Later in the afternoon sat in her small bedroom, which was really a dressing room inside the Opera, brushing the curls out of her long red hair. "You did very well this morning, Amoret," a heavenly male voice said. It came from out of thin air.
Amoret started. "It's you, isn't it?" she called, turning toward her mirror to see if she could glimpse the speaker. But, of course, she could not see him.
Inside the wall, the Phantom smiled softly. "Of course, Amoret. Your Angel..." Amoret nodded, shifting her skirts so she could sit facing the mirror behind her better. "Now, sing for me..."
Amoret began singing her "trouser" rôle as Siebel, but soon the mysterious voice stopped her. "Non, non...the lead. Carlotta's part. That's the part you want, isn't it?" he said. Amoret's tilted gray-green eyes widened at the command, but she knew better than to disobey. She began Marguerite's aria, wondering why he wished her to sing Carlotta's part. The diva would never allow her to take her rôle.
The Phantom closed his eyes in bliss as she sang for him. This was what a diva should sound like, not Carlotta's tone-deaf squawking. When Amoret finished the aria, he nodded, though she could not see it. "You are finally ready, Amoret. Tonight you will sing Marguerite, and the world will love you for it."
"But what about Carlotta? She is to sing Marguerite..." Amoret protested. "Do not concern yourself with Carlotta!" the Phantom snapped, forgetting himself. His temper was always short concerning the so-called diva, whom he detested. "Be prepared to sing her rôle, Amoret. Soon all Paris will know of your gift."
***
Half an hour before the curtains were to go up on Faust, Firmin and André received word that Carlotta had taken ill and would be unable to sing. Firmin growled and jumped to his feet. "Where are you going, Firmin?" André asked.
"To talk to Carlotta. I'll do one of two things: either cure her or kill her!" Firmin replied. But Madame Giry, who had brought the news, shook her head.
"But, monsieur... Carlotta has already gone home," the box keeper said. Firmin cursed under his breath.
"Who is her understudy?" he finally asked, taking his seat.
"She refused to have one, monsieur. But perhaps..." she trailed off.
"Perhaps? Oui, perhaps what, Madame Giry?!" Firmin demanded.
"I think that Amoret LeRoux could sing the part. You heard her earlier today..." André nodded.
"Ah, oui...the chorus girl... She did sing very well this morning, Firmin." The other man nodded and waved his hand in agreement, his face still red with fury at Carlotta's sudden leave-of-absence.
Amoret sang the part of Marguerite as her "Angel" had promised. The audience loved her and gave her a standing ovation. Amoret was so happy that she did not see the masked figure in Box Five gazing raptly at her.
***
That night, as she sat in front of her mirror, Amoret hummed Marguerite's "Jewel Song" happily. She had sang with not just her voice, but her body and spirit. she was physically and mentally exhausted, but she was not tired. Instead, she felt ablaze.
"You were perfect, Amoret," the angelic voice said suddenly. Amoret leapt, startled, but smiled as she realized who had spoken.
Outside of Amoret's dressing room, Raoul heard the mysterious voice ~of course he did, he was eavesdropping~ and turned quickly. Who could the girl be talking to? He had not seen a man enter the room.
"Because of you and your instruction, Angel..." Amoret replied, her voice amused. She and the mysterious "Angel" laughed together, piercing Raoul's heart. Then silence descended for a long moment.
"You surpassed even my expectations, Amoret," the voice said. Raoul could imagine its owner, a tall, handsome man who sat with the young woman, no doubt gazing attentively at her, perhaps even holding her hand.
Amoret sighed deeply. "Oh, Angel...I gave you my soul tonight, and now I am dead!" she said to him, her fascinating gray-green eyes half-closed as she leaned back against her vanity, the exhaustion beginning to overcome her fervor.
"A beautiful thing, ma chere... No emperor ever received such a gift as this." A pause, and Raoul was certain that his rival was kissing Amoret. He silently cursed the girl, calling her names that would cause a sailor to blush with shame. Then... "But you are tired, Amoret. So I shall bid you good-night."
"Oui, I am tiring. Good-night, my Angel of Music..." Amoret said softly, her voice venerating. Raoul waited for the visitor to leave. but he did not. Amoret left for a moment for a forgotten score, and the young Vicomte looked in her dressing room. It was empty.
~Comments, suggestions, questions, complaints or cries for help? Read and Review or E-mail me @ ThePhantomoftheRing@hotmail.com~
~Le fantôme~
Amoret started. "It's you, isn't it?" she called, turning toward her mirror to see if she could glimpse the speaker. But, of course, she could not see him.
Inside the wall, the Phantom smiled softly. "Of course, Amoret. Your Angel..." Amoret nodded, shifting her skirts so she could sit facing the mirror behind her better. "Now, sing for me..."
Amoret began singing her "trouser" rôle as Siebel, but soon the mysterious voice stopped her. "Non, non...the lead. Carlotta's part. That's the part you want, isn't it?" he said. Amoret's tilted gray-green eyes widened at the command, but she knew better than to disobey. She began Marguerite's aria, wondering why he wished her to sing Carlotta's part. The diva would never allow her to take her rôle.
The Phantom closed his eyes in bliss as she sang for him. This was what a diva should sound like, not Carlotta's tone-deaf squawking. When Amoret finished the aria, he nodded, though she could not see it. "You are finally ready, Amoret. Tonight you will sing Marguerite, and the world will love you for it."
"But what about Carlotta? She is to sing Marguerite..." Amoret protested. "Do not concern yourself with Carlotta!" the Phantom snapped, forgetting himself. His temper was always short concerning the so-called diva, whom he detested. "Be prepared to sing her rôle, Amoret. Soon all Paris will know of your gift."
***
Half an hour before the curtains were to go up on Faust, Firmin and André received word that Carlotta had taken ill and would be unable to sing. Firmin growled and jumped to his feet. "Where are you going, Firmin?" André asked.
"To talk to Carlotta. I'll do one of two things: either cure her or kill her!" Firmin replied. But Madame Giry, who had brought the news, shook her head.
"But, monsieur... Carlotta has already gone home," the box keeper said. Firmin cursed under his breath.
"Who is her understudy?" he finally asked, taking his seat.
"She refused to have one, monsieur. But perhaps..." she trailed off.
"Perhaps? Oui, perhaps what, Madame Giry?!" Firmin demanded.
"I think that Amoret LeRoux could sing the part. You heard her earlier today..." André nodded.
"Ah, oui...the chorus girl... She did sing very well this morning, Firmin." The other man nodded and waved his hand in agreement, his face still red with fury at Carlotta's sudden leave-of-absence.
Amoret sang the part of Marguerite as her "Angel" had promised. The audience loved her and gave her a standing ovation. Amoret was so happy that she did not see the masked figure in Box Five gazing raptly at her.
***
That night, as she sat in front of her mirror, Amoret hummed Marguerite's "Jewel Song" happily. She had sang with not just her voice, but her body and spirit. she was physically and mentally exhausted, but she was not tired. Instead, she felt ablaze.
"You were perfect, Amoret," the angelic voice said suddenly. Amoret leapt, startled, but smiled as she realized who had spoken.
Outside of Amoret's dressing room, Raoul heard the mysterious voice ~of course he did, he was eavesdropping~ and turned quickly. Who could the girl be talking to? He had not seen a man enter the room.
"Because of you and your instruction, Angel..." Amoret replied, her voice amused. She and the mysterious "Angel" laughed together, piercing Raoul's heart. Then silence descended for a long moment.
"You surpassed even my expectations, Amoret," the voice said. Raoul could imagine its owner, a tall, handsome man who sat with the young woman, no doubt gazing attentively at her, perhaps even holding her hand.
Amoret sighed deeply. "Oh, Angel...I gave you my soul tonight, and now I am dead!" she said to him, her fascinating gray-green eyes half-closed as she leaned back against her vanity, the exhaustion beginning to overcome her fervor.
"A beautiful thing, ma chere... No emperor ever received such a gift as this." A pause, and Raoul was certain that his rival was kissing Amoret. He silently cursed the girl, calling her names that would cause a sailor to blush with shame. Then... "But you are tired, Amoret. So I shall bid you good-night."
"Oui, I am tiring. Good-night, my Angel of Music..." Amoret said softly, her voice venerating. Raoul waited for the visitor to leave. but he did not. Amoret left for a moment for a forgotten score, and the young Vicomte looked in her dressing room. It was empty.
~Comments, suggestions, questions, complaints or cries for help? Read and Review or E-mail me @ ThePhantomoftheRing@hotmail.com~
~Le fantôme~