Chapter Nine


Philippe had been reading quietly in his room when he heard a loud crash.

"What the devil could that be?" he wondered aloud. "Must be that silly maid
again. I really must consider hiring graceful maids."

He reflected for a little while.

"I wonder if that Daae girl is free?"

This time, a much louder, much closer crash was heard. Philippe stifled some
harsh words, threw down his book, flung open the door, and stomped down the hall only
to find Raoul dragging, or rather attempting to drag, his bed out of his chambers.

"What are you doing?" Philippe shouted, completely flabbergasted as to why
Raoul would decided to suddenly rearrange his room.

Raoul panted and gasped for breath.

"I told you, I'm leaving! I want to be . . . eh, what's the word, dear brother?"

"Independent?" Philippe suggested with a lifted eyebrow.

"Yes!" Raoul exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "I'm going to be enduhpindont," he
slurred out the words.

"I see," said Philippe thinking all the while 'Who's this nut?'

"Yes, and I can't leave you and be independent without taking my beautiful
clothings with me, now can I?"

"So you're going to take your entire wardrobe with you to the guest house on the
premises?"

"No, don't be ridiculous! I'm taking yours with me too!"

"What the deuce are you saying? You're feverish. Go to bed." Philippe gave the
dresser a shove and slammed the door in Raoul's face. "Silly boy! That Daae has got his
head twisted every way."

*******


Philippe climbed out of his coach and fell down in fright when he looked at his
lawn. Before he left for the Opera, it was perfect in every way, not a blade of grass out of
place. Now it was covered with Raoul bedroom. Literally. Every piece of furniture from
Raoul's chamber was in front of the chateau, arranged as the room had originally been.
Raoul was tucked under the covers of his bed, sucking his thumb.

"Dear god!" shrieked Philippe incredulously from his position on the ground.
"What did you do?"

Raoul grinned. "I'm inundated."

Philippe blinked. "You're what?"

Raoul frowned. "No, that's not right. I'm . . . ignorant!"

Philippe stood up. "Well, thank you for stating the obvious, Raouly dear."

"I told you I could be," Raoul replied smugly.

"Superb. . . now return your room back to it's original state."

Raoul burst into tears. "But Philippe-"

"Do as I say! End of conversation, pretty boy. If you don't follow my instructions,
I shall take away your dolls."

He was answered only by Raoul's sobs. The wardrobe began to wobble and
DaaƩ's voice could be heard from within mumbling something incoherent. Philippe
smacked his head and tore open the door. Christine was hung up like a coat inside.

"How the dickens. . .? Nevermind, I don't want to hear it. I forbid you two to ever
see each other again. And what's more, you are not allowed to go to the masked ball,
Raoul!"

"No!" wailed the forlorn viscount.

"And you, Miss Trollop, are never to pass upon these grounds again, or I'll have
you shot. Understand?"

Christine stared blankly.

"Did you hear me? I said you can never-"

"I've been called a trollop before by my adoring fans! So you really do like me,
Monsieur Raoul's brother! All along I thought you despised me, but then you go about
and compliment me! How gracious!" interrupted Christine with a giggle.

Dear lord, they are perfect for each other, thought Philippe.

When the DaaƩ girl left, Philippe watched like a hawk as Raoul picked his room
up and returned it to the house. Raoul's wails did not stop even after Philippe promised
him cookies and sorts of lovely sweets.

"Raoul dear, you cannot about doing things without my permission. It simply
won't work. And if you think you can get away with it, think again. Any of the servants
will tell me, because, as everyone knows, I have all the money and perks that go along
with it."

Raoul wiped his drippy nose on his sleeve.

"I just wanted to be inoculated though!" he cried pointedly.

"But you have been. For smallpox, though I wouldn't be too sad now to see your
face all pitted. At any rate when you are old enough, oh say, 50, you shall be able to live
on your own. I just don't think you are ready to take on the responsibility of an adult,
Raoul. Do you understand?"

"Do I still get to go the ball?" Raoul asked, everything going in one ear and out
the other.

"No."