The church was virtually empty when Christine arrived, as she glanced nervously about her. Through her veil she could make out a few familiar faces from the opera house and, at the very end, seated close to where Raoul was standing, she could see Madame Giry and Meg; their faces full of anticipation as they turned around to face her.

All eyes were on her as she slowly proceeded down the aisle; even Raoul had turned around to watch; his eyes so full of love. Fear seized her heart as she shuffled forever closer, no-one at her side to guide her. All were watching as she walked; commenting on the beauty of the wedding dress that had taken weeks to design. Yet it was not white, as the fashion was, she couldn't bring herself to wear that colour; instead it was an off cream, which shifted to gold as she walked. The lace that covered the bodice and clung tightly to her waist was a hundred years old at least, and had been imported especially from Italy. She looked beautiful, and she knew it, as she had known when she had first seen herself in the mirror that morning, astounded by own reflection. As she passed the people they sighed, commenting on what a beautiful couple her and Raoul would make…Yet they couldn't see the piece of ribbon that she had carefully laced around her wrist, obstructed from prying eyes. As she walked a strand became lose and she began to wrap her little finger about it nervously. For some reason the ribbon brought her great comfort, as she felt it slip between her fingers. She could have never worn the flower...that would have drawn too much attention.

As she stood at the altar and Raoul slipped her hand in hers she flinched, yelping at the sudden pain that shot through her finger tip. With concern he examined her hand and the tiny pin prick of blood that had formed and now rolled off her finger, splattering on her gown. Only Christine knew that one of the pricks from the rose must have been caught on the ribbon, and had caused her to bleed. Yet still the vows were said, and still the deed was down. And as Raoul lifted the veil to bring her close to kiss her; to seal their marriage vows in front of the entire world, he failed to see that Christine had been quietly crying to herself throughout. She felt his mouth against hers and smiled at the thought that they were finally together; they were finally husband and wife…

Yet as he led her down the aisle, the guests offering cheers of congratulations and throwing petals up into the air, Christine looked over her shoulder and met the eyes of Meg and her mother, her eyes searching the alcoves before looking up to the cloisters. It was unmistakeable, this feeling that closed in on her from all sides. She had felt it since she had entered the church, and all through the ceremony, and as Raoul kissed her she had felt it more than ever. Madame Giry lifted her eyes and saw him, cowering in the shadows, where Christine could not see. But Christine knew he had been their watching over her. She had known that he would be there, watching it all.

The afternoon was a whirlwind of dancing and romance. It seemed to Christine that she had been pulled on every side, endless questions about what was going to happen next; where were they going to live. Were they going to leave Paris? Was she to retire from public life and give up singing for good? Christine was gracious and courteous; she was after all a Countess. Raoul had been constantly at her side but had said very little to her; in addressing her it would often be so that the whole room could hear. Very soon Christine felt nauseous, having eaten too much fine food and drunk a little too much champagne. In a brief moment when attention was diverted away from her and onto the exquisite wedding cake, Christine stole out of the ballroom and into one of the adjoining passages, half hiding herself away in one of the windows. The sun was struggling to come out; feint traces of light penetrating the grey, but still the black clouds quilted the sky; the promise of rain lying not far behind.

Christine was startled at a hand on her shoulder and, on turning round, was squeezed affectionately by Meg who chortled, "Oh Christine you look so beautiful; and so happy! I'm so happy for you!"

Christine smiled, comforted some what by the chatter of her oldest friend. But this smile quickly evaporated when she saw Madame Giry approach her and take her hand. She had no reason to fear her; she had, after all, saved her from a life of poverty and taken her to the opera house. But something about the way she looked her, searching her face for something that remained unsaid made Christine feel uneasy, and she flinched slightly at such signs of affection.

"You did well my dear. You have made me proud." Madame Giry petted the back of her hand before dropping it.

"You really think so?" Christine implored, laughing a little hysterically before continuing, "I was sure that I had ruined everything when I had hurt my hand, and look…" She said holding out the skirt of her dress and indicating the drop of blood. "I have ruined my dress, for it shall never come out!"

Suddenly, Madame Giry reached out and grabbed Christine's hand, twisting it slightly so that fabric of her shawl slide back up her arm. She saw the black ribbon that had been knotted, with such care, around her wrist. Her eyes shot up to Christine, who jumped back as if Madame Giry had burnt her.

The two women could say nothing as Raoul retreated from the ballroom and headed to where they were standing. Meg, who looked at Christine with wide eyed surprise said nothing and Raoul, who was flushed from the heat of the room, panted, "Well, Little Lottie, I have made your excuses to our guests and told them that you have gone to rest…"He smiled to himself, leaning forward to kiss Christine's cheek and whisper, so that the other women couldn't hear, "For you shall need your rest for tonight."

Christine flushed crimson and Madame Giry, fully picking up on the innuendo shooed Raoul back and said, "You must go back to your guests then and leave Christine with me. Meg and I will take care of her. Do not worry," she insisted, seeing the look of concern grow on his face, "She will be quite looked after."

At this Raoul smiled and, pulling Christine towards her he said, "Until tonight then," before kissing her passionately. Madame Giry saw Christine's eyes close but her body pull away, as if she longed to be released. Swiftly, she took Christine by the hand and led her way, leaving Meg to scurry after.