Chapter II
I drew in my breath sharply and froze. I knew what to expect now. This was not the first time doors had disappeared in this house, and I bit back a small cry before whirling around to face the piano.
His presence was so sudden; it took me a moment to register it at all. The letter was elegantly poised in his hand as he read, a frozen posture that was somehow even more intimidating than had he moved at all. The bare light gleamed against the black mask and rippled with the velvety cloak he wore. A black shadow…Unmoving and unrelenting. Tall, dark, and a frightening apparition of the night. His head lifted then to look at me, the invitation lowering, and I felt a shiver run up my spine as his eyes met mine, electrifying even in my fear.
"Very well written, my dear."
At the moment he spoke, the letter disappeared from his hand and I inhaled sharply.
Even as it sounded inane, I knew of nothing else to say: "…Thank you."
There was a tense moment of silence. Somehow I thought that our meeting would be different than this, but now I knew of no words to speak and began to edge resolutely towards where the door had been.
His voice stopped me. The voice I could never block out. The unearthly beauty that made me believe he was an Angel.
"Are you leaving me so soon? Don't be impolite, Christine. Stay for a few minutes, won't you? It is not often I have the pleasure of company…Please, have a seat…"
It was impossible for me to refuse. I nodded and moved towards a couch. His eyes followed my every move. Unnerved by them, I looked away and sat down cautiously.
Erik spoke again. And though his gaze was still burning, his tone was, as ever, courteously formal. "Would you like something to drink?"
"Yes," I agreed quickly, eager for anything I could concentrate on besides his penetrating stare.
He gestured to the small end table directly beside me. A petite glass was already there, though I could not really remember it being there before…I picked it up but didn't drink, staring down at its contents silently. Raoul was probably at home right now, worrying, thinking about where I was and becoming even more angry and worried…
Once again his voice sliced through my thoughts. "Is something wrong?"
I looked up at Erik and shook my head too quickly; I have never been a good liar to speak of. "N—No…"
I knew he must not believe me. I did not even believe myself, but Erik didn't question it further. He only changed the subject to a more sensitive one, and I wondered for a moment if he was aware.
"Does he know you are here?"
I swallowed before answering. "Yes…"
He studied me for a moment without speaking from where he stood, like a statue by the dust-covered piano, and then made a slight gesture. "Drink, Christine."
I lifted the glass to my lips, lowering my gaze from his as I took a small sip. It was cold and tasted somewhat like tea…If not a bit strong. I lowered the glass again and kept my eyes down as well.
"And he allowed you to come?"
The question was like a slap in the face, and I drew back somewhat, lowering my head until pieces of my hair fell across my eyes. "I…He…He did not want me to come, no."
He still had not moved from that spot and I kept my hands clasped tightly around the glass, twisting them, anxiously. I don't know what made me continue, to tell him everything that happened, but I couldn't stop myself. Perhaps I needed to tell someone. "He was saddened at first…Then angry…And then he said that if I came here that he would not take me back."
I did not look at him and he was silent for a few moments, seeming to be thinking over what I had said. I blinked back a few tears that managed to surface and hoped he didn't see them. I felt almost ashamed of my sadness and devotion towards someone who was so quick to cancel something so important as engagement to marriage that would seal our love. Erik seemed to have put his trust in Raoul that last night, and I was sure I had just ruined that. Perhaps my trust in Raoul was ruined as well after what had happened. I didn't know what to feel about it…I was no longer angry, just terribly hurt. Did Raoul really believe our marriage was of no value or importance? That it was something he could cancel as simply as a restaurant reservation?
"I don't…He was serious…"
Erik began to move towards me soundlessly, and all words were forgotten. Slowly my head raised, and as he approached, my gaze never left him. I was suddenly too mesmerized to be surprised. His movements, graceful and so swift I had no time to react, he tipped two fingers under the glass and raised it back to my lips, lifting it slowly and bidding me to drink from it. I did obediently, having no strength or will to resist. He did not back away until I finished every drop. I lowered the glass and set it back down on the table shakily, my eyes still locked on his.
The tone of his voice was soft and comforting, a way I hadn't heard him speak in a long time. Perfectly musical within itself. "Would you like me to play for you before you leave?"
I nodded and leaned back against the couch, not realizing how long of a walk it was from Raoul's estate to the Opera and how just now I began to feel the aftermath. I felt exhausted. He stepped away from me and distinctly I felt my muscles relax. I closed my eyes as the first chords were struck in a beautiful melody I couldn't recall hearing before. It soothed even the slight pain in my feet, and before long the rich full notes were the only thing filling my mind. My breathing deepened and distantly I saw a shadow. A blackness that gradually grew from a little pinpoint to cover my whole consciousness. The music was progressively swallowing me, drowning me, invading my senses until I was aware of nothing else. A distant melody echoed in my mind as I felt myself slipping into a deep warmth. I did nothing to fight the sleep, and relaxed completely as my eyelids fell and I lost myself in the darkness.
~~~~~~~~~******~~~~~~~~~******~~~~~~~~~
I did not cease to play for a quarter of an hour until the sonata ended. I knew I needed not continue, for the narcotic in the drink had finished its iniquitous work within a matter of moments. No, that was not the reason…The music for me was generous. If I continued to play, I did not have to register the reality that she slept behind me on the sofa that had for weeks held nothing but the gathering dust. I did not have to regard the impending consequences of the deed I had just begun. The plan so carefully wrought and so patiently executed. I had waited for a dreadfully long time, but I needed these fifteen minutes of separation from the world as the crystal notes fell from my fingers and the silted dust shivered over the wooden surface in the regular light of the lamps.
Now retard…The coda stretched on, one of the most elaborate and lingering cadences in written music…A pity she was not awake to hear it. But it could not last forever, and then there was silence. And the empty music stand of the piano before me. So silent that I thought, She has disappeared. It was only a brief dream. The same I had dreamt day after night since she had walked out that door for the last time. And it would be the last time. The last time she would ever leave me in this life.
I turned and she was there. Now I could hear the soft sound of her breath as the strands of hair fallen across her neck rose and sank with the deep slumber. Dear, unhappy Christine, you have returned, and you belong to the night once more. Forevermore.
Leaning over her oblivious sleeping form, I lifted her from the dust-covered couch.
"This is no place for an angel to dream."
The words were soft though I knew nothing could wake her now. I had forgotten how light she was as I held her in my arms…Like an arrested sparrow…Could it be that she was lighter? Her skin was pale and her face thinner. It seemed she had not slept for days. She had been falling with no one to catch her. So light…Like the petal of a flower…
I carried her to her room and laid her on the clean coverlet of the bed. Dimming the light beside her, the flawless cameo that was her silhouette before the glow seemed surrounded by an impenetrable halo. She lay as perfectly and as serene as martyred saint.
The jeweled engagement ring she had been wearing on her finger that I now held before my eye seemed almost dull in this light. I let it fall into my grasp before it disappeared like a good ring. A well-trained trinket in a flash of sleight-of-hand. It hadn't even fit her dainty finger very well.
"Soon, Christine…Very soon…"
The jarring sound of the electric alarm bell broke the celestial atmosphere. It was sudden but not unexpected. Despite all of his flaws, the Vicomte de Chagny has always seemed to have impeccable timing.
