Chapter 10
"So, how do I look?" Christine asked hesitantly.
"And I?" Meg piped up.
Yulia surveyed both young woman as they stood before her in their masquerade garb. "I see Persephone and a wood nymph before me. You both look wonderful."
They smiled. "And when do we see your costume? What go you possibly be to need your hair piled up like that?" Meg asked.
"I'll be there shortly; I want to make an entrance," Yulia said.
"You're so dramatic!" Christine exclaimed while Meg examined herself in Christine's floor length dressing room mirror.
There was a knock at the door. "Mademoiselle?"
Christine a quick look at Yulia's bag, then went to greet Raoul.
"Such lovely ladies in my midst! I truly am blest! Wonderful friends and beautiful fian—"
"Shh!" Christine hissed.
Raoul gave her a bewildered stare for a moment, then examine Yulia. "Mlle. Kazakova, aren't you coming?"
"I lack a man at my side, so I intend to make an grand exhibit of myself; I'll be there shortly, Monsieur le Vicomte."
"Hurry up, Yulia! Come on, you two! We can't miss any of the ball!" Meg cried, dragging the couple out of the room.
With them gone, Yulia changed into her costume and administered her make-up. She then tied a bright red ribbon around her neck.
When she found her appearance acceptable, and went to leave, when a wry voice asked, "Going as a daughter of the guillotine, my dear?"
Yulia whirled around. "You watched me dress, monsieur?"
"Of course not! What do you take me for?"
"I wouldn't have minded if you had. May I see you now?"
"You'll see me soon enough."
"Well, in that case, M. Erik, I must be off. I promised Daaé and the Vicomte that I wouldn't miss their celebration."
He laughed mildly. "I doubt the management would throw this type of a party to honor only one of their patrons."
"Oh? You don't know, yet, do you?" Yulia asked innocently.
"What do you mean?" the ghostly voice demanded.
Yulia kept her expression blank. "Daaé and the Vicomte de Changy are engaged, Monsieur le Fantome."
Yulia was completely unprepared for the cry of rage and grief that seemed to take the room and her with it into the depths of hell and deeper.
"Are you going to be alright, sir?" she asked out of genuine concern.
"Go to your ball, Yulia Alexandrovna. Go!"
Yulia bowed to the mirror and quickly obeyed.
"Hello, oh—Yulia, my, your costume is so…" Christine faltered.
"Dear God, you look like you're off to a bal du victimes!" Raoul exclaimed.
Yulia's dark hair was curled on top of her head, adorned by a silver tiara. She wore a high-collared, but low-cut sixteenth century-style gown of crushed velvet the color of dried blood with layers of black lace. Her eyes were heavily lined and her lips were as red as the ribbon around her neck; her face had been powdered dead white. She looked positively vampiric.
She put on her black lace mask that only covered the area around her eyes. "One night of freedom, my friends! Raoul, may I please have just one dance with my friend's dashing fiancé?"
Raoul obliged.
"She looks like an undead bride! Meg, why the red cord?" Christine asked.
Meg shrugged. "I suppose, to indicate that her head's been severed."
Christine paled. "Oh."
And so the party continued, with all the lavish gaiety that would be expected. Then, suddenly, the music halted, and Yulia turned to the grand staircase to see a red specter descend down it, tossing a score to one of the managers. It then approached Christine, tearing the chain that held her engagement ring from her neck. Yulia felt a pang of guilt. But then, the apparition disappeared, and chaos broke out. Meg ran to Christine, as the vicomte chased after Mme. Giry. A baffled Yulia headed to Daaé's dressing room.
A/N: Okay, quick question: should Yulia see or not see poor Erik without his mask? It really isn't vital to the plot, so I'll leave it up to you. The good point is she isn't the type to run away screaming, however, she's not exactly empathetic, either. So, please r/r! ^_^;;
"So, how do I look?" Christine asked hesitantly.
"And I?" Meg piped up.
Yulia surveyed both young woman as they stood before her in their masquerade garb. "I see Persephone and a wood nymph before me. You both look wonderful."
They smiled. "And when do we see your costume? What go you possibly be to need your hair piled up like that?" Meg asked.
"I'll be there shortly; I want to make an entrance," Yulia said.
"You're so dramatic!" Christine exclaimed while Meg examined herself in Christine's floor length dressing room mirror.
There was a knock at the door. "Mademoiselle?"
Christine a quick look at Yulia's bag, then went to greet Raoul.
"Such lovely ladies in my midst! I truly am blest! Wonderful friends and beautiful fian—"
"Shh!" Christine hissed.
Raoul gave her a bewildered stare for a moment, then examine Yulia. "Mlle. Kazakova, aren't you coming?"
"I lack a man at my side, so I intend to make an grand exhibit of myself; I'll be there shortly, Monsieur le Vicomte."
"Hurry up, Yulia! Come on, you two! We can't miss any of the ball!" Meg cried, dragging the couple out of the room.
With them gone, Yulia changed into her costume and administered her make-up. She then tied a bright red ribbon around her neck.
When she found her appearance acceptable, and went to leave, when a wry voice asked, "Going as a daughter of the guillotine, my dear?"
Yulia whirled around. "You watched me dress, monsieur?"
"Of course not! What do you take me for?"
"I wouldn't have minded if you had. May I see you now?"
"You'll see me soon enough."
"Well, in that case, M. Erik, I must be off. I promised Daaé and the Vicomte that I wouldn't miss their celebration."
He laughed mildly. "I doubt the management would throw this type of a party to honor only one of their patrons."
"Oh? You don't know, yet, do you?" Yulia asked innocently.
"What do you mean?" the ghostly voice demanded.
Yulia kept her expression blank. "Daaé and the Vicomte de Changy are engaged, Monsieur le Fantome."
Yulia was completely unprepared for the cry of rage and grief that seemed to take the room and her with it into the depths of hell and deeper.
"Are you going to be alright, sir?" she asked out of genuine concern.
"Go to your ball, Yulia Alexandrovna. Go!"
Yulia bowed to the mirror and quickly obeyed.
"Hello, oh—Yulia, my, your costume is so…" Christine faltered.
"Dear God, you look like you're off to a bal du victimes!" Raoul exclaimed.
Yulia's dark hair was curled on top of her head, adorned by a silver tiara. She wore a high-collared, but low-cut sixteenth century-style gown of crushed velvet the color of dried blood with layers of black lace. Her eyes were heavily lined and her lips were as red as the ribbon around her neck; her face had been powdered dead white. She looked positively vampiric.
She put on her black lace mask that only covered the area around her eyes. "One night of freedom, my friends! Raoul, may I please have just one dance with my friend's dashing fiancé?"
Raoul obliged.
"She looks like an undead bride! Meg, why the red cord?" Christine asked.
Meg shrugged. "I suppose, to indicate that her head's been severed."
Christine paled. "Oh."
And so the party continued, with all the lavish gaiety that would be expected. Then, suddenly, the music halted, and Yulia turned to the grand staircase to see a red specter descend down it, tossing a score to one of the managers. It then approached Christine, tearing the chain that held her engagement ring from her neck. Yulia felt a pang of guilt. But then, the apparition disappeared, and chaos broke out. Meg ran to Christine, as the vicomte chased after Mme. Giry. A baffled Yulia headed to Daaé's dressing room.
A/N: Okay, quick question: should Yulia see or not see poor Erik without his mask? It really isn't vital to the plot, so I'll leave it up to you. The good point is she isn't the type to run away screaming, however, she's not exactly empathetic, either. So, please r/r! ^_^;;