Chapter 7
It was a bright Sunday morning and the weather forecast was promising for those who enjoyed outdoor activities. Marinette had granted the young ballerinas a rare day off. They had been working hard and deserved a break. It also helped that they had selected Meg as their diplomat to convince Marinette too. "Just don't forget to be back before dusk!" Marinette had shouted after the giggling dancers. She rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips, her warning, of course, had gone unnoticed. With them picnicking by Sien, she was sure two or three of them would come back with a cold. Still, it was nice to have the opera house to herself, she hadn't had the chance to properly explore it.
Everytime she brought it up to Madame Giry, her aunt would crossily state that there was nothing left to see. But there was always that look in her aunt's eyes that would always tell a different tale. So decidedly Marinette took her own liberty to see what the Populair was really like, it would also give her the chance to find new things to repair. Marinette had to admit the cosmetic work that the builders had done far was amazing. The rotting smell was nearly gone along with any sign of the fire that ravaged its halls. But, the deeper she walked into the opera house the more apparent the scars had become. There were certain areas that were so damaged that the whole interior and exterior would need to be removed and replaced.
"It's a good thing this part will never be seen by the public, I can fix this up with my earnings from the show." Marinette mumbled to herself as she ran her hands over the marred wood. Marinette continued her exploration, she wanted to find one thing and one thing only. She'd heard some of the younger ballerinas whispering about a haunted chapel. Rumor has it that the chapel was haunted by Christine Daae's predecessor Carlotta. Her love Piangi had been struck down in his prime and the rumor is that she went insane and flung herself from a balcony. Marinette, at the time, had snubbed her nose at the idea of a ghost in the opera house. Given this track record of the Populair and ghosts, it couldn't be more than fiction. But boredom had gotten the better of Marinette and the possibility of finding a ghost was better than sitting in her office with nothing to do.
Besides, Carlotta had returned to Italy after the whole debacle here, from Marinette's understanding she was living a quiet and isolated life now. But Christine...well she was a Vicomtess and surely her days were constantly filled. No one here really spoke of Christine, even if they had wanted to, they didn't. Christine had faded into the dark with the rest of the Populairs' history. Even Meg, whom she grew up with, seldom talked about her. But when she did there was nothing but warmth and friendship in her eyes. "I loved her like a sister, I miss the days we would scurry around and giggle." Meg had once confided in her cousin. "Haven't you written to one another?" Marinette had questioned. "In the very beginning, yes, we would send two or three letters a week. But eventually, they became fewer and fewer until they just stopped one day. I kept writing and writing but eventually they would be sent back to me." Meg sighed sadly.
"I'm so sorry Meg." Marinette hadn't really known what to say at the time. Friendships were not her area of expertise. "It's fine Mari, now that I think of it, it was rather very presumptuous of me." Meg smiled half-heartedly. "Presumptuous?" Marinette had turned to her cousin in disbelief. "Well yes, she's a Vicomtess and I'm nothing more than a working class woman. I'm nearly lower class and it's not appropriate for me to reach above my station." Marinette couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Meg Giry, you hold your tongue! You are the most kind and exquisite person I've ever met. For someone who was raised alongside you as a sister, it's really calloused that she would just discard you. Money and power shouldn't separate you from those you love. How ungraceful of her, being Vicomtess and all." Marinette widened her eyes and covered her mouth. Meg's eyes were beginning to fill with tears and Marinette scolded herself for letting her anger get the better of her.
"Oh please don't cry Meg, I'm sorry." Marinette walked over to her cousin and embraced her as her tiny body began to shake. "No you're right to say those things. But despite everything, I still hold a sisterly love for her. Besides, I'm not sure if it's completely her doing or if it's Raoul who's barring our friendship." Meg wiped her tears from her face and sighed. "This is why I shall never marry." Marinette folded her arms and huffed. "What?" Meg looked up at her cousin, for a moment Marinette had to hold back a laugh. Meg's face had become splotchy and red from her crying, she looked like a tomato. "What I mean is, I shall never marry unless I find a man worthy of being my equal. Marriage should be more of a partnership than an economic proposition. We as women, should get to be selective of our partners, not the other way around." Meg sighed again. "Marinette, were poor, women like us should be glad to find husbands at all, what with no dowry's and power."
"Dowry's are nothing but criteria that a man has put in place in order to benefit from marriage. Just because a man says it so, doesn't mean its law. If your husband sees you as nothing more than a cash cow and a breeder, then he's not worth your time nor your affections. A man who seeks to control his wife is neither honorable or a gentleman." Marinette folded her arms as Meg gave her the most bewildered look. Of course being Meg, she changed the subject to a more lighter tone and Marinette had happily obliged. Still, the things Meg had said made Marinette fairly upset, how could anyone turn their back on a childhood friend? Let alone two people who had raised them as their own in a loving and safe place. However, it wasn't all too uncommon for even blood relatives to turn on their loved ones. Marinette's own mother left her and had probably told the man she'd run off with that Marinette had perished alongside her father. Marinette shook her head to rid herself of the unpleasant memories of her mother. One thing was for sure, if she ever ran into Christine, she would have a few choice words, whether it be with her or her husband.
Paying attention to her surroundings she'd noticed that the scarred wood had been switched for ash ridden stone. It was good quality stone, sturdy and cool to the touch, the ash leaving behind imprints of the fire that had been. But the further she walked down the stone corridor the ash became nonexistent. "Well I supposed stone doesn't burn." Marinette mumbled to herself, nothing but the echo of her own voice answered her. After twenty more steps or so the entrance to the chapel came into sight. Marinette could feel her heartbeat pick up and she suddenly became giddy, the prospect of finding a ghost was thrilling. It was better than sitting in her office bored to tears anyways. Marinette stopped just short of entering and took a deep breath, whatever she found...it had better be ready for her.