"Um, Celeste?"
Celeste turned, surprised to see one of the young ballet girls standing there. Though most had forgotten their annoyance with her, many still cast the occasional resentful look or spiteful laugh her way.
"Yes, Chloe?" Celeste remembered the blonde girl who had joined less than a year ago. She had apparent talent at picking up musical instruments, which made her popular with the members of the orchestra. Almost as good as someone else I know.
She shook her head a little, forcing Erik from her thoughts. "What is it?" she asked.
Katie, a sweet, softly-spoken friend of Chloe's stepped forwards. "We were asked to give you this." She produced a letter, and Celeste recognised the embellished paper at once.
"Who by?" she asked in mild confusion. Surely Erik hadn't emerged into the Opera House and persuaded the girls to carry his message. If he had, Chloe and Katie seemed remarkably calm.
"Madame Giry." Chloe said.
Celeste's confusion cleared. She would have been extremely surprised had Erik suddenly started to employ the ballet girls as messengers.
Katie handed the letter over. As her fingers closed over Erik's message, Celeste rolled her eyes internally at her teacher's flair for the dramatic. "Thank you." she said, smiling gratefully at the ballerinas.
The pair smiled back and hurried away, rejoining the small group chatting by the edge of the stage.
Celeste left the bustle of the crowd, and found an empty corridor to read the note without prying eyes.
Celeste, read the familiar scrawl. I will not be able to teach you this afternoon. Your lesson will instead take place when rehearsals end tomorrow.
Celeste sighed. She was disappointed to put off her lesson, but at the same time slightly relieved to postpone Erik's intense presence. She wondered for a moment what he could be doing, but pushed it from her mind. As a general rule, she tried not to think too hard about what Erik spent his days doing. After all, it was his business.
Pushing herself off the wall she had leant against, Celeste flicked her hair back from her face and started back towards the noise of the stage, a certain heaviness in her heart at knowing she would have to wait another day to sing.
"Where were you yesterday?" Celeste asked, finally breaking the silence as Erik helped her out of the boat.
"I had...matters I needed to attend to." Erik said vaguely. In truth, he had spent the previous day and that morning investigating potential methods of taking care of Buquet, but he was hardly going to tell her that. Her friendship, though tentative, was incredibly valuable.
Celeste tilted her head, a playful smile forming on her lips. "I thought that nothing was more important than music."
"Don't use my own words against me." Erik couldn't help grinning.
"But I'm right." she said, frowning in mock confusion.
Erik hid his widening smile by turning away from her. He started to shuffle the music on the organ, trying to look busy.
"Erik, what's this?"
Erik glanced over to see Celeste holding his Punjab lasso, now genuinely frowning down at it. "It's just a piece of rope." He forced his voice to remain casual while he cursed himself for leaving it beside the piano. After stealing around all morning he had been in so much of a hurry to see Celeste's rehearsal that he had just dropped the lasso and sped off without a second thought.
Celeste arched an eyebrow at him, her expression alarmingly similar to the one Madame Giry often wore with him. "It's a lasso."
"Yes," Erik tried not to sound guilty or wry, as either could end badly. He glanced at her hands. The coil of red rope looked so wrong held by her, like poison on a delicate flower.
The unease flickering in Celeste's stomach was reflected on her face. Stories of corpses hanged by the Opera Ghost sprang to mind once again. In fact, at times it was almost impossible to rid her mind of doubtful thoughts about her Angel.
"You don't...use it, do you?" she asked tentatively. "On people." She waited nervously for him to answer, hoping desperately it would be the reassuring rather than the frightening response.
"Of course not." Erik replied smoothy, and Celeste felt herself relax slightly. However, there was still the creeping doubt telling her that the stories must have come from somewhere, and that he must have some reason for having the lasso.
She almost shivered. The possibility that he was lying didn't bear thinking about.
"Do you promise you won't use it on anyone?" she persisted. If he agrees, I won't have anything to worry about. If he doesn't... Well...
"I promise." Erik's voice was soft, and when she met his eyes they were earnest but unreadable. "Now, come and look over this score."
After a moments hesitation which made Erik's insides clench, Celeste laid down the lasso and moved to the organ. Although, Erik noticed, she didn't come as close as she normally did.
"As you can see, the Countess' part has some difficult sections which will take some time to work on, but you are fully capable of it all."
Celeste frowned slightly, her anxiousness now directed at the music before her. Erik couldn't help but smile a little when she ran her hand through her hair. Over the last few months her mannerisms had become as familiar to him as the rocky floor of the cavern, but this nervous habit always amused him.
"Are you sure I should practice this?" she asked uncertainly, and not unexpectedly. "The chances of me actually singing it are very slim."
"I can guarantee you will be Prima Donna again." Erik said, arranging his face into the picture of innocence when she glanced over at him. "The managers would be idiots to ignore your talent." he added to sidetrack her.
Celeste smiled at last, despite herself, as he knew she would. "I thought you said they were idiots."
"Even idiots can be pointed in the right direction." Erik said, smiling too.
"If Carlotta loses her power over them." Celeste said quietly, her face falling again.
"Well," Erik said, positioning himself to begin playing. "We'll just have to see what happens. Now, from bar 18."