Chapter 11

- Success always comes when preparation meets opportunity. ~ Henry Hartman -

Paris, France – January 1875

Chattering voices filled the rehearsal hall, each trying to overtake the other in an attempt to claim dominion in the conversation. All those who had been in attendance at call backs were now gathered together, waiting to be handed their parts. Claire Tulio and her little entourage of admirers were making the most noise in the room. The young Italian singer had successfully segregated Madison from the rest of the young performers. It was all well and fine with the young American girl. It gave her more time to read the books that Philibert had so lovingly collected for her. She currently sat in a wooden chair against in the farthest corner of the back wall in the hall, engrossed in Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days. It was sort of a shame she has read through it so quickly. She brought it on every trip back in to Paris for lessons with Erik, thought about getting back to reading while she should have been focusing on her breathing. That had incurred a few lectures from a rather irritated Phantom. Madison brought her attention back to the book with a sigh. Some H.G Wells would be great to include in her little collection, but she wasn't sure of his publishing dates. If this whole charade of a casting meeting ended soon, Christine would let her travel alone to the book store. Maybe she could get a first edition of Les Misérables…

The logic in her mind was screaming at her not to get comfortable. She should be trying to find a way home. Madison pushed the uncomfortable thoughts aside, shifting in her seat. Her eyes darted up from the printed words at the crowd of people in front of her. She placed a finger on the page she was reading and gently closed the book on it before looking properly around. She knew almost no one in this room. With all the commotion in the nearly two months she had been here, there hadn't been a lot of time to be social outside of the demented love triangle that encircled her. Claire had taken care of her window of opportunity as well, she was sure. If there wasn't a vicious rumor about her boinking Roaul's brains out backstage, she might actually feel a little hurt. Honestly, how could a nobody rise up in the opera's ranks so quickly if they weren't sleeping with the patron? The thought made the girl sigh a little as she returned to her book. Some things never changed really. There were always going to be people who couldn't handle themselves in public.

Her attention was drawn away from her reading as some of the older members got up to glad-hand the managers who had just walked in. They were waiting on the Comte and Comtesse to arrive, as a courtesy said Firmin. It was odd that it was taking them so long to walk in to the room. They had arrived the same time as Madison, in the same carriage. Christine must be having some sort of difficulties. She looked rather pale this morning at the breakfast table with dark shadows under her eyes. It was sweet the way Raoul was fussing over her, getting her the tea she likes and the right sort of toast. It was becoming more and more apparent that they were made for each other. Raoul was in something of a rough patch with the new baby coming and the responsibilities of his title. Returning to the Opera perhaps wasn't the best move for them. Erik wasn't helping anything either. It felt as though he was intentionally putting stress on them. He probably was and using her as some sort of wedge to drive between them. Would he do that to his beloved Christine? Madison had no answer to that question. She never dared ask just how things actually ended between them or if the events that played out in the story from her time were even close to accurate.

Oh Erik. What a sheltered, selfish man he was. Not like he had anyone to teach him to act otherwise though. He was definitely an all or nothing sort of man who abhorred the thought of anyone looking at what he claimed as his. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen a sign of his presence all morning. No note, no shadow in the odd hallway, nothing from the man who claimed to be her tutor. Madison had expected something from him. Maybe he was hiding behind a wall, listening in to the room. She glanced at a vent in the floor, half expecting to see a pair of eyes looking back at her. Nothing but darkness. It wasn't like she needed him to be around for her. She could handle this on her own. It just felt odd with the way that he had carried on the night before about her needing to be more committed to his teachings or something. The girl hardly remembered what was said in the cover of the night. Probably better that way.

He had said something about her needing to dress well for this occasion. She at least remembered his insistence on that. Christine and the usual maids had helped her in to a very pretty afternoon dress in a deep shade of plum purple. The Comtesse was going on about the designer, a man with the last name Worth. Madison wasn't sure who she was talking about, just that the dress was fairly stunning on her. Paired with some short white leather gloves and a hat that was Christine's, Madison actually looked the part of an Opera Prima Donna. She wasn't sure that this was what Erik was talking about though. She fit right in with the Claire Tulios and La Carlottas of the opera world. He probably wanted her to stand out like a burning star or something. Not just another peacock to strut about the stage and bark out lyrics like a dog.

"Ah, Yes. Ladies and Gentlemen. The Comte and Comtesse de Chagny… Oh, and the Vicomte de Chagny." Her head shot up at the announcement of Philibert's title. He was supposed to be studying with his tutors back at the estate today. The group of performers applauded for the noble family as soon as they had stepped through the door. Philibert shook a couple hands, keeping his gaze scanning the room. He finally saw her sitting in the back and excused himself from the crowd. Madison felt a little thrill when he smiled at her, taking the seat next to her. He took her hand from the book, placing a kiss on her glove-clad knuckles. She smiled brightly at him, trying to ignore the looks she was getting from the ladies who had set their cap at the Vicomte.

"Phil- Vicomte, what are you doing here?" She got no response from him. Only a smile as he brought a single finger to his lips and let go of her hand. Their attention was pulled to the front of the room as Firmin and André commanded the ears of those gathered.

"First of all, we want to thank you all for your patience in the audition process. There is an incredible amount of talent in this company." André proclaimed while fluttering his hands about. Firmin look mildly annoyed at his partner, but kept a rather forced smile on his face. "We are going to announce the casting decisions, hand out the scripts and do a quick cold read through. Proper schedules will be posted by the afternoon. Rehearsals start tomorrow. So, without further ado…"

"The role of Héro is to be played by Claire Tulio," Her entourage burst in to applause as she acted as if this was the biggest surprise of her life. Firmin looked positively flustered at the interruption. "Claudio will be portrayed by Bernard Geoffrey," More applause. "Victor Charton is our Don Pedro, Felix Montaubry is Somarone, Coralie-Anne is Ursula, and Léonato will be our Vicomte de Chagny." Suddenly the eyes of the entire company were on the pair sitting comfortably in the back. The silence was broken by Raoul who start clapping. Everyone else followed suit, confusion still written all over their expressions. Madison wasn't all that surprised to note the younger girls including Claire were to scheming together over the poor Vicomte. They looked like wolves ready to pounce on a sheep.

"As for our Beatrice… This role was very difficult to cast. We had to have someone who could keep up with the ever witty Anton Favreau as Benedict," André allowed for applause as Monsieur Favreau took a bow with a smirk, "This young lady seem to fit the bill quite nicely and her debut is sure to bring us all a grand success. Please join me in congratulating Mademoiselle Lucia Russo in join our cast of principles." A gorgeous red-head dressed in a truly stunning cream colored gown trimmed in an icy blue silk stood up from amongst Claire's group of followers. She looked like an angel, taking an appropriately graceful bow as she was applauded. That was what Erik was talking about. Mademoiselle Russo was a perfect replacement for the likes of the Vicomtesse. She was so beautiful. It was strange that a certain Opera Ghost hadn't focused his attention on that girl. Perhaps more proof that he was just searching for a pawn to place near his precious Christine. Waking up in his lap so to speak was all the attention-getting Madison needed to do in order to have the Phantom breathing down her neck. The thought wandered in why he was wasting his time with someone who was obviously of little talent and of little notice to anyone else. She suddenly felt extremely uncomfortably and hideous in her dress, like a pig wrapped up in a silk curtain.

Madison was certain that Claire shot her a triumphant look then returned to smiling at her friend. The Italian Soprano was definitely going out of her way in an attempt to make Madison's life miserable. If money was to be bet, she guessed it had to do with the New Year's ball and the fact she sang as a replacement. A grudge was a grudge. Madison turned her attention to Christine who was clapping politely and Raoul who looked beyond smug with himself. This was probably his doing. She tried to think back to the previous night. Had he said something to her before she walked away from him? He had, saying Erik was just using her and would let her die if it meant achieving his own goals. Whatever he and Nadir had discussed earlier in the evening must have been over some correspondence that went to the managers. Taking a thick leather folio from a young man, Madison had another round of thoughts. What if the manager never planned to give her the part? Simply ignore the demands of the Opera Ghost. He didn't really hold any true power over the opera house any longer. People weren't afraid of his legend like they had, or at least how she imagined they been. Erik probably didn't demand anything. There hadn't been any mention of notes or Phantoms since the New Year's party. The only notes that seemed to be appearing were the ones he was addressing to her. At any rate, it was still going to incur the wrath of the almighty Phantom.

"Philibert…" She gently nudged him with her hand, keeping the calm look plastered on her face. "Philibert. Directly after this reading, we are going to leave the opera house. I don't care where we go. I just don't want to stay here… I really wanted the part of Beatrice. Claire will torment me about this. She would say such awful things while I was rehearsing for the auditions. I couldn't stand to hear what she comes up for this. Do you think you could take me to the book shop you go to?"

"Oh, sure. I don't see why not," Philibert paused a moment "Listen… I am sorry you didn't get anything outside of the chorus." Madison had no time to respond as the read through commenced almost immediately. She sat in the back, silently as the others read through lines. Her stomach growl lowly and angrily at her, but there was nothing she could do at this point. The reading trudged on at a snail's pace with the only amusement being Philibert reading lines every now and then. Part of her was immensely relieved that she was not going to be the focus of this cast. It was just a step up from where she would rather be, which was off-stage entirely. Madison had been intensely staring at a crack in the floorboards when the scraping of chair legs brought her back to reality. Things had finally ended; people were leaving in clumps… She wanted to leave out of the opera house in one of the waves, lest she become isolated again through one of the Phantom's games. Philibert apparently had the same idea as her, taking her folio of music and book in his hands. He tucked them all neatly under one arm then offered his freed one to Madison. She linked her arm with his as they joined in the exodus out the door. They followed the group out, no concern for the older couple they left behind in the practice room. Sunlight beamed down on the young couple as they exited the shade of the building.

"So where is this bookshop at?" Madison slipped her arm out from her male companion's, letting Philibert get a few steps ahead of her before she turned to look back at the opera building. She half expected to see the Phantom looming amongst the angels, glaring down at her with the intensity of Death. There was nothing amongst the statues. It was as if he had vanished from the building. "Close by?"

"Somewhat. We will need to take the carriage. My brother and Christine are meeting some associates of theirs for lunch so we have use of it for an hour or two." He motioned towards the family carriage. She took hold of his arm again as he assisted her down the last few steps and up in to the cab. They rode along in contented silence, away from the opera house. Madison took in the sight of the city with some amazement as they began to travel alongside the Seine. She couldn't resist the urge to stick her head out the open window to get a better look at the river. A hand gently tugged at her elbow, trying to get her to come back.

"Are we going to Notre Dame?" Her expression must have been something because Philibert started laughing as soon as she whipped around from the window. "Oh can we? Please? I have never seen it in person before." This was true. Her tour group had the grand cathedral scheduled for the next day after she and Christine had made their own detour. What idiots they were, separating from the group to trespass in a foreign country.

"The book shop I like happens to be right by the cathedral. We can go in before the bookshop if you really want to." She could hardly hold still as they drew closer, nervously bouncing her leg. Could these horses be any slower? "Can you see it yet?" The grand dark structure loomed up from the middle of the river, a reminder of Paris' history among all her glamour. It felt like ages waiting for the horses to stop. When they finally did, Madison could not wait for the footman to open the door. She burst out of the carriage (as best as she could in a corset and bustle) and gasped at little at the sight in front of her. Philibert maneuvered around her, straightening his coat. They started walking but Madison couldn't stop staring at everything but the pavement where she was wandering.

The plaza of the Notre Dame was bursting with color and sound. Stalls were set up in disarrayed rows, selling almost everything imaginable. Cloths from mystical Arabia, spices from the Far East, rare food from all around Europe. Music and laughter drifted from somewhere in the chaos. Madison stood at Philibert's side on the worn, cracked steps of the church. She felt her cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling so much, but she couldn't help it in the moment. This was a real gypsy market. The sort of thing she only saw in movies or on the television. People were everywhere. Many were well-dressed Parisians, out for a walk and to amuse themselves with a distraction. Madison was more interested in the gypsies who were selling goods, playing music and minding children. She looked at her companion with a sheepish, pleading smile. The young French man rolled his, crossing his arms in front of himself.

"I thought you wanted to see the Cathedral and the book shop. These things are just traps for people like them to swindle money out of the pockets of Parisians." The disgust was thick in his voice. "Shall we start with the Cathedral?" He turned away from the commotion of the square, heading in to the church. Madison was left alone in front of the stone saints standing guard. Their cold hard gaze stared straight on through her, uninterested in the purple satin clad young woman.

"Well, well. You definitely look like a Vicomte's lady today, my dear." Her eyes met a pair of olive green ones. Matthias Valjean was watching her inspect the stone saints with a funny smirk playing at the edges of his finely shaped mouth. He held out a tanned hand for her to take, but Madison took a few steps away from him and closer to the church door.

"You are the man who was in the woods last night. What in the world are you doing here, Monsieur Valjean?" She asked, placing a hand on her hip. The man grinned, beginning to laugh.

"Some of the folks from my caravan are set up with their wares here. I was just on my way to check up on the little lost lamb. I thought you would still be at that awful stuffy opera house. You apparently escaped from that only to be dragged in to something far more boring." Matthias winked at her with a dazzling smile. Wonder if that is how Erik looks if he would just simply smile. Why was she thinking about that infuriating man? "How about I escort you about the square till the dancing starts later on?"

"It is flattering for you to ask me sir, but I am here with the Vicomte. He promised me that he take me to the Cathedral and his favorite book shop. I best catch up with him inside."

"Tsk, Tsk. We are here to have fun, no? At least, that is why I came. Its a few hours before tonight's dance. There is…" The rest of his words were drowned out by the thundering bells in the towers above. He quickly grabbed her hand, dragging a distracted Madison into the nearest row of booths. There didn't seem to be intent to harm her although he was taking her far from Notre Dame. She hadn't realized the booths continued on out of the plaza and down the street in to a much larger square. The young girl spotted a large open area with an ornamented stage that was empty. Matthias glanced at her with grin before tugging her down a row of vendors. How would Philibert ever find her now?

Situated between the Opera L'Populaire and the festival plaza was Nadir's home, a lovely apartment that was well furnished with beautiful things from his homeland. The streets below the apartment building were scarcely populated. Few people that appeared were gypsies on their way back to the festival with arms full of wares or other Parisians leaving from it with their pockets much lighter. Nadir sat on the thick windowsill, indifferently watching those rare pedestrians. Troubled thoughts fleeted through his mind leaving no room to be bothered with the daily lives of his neighbors. The week before the auditions had gone painfully slow with Erik haunting this living room every day. He claimed that it kept him from being tempted to wring the life out of his precious pupil. The first day was hell according to the masked man. Madison spent every chance she got with her nose buried in a different book. She refused to work on the things that he commanded her to practice unless he was dragging her next to the little parlor organ to sing. . Erik nearly flung the lasso around that girl's neck out of frustration. Nadir shook his head, staring out at the cityscape. That little singer was odder then the Comtesse. At least Christine followed instructions, allowed herself to become greater than she was alone.

A fierce knock on his door aroused the man from his meditation. Nadir was not expecting anyone, Erik having threatened to stay very close to his pupil during the casting announcements. It must have gone well considering there was no commotion coming from the opera house. If things weren't announced as planned, a few broke light fixtures might be the least of the managers' worries. The Persian slowly unlocked the bolt, opening the door to see Erik Destler standing in the doorway. A puzzled expression was spread across his dark features as his friend stormed past into the tiny parlor sitting down on a black upholstered chair with a slight thud.

"What is this all about, my friend?" Nadir shut the door after making sure there had been no one was in the hallway to see Erik. He sat himself down cross from the masked man, wondering if the visit was going to last long enough to warrant some tea.

"Have you seen DeLogio?"

"Madison? No, not since last night. Was she not at the casting?"

"She was, that damned girl. She was to show for practice afterwards but that Vicomte whisked her away into the city. I have no idea where they could be. We urgently need to work on her music for the opera. A new rival has appeared within the opera house," Erik smirked darkly, "A rival worthy of Christine. She made Madison look like a tone-deaf monkey in the auditions. This woman might even best the Comtesse at her peak. Do you think I can rid myself of the monkey for a real talent?" Nadir didn't like the implication behind Erik's words nor the dark grin that carved itself on his features. He watched the other man stand up out of the chair to pace about the room.

"Now, my friend, just because the mountain suddenly is steeper to climb does not mean you should stop. You should take this as a challenge. You have to admit that making Christine sing better than La Carlotta was easy. This will be a true testament to your musical genius to transform this unruly child in a world class Prima Donna." Remaining in his own chair, Nadir watched as the dark musician spun around. Erik looked ready to pounce upon someone.

"We need her out of the chorus and in to at least a featured role," He muttered, "How interesting this will be considering I am supposed to be dead!"

"Out of the chorus? Well, Shall we pay the managers' office a visit?" Erik must have already thought of this, rushing out of the apartment with Nadir at his heels. The managers, however, were dealing a different unexpected arrival from the mists. One La Carlotta decided to finally make an appearance from the shores of Italy and the apparent squashing of Madison's rise ignited Opera L'Populaire's gossip mill. It most commonly agreed that Madison had fled after encountering the Phantom's ghost who came to rip out her vocal chords for performing so poorly. Ballet brats had taken up the funny habit of traveling in large groups again. If you found one alone, she would take off running in the opposite direction. Many of the younger male stagehands found it funny to drop a makeshift noose down if a few of the girls were walking backstage. The ex-diva's return from the unknown was accredited to Madison's disappearance as well as the actual death of the Opera Ghost. Few of the chorus girls asked why risk coming back to which Carlotta replied (with a grand display of fake tears and sobs).

"No form of ghost or phantom is keeping me from the stage. Piangi would have wanted me to return here. Keep a brave face and all…" The wide, smug smirk on her face was easily wiped away upon hearing the bad news that there was a new leading lady. Some very young unknown from who-knows-where. Her voice rose as she hurled insults at the spineless managers until a knock at the door stopped her tirade. All three stood in the main office starting at the interruption, the two men wearing rather pained expressions. Carlotta stopped yelling as a familiar Persian man entered the room.

"Yes?" prompted Monsieur Firmin, his appearance was almost unprofessional. He straightened up the moment he realized who it was.

"Hello, sirs.. I hope I am not interrupting anything." Nadir paused, unsure if he ought to actually enter into the room. André smiled wearily at him, waving the man in. "I just figured I stop by as I missed the casting announcements as… a new patron. Do you have the list that I may peruse?" The Persian muttered thanks as Firmin handed him a piece of paper. "Claire Tulio? The girl who ran away from the New Years Eve Gala who was supposed to perform?" Carlotta rounded on the managers like a pit-bull with a bone.

"She is not even committed to performing if she can't do the Masquerade without running away! Give ME the girl's part and I will not disappoint you like that whore has." Collapsing wills is the theme tonight, ladies and gentlemen, because Monsieur André threw up his arms, giving in. Firmin ordered her to go retrieve a folio from the music office while he found someone who was still around from the wardrobe department to inform them of the change. The Italian spat out sugary thanks before flouncing out of the office. She was followed by Nadir who just gave a bow to the two managers before disappearing. Unknown to the managers, their worst fear had been watching through one of the hidden vents with venomous glee. Well, this visit worked out far better than one could have hoped. The strange demon quietly walked along the dark passage, his mind swirling with fuzzy thoughts and emotions. It had been a while since his Angel rejected him for the then-Vicomte. He now had a way to reconnect with his precious Christine and a project to distract him from becoming too destructive for his own good.

"..." He would find a way back into Christine's heart. First he had to find his student. Where could that weak-minded boy have taken her?

"It is so beautiful but I just couldn't accept it."

"It is just like you, my little butterfly," Matthias Valjean clasped the chain around the younger girl's neck, despite her fervent protest. "Beautiful and deserving to be displayed". He grinned as her cheeks filled with a pink color at the forward comment. Madison sat on a wooden stool staring in to a small looking glass. She took her time admiring rich amethyst-encrusted cross that hung from her neck. It was really was beautiful. Not something a gypsy should be able to afford, at least not one who proudly boosted of being homeless. The King of Tramps, the name he had called himself, was very confident to the point of being arrogant. Madison caught him looked at her in the mirror. He was watching her closely; something was definitely playing in the back of his mind. How he looked at her made her question why she let him whisk her away from Philibert. Matthias was a complete stranger, much older than her. There was no denying he was handsome, charming and quick with words. He reminded her of someone back home too, but that was no reason to bolt off from someone who has been so kind. Matthias placed a hand on Madison's shoulder to gently rouse her from her thoughts, smirking. He ran it down her arm slowly causing her body to shiver in response. She shifted away from his hand to stand up from the stool. This was a mistake… One she was going to regret.

"Come on." He grabbed her hand, pulling Madison down the street. She walked along side him, allowing him to link his arm with her's. The sudden laughter of children caught her off guard. A group of young boys were playing with a ball in an empty space, kicking it back and forth. One of them kicked too hard sending the ball in Madison's direction. It rolled across the pavement until it progress was halted by her boot. She smiled at the boys, kicking it back their way. The girl waved to them as they continued on down the street. "What was that little Vicomtesse?"

"Oh, they remind me of my siblings. Max and Jason."Her smile faded as she spoke of her brothers.

"You have brothers? Are they older or younger?" He asked, suddenly more interested in what she had to say then the few dancing girls performing at the end of the row. "And do you have other family members that live around here?"

"Younger, Max is 13 and Jason is 9. And no, all my family lives in America, on the West Coast." She said as she shook her head soberly, stepping closer to him to avoid some small boys crowding round a monkey and its trainer. It was dancing along to the music box that the trainer was cranking. Just like her and Erik. Madison sneered a little at the thought of being someone's trained pet, but it really wasn't much different than what she was.

"Why the hell are you in France?" He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. That was a long way from home for any person to be certain. Though his question made her mind go blank. She never thought of an excuse for her presence here in France. She couldn't just say that she was a visitor from the future, and it was nothing, tra-la-la.

"I... am visiting Europe, touring all the great opera houses. I had hoped to work in one someday, behind the scenes of course. Never imagined I find myself in a position to be on the stage of Paris' greatest opera house." Madison finally answered. "I had wandered away from the rest of my tour group, fell asleep, and woke up in the cellars of the Opera L'Popluaire. I am still trying to figure out how though. All I recall is… finding that mask." It suddenly clicked in her mind. The mask must have been the key, acted like a portkey. It had whisked her from her time with Revion and Christine to the world of the Phantom. Her walking companion looked confused, but he just nodded his head.

"The Opera Ghost's mask, made from snow white porcelain. I put it on before I…" Opera Ghost? The rumors were that he was dead and buried between the wretched place itself. It would be best for her not to draw attention to the face that the rumors were false. "Oh, forget it. I am here now… er, who is that?" She pointed to a small group of people making their way in Matthias' direction. He groaned lowly as they approached, but didn't seem that concerned. There were two men and a red-headed young woman that Madison swore she had seen before.

"Madison, may I introduce my companion, Jacques." Matthias said with a bit of a laugh in his tone. Jacques was shorter, just about Madison's height to be exact. He had blue eyes that were aquamarine in shade and sandy blonde hair. Pale, long elegant limbs that were probably prefect in a thief and sly eyes that flickered over each person. Jacques was dressed in a brown tunic and worn out pants. He looked tired though. "The gentleman standing next to him is my good friend, Angeles Richard." Angeles looked the best dressed out of the whole group, wearing a tailored suit, fur-lined overcoat and top hat. His walking stick had a silver handle in the shape of a snarling wolf. Interesting choice. Angeles' raven black hair was slicked back in a fashionable manner. The man had the air of being naturally graceful and he was in fact a fairly good dancer.

"I have met him before actually," Madison interrupted, "At the Masquerade Ball. Monsieur Richard's adopted son. We danced for a short well, I believe". Angeles looked confused for a moment then smiled.

"Ah, yes. We did. You are Miss DeLogio, correct?" He asked with a short, curt bow. She nodded only to get a hard look from him. "You are the one causing my father some great deal of pain at the moment. You ought to get to the Opera House within the next half hour or you will be working for Matthias here." Heat flooded her cheeks. What had she done now? Well, more like what had Erik done? Angeles' red-headed friend spoke up quickly.

"I will go with Mademoiselle DeLogio to the opera house." She said in a beautifully smooth and feminine voice. It suddenly clicked. This was Lucia Russo. Seeing her outside of the opera house made it difficult to place her. She was just as gorgeous up close. No wonder she was set to be the new Prima Donna. Someone like Madison was no competition for this woman. "I have to return for the afternoon rehearsal block anyways." Madison nodded her head, and that was it. The two young women started to make their way through the crowd away from the men.

"Now, Miss DeLogio, how did you manage to find yourself entangled with the Spectre?" Lucia's voiced purred gently as they walked through the crowd.

"I am sorry, what Spectre?" Panic set in. How did Lucia know about Erik? Had she caught them during a lesson? Erik had tried to get her to take lessons back down below but Madison refused to trust him. Was this the end already?

"Matthias. It is the name given to him by the other gypsies. He is sort of the leader over a small pack that seeks out better political standing for the group." Lucia recounted their exploits and how they were now seeking to gain holds in actual institutions. "Take Angeles for example. His father manages the biggest opera house in the city. Loads of important government types come to the galas and shows. What better way to gain their trust and ears? Connections are important, even for young opera singers." What did she mean by that?

"Madison!" Philibert's voice rose over the crowd. She looked up to see him rushing over, very concerned. "Oh, thank goodness. I had thought something horrible had happened. Where did you go?"

"It is my fault, Vicomte. I saw her and just wanted to take about the Opera. I didn't give her a chance to tell me that she was with you." Lucia oozed charm and Philibert seemed to instantly eat it up. He smiled, took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it.

"That is alright. I am glad to have found you both. Shall we return to the opera house together?" Lucia offered her arm to Philibert who took it willingly, leaving Madison to follow behind. Going back to the opera house was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment, especially with Lucia laying on the sugar thick. Jealousy was trying to bubble up. Over Philibert? That was ridiculous. She had bigger problems on her hands. What was Erik going to say to her?