in and that dog followed him everywhere, even slept in his bed. "I guess we have all day to catch up after such a long time," she said and looked at Raoul, expecting him to begin his tale.

When Raoul remained silent she said: "Raoul, do you know what really happened ten years ago? That fateful day you were supposed to present yourself at the chosen field of honor and I married Erik?"

Raoul nodded. "Yes, I do. My brother told me everything before I left for the expedition to the antarctic. He could not live with his betrayal any longer and was afraid I might die and he never had a chance to apologize."

Christine chuckled. "He lasted much longer than Erik. Erik could not keep his secret, it was too heavy on his conscience. He confessed everything to me three days after the wedding, sank to his knees and begged my forgiveness."

"O. I never thought he might have a tender conscience," Raoul replied.

Christine was suddenly very serious again. "He does not. He's not a good man, never has been. It was very hard to live at his side, especially in the beginning."

Raoul leaned back, steeling himself for her tale. He expected the worst and knew that she needed to unburden herself. She had no one to talk to - except Erik, who would certainly not react well to her telling him her secret thoughts about him.