Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter took so long to get to you. It is a bit longer than average so it took a bit longer to write. But enough of my excuses! Enjoy the chapter. And once again three cheers for Juliana! As always she has kept my writing from getting to clichéd.
Oh and just as a side note I have been noticing a recent decline in reviews. If I am boring you guys or something else please let me know. I do take everyone's suggestions seriously. So a big thanks to all of you who have been reviewing almost every chapter. You guys are the best!
Chapter 36: Fear
Slowly Brielle opened her eyes, gazing about her bedroom in a drug induced stupor. Raising a hand from under the covers she pressed her palm against her temple; her head felt as if it were floating six feet above her body. Conscious thought floated in and out of focus, swimming upstream against the waves of laudanum in her bloodstream. At least the pain was being kept at bay.
It is night again, she thought absently as she blinked about the darkened room. How long has it been now? Is this the first night…or it is it the second? It was amazing, really, how quickly time passed when one was not fully in control of their faculties.
Dropping her hand back to her side, Brielle turned sluggish eyes toward the snap of a match being struck near her bedside. Squinting at the offending light as the match danced brightly before her eyes, she watched mutely as invisible hands moved to light the candle on her bedside table. Andrew's face suddenly materialized out of the shadows as the candlelight spread in a small circle across the carpet. Pulling back from the unwelcome sight, Brielle inched away from him.
"Hello darling," Andrew crooned as he scooted his chair closer to her side. "I am glad to see you are awake. The dose of medication the doctor prescribed has kept you fairly quiet the last two days."
"Two days?" she mumbled vaguely, her heart beginning to skip fearfully within her chest. When Andrew's perfect white teeth flashed in the dim light Brielle felt the hairs along her arms stand on end. Something about his tone, his leering expression, sent warning shivers through her muddled head. A sharp sickening odor wafted across the small distance between them, stinging Brielle's nostrils as she struggled to name the dizzying smell.
"Yes, two whole days have passed," Andrew responded with a slight slur, his black eyes carefully following her every movement, "and I figured it was about time I came to talk to you about what happened. I feel terrible…"
"Are you drunk?" Brielle finally asked when dark eyed man swayed slightly in his chair.
A burst of laughter rocked Andrew's shoulders as he considered her question. "Why yes I believe I am," he finally replied, leaning an elbow on the edge of the bed. "I just kept hearing your scream as you fell – over and over in my head. I had to make it stop. Gin, I have found over the years, does a wonderful job of making unpleasant memories disappear." The flippant grin upon his face slipped from his mouth as he turned to stare fixedly at the candle upon the table.
"Yes, it has always done a fabulous job," he whispered, twin points of light reflecting in the empty darkness of his eyes. Slowly, as he continued to stare at the dancing flame, his hands closed into fists upon the bed. Closing his eyes with a strangled sigh, Andrew turned his face away from the light.
"What are you doing here? It is the middle of the night. You should go."
A crooked, broken smile cut across the young lord's face. Opening his eyes Andrew tilted his head to the side, carefully considering the signet ring on his right hand. "I have been thinking over what happened and I wanted to come and discuss it." He paused for a moment and looked around, only then seeming to notice the darkness of the late hour. "I didn't realize it was so late."
Once again leaning upon her bedside Andrew hovered close to Brielle's right shoulder, his chin cradled in one hand. "But since you are awake and I am already here, I don't see that it should matter. After all it is partially your fault, my worrying these last two days. You have no idea the agony that I have gone through. It has been terrible."
Fighting to sit up a little straighter Brielle frowned over Andrew's words, a burst of righteous fury leaking into the terror thrumming through her body. "My fault that you have been worried? I didn't jump down those stairs for fun!"
Grimacing slightly at the anger in her tone, Andrew groped within his jacket for several moments before pulling out a hand-sized tankard from his pocket. Unscrewing the cap, the young lord tipped his head back and took several deep gulps of the liquid inside. Replacing the top on the sterling silver flask he laid it on the bed, within easy reach.
"I didn't push you if that is what you are trying to say," he stated flatly, his fingers tapping nervously upon the bed sheets. "That would have been a stupid thing to do considering how long I have been working to make you mine. I wouldn't risk losing you like that. I love you more than life itself…I always have."
Taking his hand off the silver flask, Andrew reached out to take Brielle's hand in his. When she snatched her fingers out of his grasp a dark cloud passed over his features. "It has taken me ten years to get this far and I'll be damned if I let anything get between us again, not even your own stubborn tendencies. If I have to lock you away until the day you die you will become my wife. I can't lose you. I can't."
"You are crazy," Brielle whispered, horrified by what she was hearing. "You can't be serious. What are you talking about locking me up?" Becoming more agitated Brielle swept a hand out, pushing against Andrew's chest. "How dare you threaten me like this? There is no apology you could make now that would make me forget all of the lies you have told. How could you even think I would still want to marry you!"
Her words hung heavily in the air between them as Andrew turned his eyes back to the candle burning down on the table. Something broke in his expression, turning it black and violent. He was quiet for a moment as his beetle black eyes watched the dancing flame with an almost maniacal intensity. Smoothing a hand through his inky black hair Andrew carefully climbed to his feet. Swaying only slightly, he turned his attention back to the woman lying in the bed.
"Did you think I was threatening you my love?" he asked slowly, a burst of laughter bubbling up from deep within his chest. "I haven't even begun to threaten you yet." Placing a knee onto the edge of the bed Andrew had Brielle's wrists pinned to the mattress before the Irish woman could mouth a word of protest. "In your worst nightmares you have no idea what I could do to you."
Struggling to free herself from his grip Brielle kicked out with her legs, only to find the effort to be just beyond her reach, the pain killers in her system effectively weighing her down. "Let go of me."
"No, I don't think I will ever let you go again. Now I have been lineate over the years. I let you explore a little and marry my ungrateful little brother. I recognized that you needed a little bit of freedom at the time and so I gave it to you. I was willing to wait for a more appropriate time. And I continued to wait after you buried him. That was fine because in the end I knew I would win. But now there no longer is any excuse…I am no longer willing to wait, or to share. I did not get rid of that Erik character for no reason, though I must admit the task was far easier than I had anticipated. The man was no more trusting than a caged animal. He must have been glad to be gone, free of your delicious charms."
Opening her mouth to spout some sort of venom at the man leaning over her Brielle was interrupted when a hand clamped over her lips, smothering any words she was about to say. "Yes I know, you think you won't marry me. I admit I used too much force to turn you into my arms, what can I say I was getting frustrated, but before you say anything let me tell you a little secret. While you have been sleeping these last two days I have gone to certain extremes to insure your continued affection. You see I know you so well that I knew you would try to back out of the wedding over our little disagreement. I have watched you for so long that I know your every thought. That is why I wrote to the team of lawyers who represent the Donovan estates, asking them to begin court proceeding in a custody suit."
A slow smile spread across Andrew's face as he watched the confusion wrinkle Brielle's brow. "You see mother has missed Aria terribly. She worries that her grandchild is being raised by a penniless Irishwoman and won't have the proper care. Likewise, it is terribly disturbing that one of the Donovan bloodline is being raised in your Catholic beliefs. Given those circumstances and my influence, I don't think it would be very difficult for me to take my brother's child right out from under your nose. And let me be clear about this…if you choose to fight me further you will never see your daughter again."
Stilling suddenly Brielle stared up at Andrew's shadowed face in disbelief, her mind struggling to understand the gravity of his statement. This can't be real…this isn't right. This isn't how things are suppose to happen. When did everything go wrong?
"Ah, I have finally gotten your full attention. You see now what I am willing to do for you…or to you. And that is not even half of it…" he hissed into Brielle's ear. "I could do hundreds of nasty things to you and no one would care, not the servants, not the police, no one. You are alone…you could scream at the top of your lungs for the rest of your life and no one would ever come to your aid. I am your only connection to the rest of the world. If I give the word you could disappear and no one would think twice about it." Breathing heavily, Andrew removed his hand from over Brielle's mouth, his body sagging slightly as his eyes rolled dangerously within his skull.
"My brother would care." Brielle exclaimed as soon as her lips were free. Arching her back she attempted to throw the drunken man off of her, but the movement only seemed to rouse him. Shaking his head Andrew's alcohol dulled eyes focused back on her face.
"I am sure he would, if he knew. But I don't think he will find out about your troubles anytime soon." Hiccupping slightly, Andrew grinned down at her. "Any other ideas?" As an expression of dazed horror crept over Brielle's face the black eyed man eased up on his grip, releasing her wrists and sitting up straight on the edge of the bed.
Shrinking back from the monster masquerading as the man she had known for ten years Brielle rubbed her wrists furiously, trying desperately to get the feel of his skin off of her own. The full weight of her current situation finally began to sink into her foggy brain. She was in a foreign country with no friends to speak of. Her fiancé was really a possessive, half-crazed madman, who apparently held no qualms about stealing her life right out from under her nose. How did it come to this? When did things change? When did everything get out of control? This is not how my life is supposed to be!
Struggling to hold onto her line of thought, Brielle fisted her hands in the bed sheets under her hands. What can I do? There is nothing I can do! He could take everything from me and I can't do anything about it! I can't leave. I don't know anyone. There would be no one to help and where could I, a woman, find a job? If I left with Aria we might starve to death in the streets….I can't do anything! Panic raced through her system coloring every thought with shadow, delivering her into a darkness she had not glimpsed since the day of John's death…since the day her last friend on earth rode off into the night. Struggling to breathe through the paralyzing glue of her own terror, Brielle stared dumbly at Andrew as he slowly reached out and picked up the candle.
"I hope I have effectively put to rest any further arguments on this subject. Please try to be cordial form now on. I hate fighting with you," the man stated matter-of-factly, his eyes shining like polished buttons in the wavering light. Smiling softly down at the flame in his hands, Andrew slowly climbed to his feet. "John and I used to fight like this…and look where it got him." Without another word the young lord swayed toward the door, one hand out and groping in the darkness. When he reached the doorway the drunken man paused to blow out the candle, dropping the room into complete and suffocating blackness. The click of a key turning in the lock seemed to echo forever.
Rolling off the side of the bed Brielle stumbled across the room, her legs wobbling treacherously beneath her. Her breath sawing in and out of her throat from exertion she stumbled against the doorway. Blind, she felt for the doorknob. Grasping the cool brass knob in her hand she turned it with all the force she could manage. Finding it to be locked she pounded a fist against the door. Feeling trapped, animal instinct took over.
"Let me out! You cannot lock me in here! I am not an animal! Let me out!" She screamed wildly over and over again until her voice wore down to a croak and her fist felt bruised. No one answered her desperate call.
Sinking to the floor, Brielle dully noted the burning tracks of tears rolling down her cheeks. Listening to the quiet pressing in around her, the Irishwoman raised shaking hands to cover her face. As time ticked away, her heart slowly settled back into its normal rhythm. The panic subsided and her mind cleared. I cannot stay here. That is certain. It is just too dangerous…I cannot risk Andrew taking my baby away from me…I can't risk it. I have to get us out of here. I have to…no matter what…I have to. And as Brielle stared unblinkingly into the blackness, a plan began to form within her mind. She had made a decision and knew what to do.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It was now exactly five days before Christmas; there was a blanket of snow outside, the halls were decked with holly, but based solely upon the expressions of the Donovan women no outsider would have been able to divine this simple fact. Brielle sat rigidly in her chair at the dining table, her face as smooth and cold as a winter prairie, Aria matching her mother down to the tense slope of her shoulders. This was the first time in several days that Brielle had been permitted access to her child, but because of Andrew's hovering presence the reunion had been subdued at best. Mother and child sat opposite each other, their hands folded demurely in their laps.
At the head of the table Andrew glanced back and forth between the two, pleased with the obedience he saw in their silence. "I am glad you felt well enough to join us for dinner tonight, Brielle," he began, slowly bringing a steaming spoonful of soup to his lips.
Brielle's eyes flickered momentarily to the spoon hovering before Andrew's mouth before quickly dropping to her lap. "I missed your company, Andrew," she murmured, playing the part expected of her without blinking.
Smiling, the black eyed man sipped at his hot soup. "One of my menservants told me this morning that he found you wandering the halls late last night. Whatever were you doing up at such an hour?" he asked lightly.
Sucking in a breath Brielle searched for an acceptable answer. Damn these blasted servants…spying and whispering about everything I do… Every time she had slipped up in the last several days she had found herself imprisoned within her bedroom. But soon I won't have to worry about that anymore, she thought coldly as she watched Andrew take another spoonful of soup into his mouth. Feigning a bashful shrug Brielle fiddled with her napkin.
"I was hungry and I didn't want to trouble anyone. So I just went down and cut a few pieces of bread."
A tense quiet settled in the room then as Andrew searched Brielle's face for any sign of deception. Finding none, the man raised a hand to cover a small yawn. "Next time do wake someone."
"Of course," she replied, one corner of her mouth twitching upward slightly as she watched him rub at his eyes. Pushing her own soup away from her untouched, Brielle shook her head slightly when her daughter made a move to take a bite. Confused, Aria set her spoon down with a clatter.
A balding middle aged man stepped into the room then, his movements slow and deliberate as he walked across the room. "Shall I serve the next course my lord?" he asked, blinking his eyes rapidly as he waited for a reply. Nodding vaguely, Andrew dismissed the man.
Licking his lips, Andrew turned his attention once again to Brielle. "You must excuse me…I suddenly feel very tired."
"You have been overburdened these last few days, my lord," Brielle replied helpfully, setting her napkin onto the table next to her bowl. Turning her gaze to the doorway the white haired woman felt her heart skip a beat in her chest. When, after several minutes, no one returned from the kitchen the tiny smile gracing her lips spread until it pulled at her stitches.
"Do the servants always eat at the same time we do?" she asked quietly, though she already knew the answer.
"Yes, I never believed in making them wait until…until I was done," the young lord replied, his words slurring into each other.
"How kind of you," she said curtly, the tiniest hint of malice creeping into her tone as Andrew slumped limply down into his chair. "Your kindness has made tonight that much easier to plan."
"Plan…what are you talking about?"
Standing slowly, one hand pressed against her bruised ribs, Brielle walked across the room and quickly checked behind all the doors leading into the room; satisfied that no one would be sneaking into the room anytime soon she turned her attention back to the man now struggling to remain upright. "If you had demanded your servants to eat after you, I would not have been able to accurately time the sedative I placed in the food." Glancing at the clock on the wall, Brielle crossed her arms over her chest. "It has been exactly fifteen minutes since you first tasted the soup."
"You put something in my food?" Andrew replied slowly, his voice rising to bellow the last word.
"Yes…well not exactly. Since I did not know what exactly the cook would prepare tonight I couldn't very well have contaminated a single dish. Instead I laced all the salt in the kitchen with a powerful sedative your kindly doctor provided to me when I complained of a lack of sleep. You see, being a woman, I knew that no matter the dish salt would be a vital ingredient."
"Damned woman…how will this help you! Now you leave me no choice but to remove my niece from your care…You will be lucky if I ever let you out of your room….You will beg me to…" Falling from his chair in an attempt to stand, Andrew landed on the floor with a crash. "Charles!" he bellowed for his manservant, only receiving silence for his trouble.
"I will never ask you for anything again as long as I live!" Brielle hissed furiously as she crossed the room and led Aria away from the man on the floor. "And now you will know what it feels like to call for help and have no one answer you! Rot on that floor for all I care. By the time you wake up my lord we will be gone."
"You won't get away with this you potato-pounding Irish slut!" Andrew shouted after her as Brielle pulled Aria out of the room.
Racing down the hallway with her daughter in tow, Brielle dodged into a side room and grabbed a bag she had hidden there earlier, stuffed full of plain clothing for both herself and Aria along with a wad of cash she had managed to steal from one of Andrew's discarded greatcoats. Speaking quickly, Brielle headed toward the nearest staircase. "Alright love, we are going to leave this place now because if we don't some bad people are going to try and take you back to England."
Apparently terrified by the thought of being taken from her mother, Aria clung to Brielle's skirts. "Don't worry though," Brielle continued lightly, "I won't let that happen."
Climbing the stairs quickly, Brielle made her way to Aria's bed room. Stripping the child in moments, the white haired woman snatched as many warm layers of clothing out of the closet as she could, redressing her daughter snuggly in suitable winter gear. Grabbing Aria's favorite doll, the one she used to call Erik, Brielle stuffed the toy into her already bursting bag before making her way down the hall to her own room. Likewise ridding herself of the thin silk garment she wore, Brielle donned a plain brown dress hidden deep within her closet. Wrapping a discarded dust cloth about her head to hide the trademark color of her hair, the white haired woman moved to walk out her door.
A young serving girl stepped into the doorway just then, blocking Brielle's path. Recognizing the girl instantly as the quiet spoken cook sent to her house all those months ago before Erik left, Brielle continued forward.
"What did you do to everyone Madame! I walked into the kitchen and everyone was laying on the floor. Not one of them moving at all!" the girl squeaked, her voice quivering in fright. "You poisoned them all didn't you!"
"No, they are just sleeping…no one is hurt."
"You killed everyone Madame!" Adeline continued, ignoring Brielle's words. "They are dead and if you leave the police will blame me! You would have killed me too if I had not felt too ill to eat tonight!" Hysteria edged into the girl's voice, making her speech almost unrecognizable.
"Adeline…" Brielle started slowly, trying to soothe the frantic girl. "No one has died. Everyone is just…."
"Well I won't let you leave me alone to talk to the police!"
Sensing something dangerous in the girl's words, Brielle rushed forward to take hold of the door. Before her hand could close about the doorknob, Adeline swung the white plank of wood shut in her face. The all too familiar click of a key turning in the lock reached Brielle's ears. Pounding a fist against the door, the white haired woman listened as Adeline's terrified footsteps retreated down the hall.
"Damn, damn, damn!" Brielle howled, dropping the cloak she had in her hand onto the floor. "What now! Damn that girl!"
Feeling the first tremors of panic seize her heart like a fist, Brielle began to pace the room wildly. An insistent tug upon her skirts stopped her cursing as the Irishwoman glanced down at her daughter's quiet face. "What is it, love?" Brielle asked a little impatiently. "Momma has to think of a new way to leave."
Without a word Aria raised her arm and pointed solemnly at the window. Following her daughter's finger, Brielle slowly nodded her head in understanding. "You are smarter than your momma, Aria," she said, donning the discarded cloak and snatching up the bag. Running to the window Brielle threw open the casements and gazed out onto the undisturbed white of the yard ten feet below them. A blast of bitter cold air rushed into the room, lifting the curtains from the walls.
"That is a long way down," she murmured, looking uncertainly toward Aria's small form as the child came to stand beside her. With a shrug the small girl dismissed the height, showing she wasn't afraid.
"Alright," Brielle said resolutely. Turning, she lifted the bag from the floor and tossed it out the window. Brushing snow off the window ledge, Brielle caught her knee on the edge and eased herself outside. Hindered by her skirts, she nearly tipped into the darkness below her. Looking to both sides Brielle let out a surprised burst of laughter when she caught sight of a white trellis gleaming against the side of the house just a foot from her window. Grabbing hold of one of the white rungs to anchor herself Brielle knelt to help Aria clamber up onto the ledge next to her.
"Ok, this is what we are going to do," she said slowly. "We are going to climb down this little ladder here and run to the stables. We will borrow one of the horses there so we won't have to walk in the snow. Sound good?" Nodding her head Aria glanced briefly at the trellis, then the ground, the tiniest flicker of fear clouding her small face.
"It will be ok. I will help you down. All you have to do is hold onto me," Brielle assured the little girl as Aria wrapped her arms around her mother's neck. Pulling herself upright by the hand clutching the trellis, Brielle hugged her daughter to her hip tightly despite the arrows of pain lacing up her side. Slowly she eased a foot out onto the makeshift ladder, testing its strength. When the thin rung of wood held her weight Brielle moved her other foot next to her first, clinging to the side of the house like a monkey. One-handed, she carefully lowered first one foot, then the other, to a lower level on the trellis. Minutes ticked by as she concentrated on both keeping her balance and not dropping Aria.
When her feet sank into several inches of snow, Brielle released a thankful sigh. "That wasn't so hard," she offered to the night, suddenly feeling as if she were invincible. Everything will be ok. Once we get to Paris things won't be so bad. If I look hard enough I will find work and a place to stay…Everything will be ok.
Stooping to let her daughter down, Brielle picked up their hastily packed bag. Ignoring the pain these motions caused she set off toward the stables, Aria following on her heels. Everything will be ok…everything will be ok, she repeated in her mind as the pair quietly broke into the stables and saddled a sleepy-looking mare. Tying their bag behind the saddle, the white haired woman turned and pulled Aria's hat down further over her ears. Leading the shaggy animal to the stable door, Brielle smiled grimly at the looming shadow of the manor. Everything will be ok…
Lifting Aria up onto the animal's back, Brielle clumsily climbed up after her. Settling into the saddle, astride like a man, she readjusted her skirts and cloak. Tucking the corners of her outer garment about Aria's slight form, Brielle chirruped to the gentle horse and nudged the animal with her heels. Plodding stealthily down the darkened drive, the pair soon came to the country road at its end. Urging the mare to a trot Brielle steered the animal down the road toward their ultimate destination, Paris.
Everything will be alright…she thought one last time, more as a prayer now than a certainty. Everything will be alright.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Three days later, everything was not alright. It was the day before Christmas Eve and Brielle found herself shivering in one of Paris' many back alleys rather than warm by a roaring fire. At first the city's rambling causeways and maze-like side streets had seemed a blessing. A person could lose themselves easily within the crowds scurrying through the soiled snow. But what Brielle had not counted on was the outrageous inflation and widespread shortages the winter season had created within the city of lights.
The money she had stolen, which she had been counting on to last them until she got a job, had barely lasted more than a day. Fearful of someone recognizing her odd coloring, Brielle had stopped by a wig maker's shop and bought the cheapest realistic wig she could find. Now a black haired woman with long bangs in front to conceal some of her features, Brielle looked more like Aria's mother than ever before. But that had been before she realized just how expensive city life was for a single woman with a child, before she had discovered just how cold hearted Paris really was.
The rest of her money had been spent on two nights' boarding in a rat infested slum whose hallways smelled suspiciously of human urine. With nothing left to afford the soaring prices for bread Brielle had gone two days with nothing to eat, giving her daughter what little food she could afford, cursing all the while her stupidity for buying a wig to disguise her hair when she could have used the money for another loaf of bread.
And now they were left with nothing, forced to walk the blistering cold city streets because they could not afford another days' rent. The prospect of having to spend the night without a roof over their heads hung heavily in Brielle's mind. She had seen still mounds of rags covering the shivering homeless down the less traveled alleys. The ones that still shivered were lucky, for she had also noticed the stiff, frozen bodies of the unlucky poor who had not made it through the night. Think Brielle, think! We have to find somewhere to stay. Somewhere for free…that allows single women…Oh God…What am I going to do?
Shifting her bag into her other hand Brielle stretched her stiff back. This blasted bag seems to get heavier with each passing minute. Lowering her head, the now black haired woman leaned a tired shoulder against a cold brick wall. Feeling Aria's gaze upon her Brielle smiled crookedly, making a brave attempt to hold back the frustrated and desperate tears forming in her eyes. I must take care of Aria…even if I have to go hungry for a week I must take care of her. I have to find a place for her to stay…I have to find her food. If I don't, what kind of mother would I be…Already I am a failure for putting her through this…. Pounding a fist against the wall behind her Brielle could feel her bottom lip begin to tremble.
Just as the gravity of the situation threatened to crush her under its weight, Brielle felt a tiny hand reach up and give a tug upon her skirts. Looking down, the Irish woman watched Aria looking off down the road. "What is it love?" Brielle asked tiredly, her eyes following her daughter's gaze but not seeing anything of any use to them.
Pointing, Aria tugged once again on her mother's skirts before setting off down the street on her own. Alarmed at her daughter's quick departure Brielle jumped and pushed away from the wall, snagging their bag as she took off after Aria's retreating figure. Turning first one corner then another in hot pursuit of the child Brielle burst out onto a wide open area, nearly running right over Aria's now stationary body.
"What is wrong with you!" Brielle nearly screamed, grabbing hold of the child's arm in a vise-like grip. "Someone could have kidnapped you! Or you could have gotten lost! Don't ever run away from me again! Do you hear me, don't you ever…." Slowly the tirade came to a grinding halt when Brielle noticed Aria's wide slate gray eyes turn across the open area to the grand building sitting not fifty yards away.
Tilting her head back to gaze up at the ten story masterpiece, Brielle released Aria. Recognition flickered across the tired woman's face as her eyes traveled over the rich architecture and elaborate statues of the Paris Opera House. A stunned frown tightened her mouth. It has been almost a year now since I have been here…funny, this is where I met Erik for the first time.
Forgetting her many troubles for a moment, Brielle gave into her daughter's urgings and followed the child to stand at the bottom stair of one of the building's many grand entrances. Old heart ache she was sure she had rid herself of welled up within her, tugging at her already battered heart relentlessly. This is where I first met Erik…Shaking her head slightly Brielle turned her face from the building, turned from the feelings it rekindled within her. Intending to leave Garnier's masterpiece behind, the Irishwoman looked around for Aria only to discover the child waving from the top of the stairs.
Huffing slightly, the unending responsibilities returning to weigh upon her shoulders, Brielle placed a fist on her hip. "Enough playing, it is time to go." When Aria only continued to wave down at her Brielle hiked up her skirts and charged up the stairs, anger at her daughter's disobedience burning through her body. "Come on Aria! There are more important things for us to be doing right…" Stopping in mid-sentence Brielle watched infuriated as Aria turned and disappeared into the opera house through the closest door.
Grumbling several curses under her breath, Brielle ran up the last remaining steps and threw open the same door she had seen Aria disappear through. Disorientated for a moment by the dimness inside Brielle slowed her pace, looking around through snow blinded eyes, waiting for her vision to adjust to the shadows. Closing her eyes for a moment the Irish woman realized just how warm the building was. Flexing frozen fingers she tilted her face upwards, loving the tingling racing over her cold body. God…I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be warm…Sighing, Brielle opened her eyes.
"Aria?" she called in a hushed voice, certain that at any moment someone would come along and throw them out. Shifting her bag uncertainly from one hand to the other, Brielle stepped further into an unfamiliar section of the opera. Having only ever entered the building through the entrance reserved for those arriving in carriages the Irish woman couldn't quite find her bearings. Following the sound of voices, Brielle quietly crept along several deserted passageways. "Aria!"
Pushing open a door stealthily, Brielle found herself in the building's grand theater. The ballet troupe apparently was practicing on stage. Intending to back out the way she had come, Brielle suddenly noticed Aria's black head bobbing above several of the red velvet seats a few rows away from her. Cursing under her breath, Brielle shut the door behind her and hurried in a stooped over fashion to retrieve her daughter from where the impossible child sat in the sixth row. Quickly coming up alongside Aria's still form, Brielle bent to latch onto the child's arm and drag her back out of the theater.
"What are you doing in here!" she hissed, a little louder than she had intended.
"That is exactly the same question I was about to ask you," an authoritative female voice called in irritated French from stage left. All the twittering ballerinas stilled at that voice, sending the entire theater into a disquieting silence.
Brielle's heart skipped a beat as she slowly brought her eyes up to survey the multitude of faces staring straight at her. She froze like a deer in a hunter's sights, her eyes widening and dirty face draining of all color. Her skin itched where she imagined something was crawling on her. Trying to snap out of the instinctual shyness threatening to overpower her sense, Brielle deliberately focused her gaze upon the slender, middle-aged woman onstage.
"I…uh…well I…"