Rehearsals began the next day. I, of course was there to supervise.
I could see Christine's nerves were on end, and she kept looking around as
if I were going to jump out of the shadows and slice her throat open at any
second. This action never occurred to me, as I need not tell you. I never
use knives. Blood is unsanitary, and a Punjab lasso is much more fun.
Not that thoughts of death and killing were foremost in my mind that day. I'll admit that my thoughts were unpleasant, centering on seeing Christine squirm as she went over her lines. She was not enjoying her part, her lines, her music, or any of it. And when it came time to design costumes...well, a note to the costume mistress and she would not enjoy her costume either. With all this revenge, I should have been reveling in the complete misery I was throwing Christine into. But I was not happy. Something inside me wept at the sight of Christine's frown. She had not smiled for nearly a week when the Vicomte made his grand return to the opera.
"I was hoping my silence would convey to you a message, gentlemen," he said to the managers in their office. " I do not wish for this production to proceed."
"I'm afraid you simply don't understand, Sir," Andre replied from behind his desk. "It would be impossible for us not to perform this opera. We have never sold out this quickly, and we would never be able to face Paris again if we had to disappoint all those people."
"Quite impossible," Firmin agreed, looking quite bored in a large chair in the corner. "It would be quite a scandal if we had, albeit unknowingly, all this publicity and we laughed it off as though we had never intended to perform it in the first place."
"Then remove Christine from the leading role," the Vicomte said coldly. "Or I shall withdraw my patronage." The words did not have the effect he wished. This was evident on his face when Firmin replied.
"Though that would be an awful loss, I cannot say a void would be left with us very long. With all the excitement this 'Don Juan' is generating, people will be banging down this door with various monetary offerings. Plus," he added vindictively, "We would not have to worry about Miss Daae being distracted or going missing. Now whether you choose to patronize our establishment or not, we have much preparing to do, and would appreciate it if we could be left alone." The boy had nothing to say to this not so subtle dismissal, and left the room with a slam of the door. I felt sure he would continue to come to the Opera, if to do nothing but watch his precious Christine. My precious Christine. At the moment I controlled almost all of her, except her heart which I had never owned. I had always resented this fact, and tried as hard as I could to win it from her, never once succeeding. Even knowing I had the rest of her in my control did not lessen the pain of realizing I could never possess the one thing I truly wanted, and yearned for with a desire that burned nearly as hot as the very fires of the underworld itself. I had always had a passionate soul, but this was a passion that nearly crippled me. Christine did not belong to me, had never belonged to me, and would never belong to me, unless I changed my strategy. I would have to do a little revising of my opera. Little changes here and there would not upset the management. I practically had them eating out of the palm of my hand. I knew it, and they knew it, but there was nothing they could do about it, except following my commands.
Thoughts of conquering and defeating, and new musical scores writing themselves flew through my brain. My fingers were trembling at the thought of a new challenge. Before leaving, I looked back on the managers. They were doing nothing of interest, and I believe Firmin had fallen asleep. Either his 'work' was fictional or it was less important than he had made it sound. Either way, it was none of my concern, and I hurried to the House Beyond the Lake to complete my business. "Don Juan Triumphant" would be triumphant indeed.
Not that thoughts of death and killing were foremost in my mind that day. I'll admit that my thoughts were unpleasant, centering on seeing Christine squirm as she went over her lines. She was not enjoying her part, her lines, her music, or any of it. And when it came time to design costumes...well, a note to the costume mistress and she would not enjoy her costume either. With all this revenge, I should have been reveling in the complete misery I was throwing Christine into. But I was not happy. Something inside me wept at the sight of Christine's frown. She had not smiled for nearly a week when the Vicomte made his grand return to the opera.
"I was hoping my silence would convey to you a message, gentlemen," he said to the managers in their office. " I do not wish for this production to proceed."
"I'm afraid you simply don't understand, Sir," Andre replied from behind his desk. "It would be impossible for us not to perform this opera. We have never sold out this quickly, and we would never be able to face Paris again if we had to disappoint all those people."
"Quite impossible," Firmin agreed, looking quite bored in a large chair in the corner. "It would be quite a scandal if we had, albeit unknowingly, all this publicity and we laughed it off as though we had never intended to perform it in the first place."
"Then remove Christine from the leading role," the Vicomte said coldly. "Or I shall withdraw my patronage." The words did not have the effect he wished. This was evident on his face when Firmin replied.
"Though that would be an awful loss, I cannot say a void would be left with us very long. With all the excitement this 'Don Juan' is generating, people will be banging down this door with various monetary offerings. Plus," he added vindictively, "We would not have to worry about Miss Daae being distracted or going missing. Now whether you choose to patronize our establishment or not, we have much preparing to do, and would appreciate it if we could be left alone." The boy had nothing to say to this not so subtle dismissal, and left the room with a slam of the door. I felt sure he would continue to come to the Opera, if to do nothing but watch his precious Christine. My precious Christine. At the moment I controlled almost all of her, except her heart which I had never owned. I had always resented this fact, and tried as hard as I could to win it from her, never once succeeding. Even knowing I had the rest of her in my control did not lessen the pain of realizing I could never possess the one thing I truly wanted, and yearned for with a desire that burned nearly as hot as the very fires of the underworld itself. I had always had a passionate soul, but this was a passion that nearly crippled me. Christine did not belong to me, had never belonged to me, and would never belong to me, unless I changed my strategy. I would have to do a little revising of my opera. Little changes here and there would not upset the management. I practically had them eating out of the palm of my hand. I knew it, and they knew it, but there was nothing they could do about it, except following my commands.
Thoughts of conquering and defeating, and new musical scores writing themselves flew through my brain. My fingers were trembling at the thought of a new challenge. Before leaving, I looked back on the managers. They were doing nothing of interest, and I believe Firmin had fallen asleep. Either his 'work' was fictional or it was less important than he had made it sound. Either way, it was none of my concern, and I hurried to the House Beyond the Lake to complete my business. "Don Juan Triumphant" would be triumphant indeed.