XXXIV

"Christine," Raoul's voice came from outside her door. She stirred with a moan and sat up on the unfamiliar bed with annoyance. It was much too early to be awake, "darling, are you awake?"

She ran a hand through her hair with anger and stomped towards the door. When she pulled it open she found herself staring at Raoul de Chagny. He stared at her wild her and smirked, it reminded him so much of when she was younger, she could see the appreciation in his gaze, she would make sure to neaten it later.

"Good morning Christine, I thought I should fetch you, it is early—

"Much too early," she corrected, "is there something that calls my attention?"

He shook his head with embarrassment, "I thought you might wish to go for a walk. It is a beautiful morning."

"It is winter," she stated shortly. When he blushed and said nothing she sighed and ran a hand through her hair, "I will get dressed and then make my way down to you."

"I will meet you in the dining room, it is just down the stairs and then to the right. You will find it with ease."

She nodded and shut the door. Christine moved to her suitcase and pulled out a blue gown.

I will make him regret bringing me here, she thought defiantly as she slipped the gown over her head.

When she finished Christine went to the mirror and pulled her hair back severely away from her face. Her tresses fell in long waves down her back but to whoever would stare at her from the front it would look as if though she had the tightest hairstyle imaginable. And her eyes looked red and tired, yes this was perfect.

Christine made her way down the familiar hallway with a haughty air.

When she reached the stairs she listened for any sound of Raoul or anyone else. She heard nothing except for movement towards the right. That is where he told her the dining room would be.

When she entered she was not amazed to find that it was just as lavish as the resto f his home. There were beautifully ornate chairs around the very long dining room table. It was made of a glossy wood. There were five chairs along the longest side of the table and then one on the shorter ones. The room itself was the sunlight from outside. The floors were dark wood tiles and the walls were soft beige with white borders running around the bottom.

Raoul sat at the head of the table opposite of her. The sun was hitting the right side of his face. He had a plate in front of him with what appeared to be a piece of meat and bread, fruits in a separate bowl and water in a glass cup. As she stepped forward he stood and approached her.

"You look radiant," he observed gently, lying through his teeth. The truth was that she looked sickly. As if she were being starved of something. Her eyes were red and puffy and her stare was horribly vacant, and her hair, what was she doing with it? She had never been one to tame the wild curls.

He pulled out a chair for her, directly opposite of him, and she sat without thanking him for the courteous gesture. Raoul walked to his side of the table and began eating as she stared at the plate in front of her with confusion.

"Do you not like it?" He asked quietly, "I can get you something you would prefer."

"Why do I have so many utensils?" She stared with confusion and then growing annoyance.

"For etiquette purposes," he frowned, "do you not know how to use them?"

"I do not care to learn," she muttered and grabbed the bowl of fruits and picked up a slice of an apple with her fingers. A maid who entered stared at the young woman with shock as she popped the fruit into her mouth.

Raoul gaped, "Christine you must use the utensils."

"They are only fruits Raoul," she rolled her eyes and plucked out an orange slice, then began speaking without having swallowed, "it's not as if there is anyone to watch me except for you."

Raoul looked to the maid nervously, "is there something you needed?"

"Yes sir, Monsieur Phillipe sent you a note," she pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it to the young Vincomte before excusing herself. Christine watched as he read the paper easily, he put it down and looked up to Christine.

"My brother will be coming with my father tomorrow tonight; I expect that we will be having dinner together. You are expected to be here."

"Of course I am expected to be there," she laughed at him, he frowned, "but whether or not I will make the choice to be there is another story. I find that those who come from money are often the most vapid individuals."

"And how would you know us to be vapid Christine?" His tone became challenging, "since when have you surrounded yourself with enough 'people of money' to know that we are vapid?" When she glared he answered his own question, "are these lies that your guardian has told you?"

"He only speaks of what he knows."

"And how much could he possibly know Christine, the man seems to not come from a wealthy home. He is most likely uneducated-

"He is more intelligent then all of you put into one," she said with a challenging glare, "he understands the way things must be unlike yourselves, he has actually had challenges to get to where he is unlike you, Raoul."

"And where is that Christine?" He smirked at her arrogantly, "beneath an Opera House with only a young girl to keep him company?"

"And where are you Raoul?" She smiled sweetly, "in a lavish home with only the company of someone that is forced to be in your company? At the very least he had someone who wanted to be with him."

Raoul's gaze dropped to his plate and he lifted the fork to his mouth. He chewed on the meat cautiously, letting Christine's words burn into him like a brand. He could understand her cruelty to some level, but he wanted it to stop before it went on any further. She would embarrass him in front of his family, he just knew it. She had a look in her eyes…

"You've forced this out of me," Christine murmured quietly as she noticed his quieted demeanor, then she took a small drink from the glass of water, Raoul raised his eyes slowly to her as she sat there with her eyes on the plate before her. She still had not eaten the food, "I never wished to be this way with you Raoul. But you have forced this."

Raoul said nothing to her and stood from where he sat. He left the plate there and passed by her without another word. He did not care to be in her company at that moment in time.

Christine took his absence and ate the food. She was pleased to be without the company of anyone. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She had to find a way to send a letter to Nadir telling him that she was alright. It was in her best interest, and Raoul's, to get in contact with Erik as soon as possible. She knew that he was not a very patient man.

For the rest of the day Christine sat in her room and thought of Erik. She knew that he was most likely sleeping.

What does he look like when he sleeps? Does he look more peaceful or does he continue to hold that stern expression that has grown to be so natural to me now? She wondered endlessly as she hummed with boredom. She wanted to sing but did not wish to draw attention to herself.

That night she fell asleep with thoughts of Erik.

…

The next day was spent very similarly to the first except that Raoul did not have breakfast with her. He did however send her a note informing her that he would see her later on in the afternoon.

She practiced singing and found herself struggling. She wanted Erik's direction, but she managed on her own. Ever so often she would hear whispers outside her door as she sang; she imagined that it was the servants that were listening outside her door as she sang, and so she sang them a song. Of course they did not know that she knew of their presence.

When the evening came and it was time to eat Raoul went in search of Christine. He found her in her bedroom combing her hair with her fingers and staring in the mirror. She was so strangely beautiful, she wore an ivory gown that hugged her waist wonderfully and swept down to the floor. Her pale skin was almost the color of the dress itself.

"Christine, my father and brother are here, would you please join me?"

Her eyes slid to him and she raised a brow, "do I have any choice?"

He sighed heavily at her, irritated by her attitude towards him but saying nothing.

Christine stood gracefully and made her way towards him. He smiled when she followed him out the door and down the stairs towards the dining room.

Philippe de Chagny was the first one that she saw. He looked just as handsome as his brother but with a stronger air of confidence then Raoul. He wore a red cravat while Raoul wore blue. He was grinning at her as she entered the room, the corners of his eyes pressed together with his flawless grin. His blonde hair was shaggier then Raoul's and he stood taller and more muscular than his younger brother. Wherever Raoul was delicate looking, and young, his brother was the opposite. For a moment she almost smiled at the man.

Almost.

There was a woman standing beside Philippe, she imagined that this was his wife, when he spoke he introduced her as just that. She was elegant, and appeared almost disdainful of Christine. Her eyes were blue and her lips full and pink. Her hair was just as blonde as Raolu's mother and for a moment Christine found her to be a spitting image of the woman.

And then there was their father. He had grey hair on his head with a slight curl towards the forehead. And his lips were fuller then that of his sons. His cheeks were red and full, wonderfully pink, he smiled at her gently.

"My goodness Miss Daae," Philippe stepped forward and moved his hands towards her, he kissed her knuckles and Raoul glared at the sight, Christine seemed shocked by the gesture too, "you look magnificent."

And she did.

She had taken care to not look so severe; instead she allowed the brushing of her fingers to smooth the curls out into gentle waves. She pinned her hair to the back of her head, but allowed her hair to breathe, surrounding her head like a small pillow. She smiled the smallest smile she could manage and responded, "thank you Philippe, it is very good to see you again after so many years."

"Good evening Miss Daae," Raoul's father blushed at her as her eyes landed on him, he could not forget the last time he had seen her in his home, the way she had been so harshly dismissed, "it is a pleasure to see you again."

"Good evening Monsieur de Chagny," she curtsied at him but did not give her his hand.

"Good evening Miss Daae," Philippe wife curtsied. Her eyes roamed Christine.

"Good evening," Christine responded, "it is a pleasure to meet you."

When the woman did not respond Raoul took the silence as a moment to speak.

"Shall we eat?"

"Certainly," she responded for them all and moved without taking his arm towards the table. Raoul took a seat in the middle of the long dining table and signaled with his eyes for Christine to sit across from him. At the same time Phillipe sat opposite of his father who took the head of the table. Philippe's wife sat beside Raoul and almost in front of Christine. Is it ironic that no one is sitting beside me? She thought with amusement. Philippe was to her right, and his father to her left, Raoul and Jessica sat before her.

"Miss Daae," Raoul's father grinned at her, "I hear that the wedding is planned for this summer, what do you think?"

She grinned back at him, dazzling them all, "I think it is a spectacularly horrific idea."

"C-Christine—" Raoul stuttered stupidly as Philippe chuckled and their father stared at his son with confusion, Philippe's wife, Jessica, raised a brow, "you should not speak that way-

"Oh Raoul, come now dear," she looked to him, "do you not think it is a horrible idea to marry in the summer? In the sun and with all that sweat. Imagine, all of Paris would be able to see through the fabric of my dress-

"Christine!" He exclaimed.

Philippe laughed harder and their father reddened at her audacity, "Miss Daae I am sure that no one would be able to see through the fabric."

"Oh you would be surprised," she smirked at him, "imagine all the men of Paris that would show up to that wedding."

"Christine!" Raoul looked like he was going to vomit from shock.

I am a performer Raoul, do not forget that, she thought at him.

Philippe was coughing wildly and a maid was giving him a glass of water as he struggled to contain his laughter. Monsieur de Chagny was struggling to not envision the pretty young woman with a white dress clinging to her sweating body, he reddened some more and called for a servant to fetch them all a glass of water. Raoul looked as if though he were praying that God would smite him right there, Christine hoped so.

"So Christine," Philippe wiped a tear, "tell me why is it that my brother has not given you a ring?"

She looked at her naked fingers and then looked to Raoul, "yes Raoul, why have you not given me a ring?"

He did not reply, instead he called for a servant to bring them their meals.

As they waited Jessica spoke, "is it not odd, Christine," she stared at her seriously, "that you are sitting all by yourself on that side of the table?"

Christine looked to her left, and then to her right, "I had noticed it earlier."

"If Madame de Chagny were here she would be at your side." Jessica explained.

"Is this some sort of hierarchy seating?" Christine asked with confusion.

"Indeed it is," Jessica replied.

Christine shrugged at this, "it is all quite fine, I have a Phantom at my side."

Raoul choked on his water and his brother raised a brow at him. Christine bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

If Erik were here, she thought with amusement, he would be complaining about the fact that there is not a single instrument in the room. Or perhaps about the fact that the lighting, as dim as it is, is too bright, most likely, he would be thundering on and on about how ridiculous it is that one must eat at such a large and expensive looking table.

Servants came in and began the task of setting plates of food in front of them. They set utensils before them all in a very specific order, Christine watched with wonder and then began to grow more confused.

Philippe de Chagny stared at his steak with hungry eyes and Raoul still looked mortified.

"What is the point of so many utensils?" She asked boldly, looking to Monsieur de Chagny for the answer, he stared at her with confusion, "should I not just eat?"

"It is a matter of class and mannerisms Miss Daae," he told her gently, almost embarrassed for her, "it is proper."

"But I am hardly proper," she stated and slouched, Philippe stifled a laugh as she let out a groan, a very unladylike one at that, "I truly do not need so many utensils, this is completely ridiculous."

"Christine! Do not speak that way," Raoul scolded her.

"Excuse me Raoul?" She glared, "I am baseborn, I may say what I like. I am not one of your subjects-

"Christine that is not what I meant," he pinched the bridge of his nose with irritation and his father glared at her. How dare this woman talk that way to a man?

"Of course it is," she grabbed the wrong fork and stabbed it into the meat roughly, then used another fork to hold it in place as she ripped it apart, "I am not a child. I am a grown woman, remember? And I will explain myself more thoroughly now," she watched him heatedly, "you all need these utensils to feel as if though you are above the rest of us. The truth of the matter is that this is all ridiculous, stupid, and immature. You do not need so many forks, and knives to eat your food, for heaven's sake it is a danger!"

"Good lord," Jessica sighed heavily as the brunette complained like a mad woman.

"Look," she grabbed three of the knives in one hand, "this is just asking for a massacre of some sort Raoul."

"This is very true," Philippe agreed and then shoved all his utensils away but one knife and one fork, he grinned as he encouraged her ranting and raving, "take lesson Raoul, your wife might teach you something. You complained of the same when you were younger."

"Yes," Christine looked to Philippe, "but our dear Raoul has lost all of his charm."

Raoul glared at his brother for cheering her on. Jessica did the same, and Monsieur de Chagny spoke, his voice was more serious then she had heard it in a long time, "Miss Daae, you will do well if you learn from my son's wife and not speak so freely amongst men."

Christine flushed with rage at this and stood from the table sharply. Raoul stared at her with shock as she glared at his father openly, she had never had someone speak to her as such. Putting her down for being a female! Her heart was racing within her chest, "and you will do well to remember that I do not care for what you, or your lovely wife, or your son, think of me. I will speak as freely as I wish; women like me do not care to obey the rules set forth by men against us."

"You insolent girl!" He stood up and slammed his fist into the table; he was as red as a tomato. Philippe stood and so did Raoul, "how dare you disrespect me in my own home!"

"Does it embarrass you to think that a woman would so boldly speak her mind out against such asinine etiquette? Or is it that you dislike my critique of people with money running through their veins?"

"Christine stop it," Raoul urged her and came around the table. He took hold of her arm but she promptly ripped it out of his grasp, "come darling you've had too much wine," he tried to persuade her to move with gentle nudges on her back but she refused as his father raged at her from where he stood.

"I have not had wine," she spoke with a glare at his father, "I have had too much stupidity for one day, Raoul. They are two very different things my dear."

Raoul's father clenched his jaw, "You are a bratty little girl who is ungrateful for the opportunity that my son has given her. You, a little opera singer, should be more than pleased at this opportunity-

"Then perhaps you should send for Carlotta," she suggested with a roll of her eyes, "I am certain that she would absolutely love the prospect of becoming part of your family."

"You insolent girl!" He thundered again and suddenly stormed to her. Christine's eyes bulged and suddenly Raoul was trying to move her out of the way, but it was already too late.

His father's hand came down so sharply on her cheek that the sting did not come until after she realized what happened.

But by then she was already on the floor, clutching her face and Philippe was shoving his father harshly away from her.

"How dare you!" Raoul yelled as he began pulling her to her feet. She could hardly see through the tears in her eyes.

"That stupid girl!" His father roared from where Philippe had him crushed to the wall, Jessica was on her feet and staring wide eyed at the man she had once thought so gentle, "she will never be like one of us."

Christine blinked the tears away, I will not cry in front of them! Do not dare Christine, she yelled at herself and dared to glare at the man in the eye. He huffed and puffed angrily from where he stood, pressed against the wall by his own son who was staring at him with a horrified expression.

"Of course I will never be like you. I was raised to have more intelligence and morality then you could amass in five lifetimes," Raoul's eyes widened and Jessica smiled quietly, but it did not come to the surface.

"Be quiet or I will strike you again," their father warned, fisting his hands.

"You must cut out my tongue to silence me sir," she reached angrily for the collection of knives that the servants had laid out beside her plate, "perhaps these may be of use to you? Good manners and respectability matter, right?" She seethed, "it only fits that they would count even as you strike a woman silent."

He gave a yell of rage and she stormed past him, only rubbing her cheek when she was marching up the stairs.

His father struck me, in front of them all! And when the silence came only then did she realize that she was in the room Raoul had given her.

The world is a cruel place when you are different, my God Erik, she thought as tears threatened to fall, what you must have gone through…

Raoul burst into the room and was instantly before her, sitting her down onto the bed and gently rubbing her cheek with the back of his hand, trying to ease the hotness there, but his flesh was not cool enough to bring down the heat of where the sting had landed.

"Christine, Christine I am so sorry," he apologized as she blinked with shock.

"He struck me," she whispered. The blow to her cheek was intensifying as the moments went on.

"You cannot talk like that to these men," he shook his head at her with tears in his hazel eyes, "they will not hesitate to silence you. I – I tried to warn you Christine you are not with your guardian anymore you are in high society. You cannot act as you wish, not unless you are in the privacy of your own room or with me. You cannot behave like that when we have company," he begged her to understand. The welt was rising; her pores were redder then the rest of her flesh where his father had dared to strike her. He could feel his hands twitching to go down there and bloody his father's entire countenance; he had hit his future wife! Christine's head had whipped around as if it were going to snap off, "I could kill him." He muttered as he rubbed her cheek, trying to soothe her. Her blue eyes were wide and shocked, but not at his words, if not at what had transpired. "Please say something, please Christine," he croaked.

She thought of what to say to him, "is this a common occurrence?"

"My father is an animal," he shook his head furiously, "he will not get away with this Christine," she stared at him as though she were lost, "please do not fear me, I would never do this to you." She did not respond, she just stared, her blue eyes disbelieving, "please say something Christine, talk to me."

"Leave me Raoul," her voice has come out as impassively as she felt, "I wish to be alone tonight."

"Christine please I must get you someone for this, we must ensure that you did not harm yourself when you fell. Does your head hurt? I must send for a doctor first thing in the morning"

"Raoul-

"Please Christine!"

She stilled, "Yes, yes, Raoul please send for a doctor," her eyes became wide, "I think he should come very early in the morning Raoul, very early. I feel a headache; I fear I did hit myself."

"Christine yes, yes I will send a note this very moment," he stood with worried eyes, "but there is no one that can receive notes at this moment. No one would be awake for to take appointments-

Her eyes slid up to his, "there is one."

I am, INSANELY, proud of this chapter.

I did not want Christine to come off as sobbing her eyes out at what Raoul's father did. I imagined her struggling to not cry but managing and then realizing just how out of tune with 'society' she is. I also wanted to make sure that it was kind of clear how Erik, in sheltering her, never really taught her of the way other people, like Raoul's family, live. Christine is basically lost at sea, and she has picked up Erik's habits of never really stopping herself. I wanted to make it clear that the only person who can ever really just calm her down or force her to just listen, is Erik, Raoul and the Vincomte's hold no control of her wild spirit. That is all Erik and herself.

SO, I hope you picked up on the little symbolism I tossed in there when Christine grabbed the knives of those with class. I always thought the whole etiquette thing was a waste of time, but to each their own. And I felt that this was a perfect opportunity to have Christine go on a tangent about how weird it is to use so many different knives and forks to eat, because honestly, I don't get it.

SO REVIEW :) I Hope you enjoyed that burst of Christine, and Jessica silent appreciation for her blunt rant. And I hope it made you giggle or laugh, "I have the Phantom at my side"