Chapter Six

A Dinner of Questions

Erik

            I watched my dinner guest as she started to eat. Her dainty hands flew to one side to cut a slice of butter and then to the other to spread in onto her roll. She must have had experience with cooking before. I had placed before her setting several cups with a variety of beverages such water, hot tea, milk and some chardonnay from my personal collection. It came as no surprise to me when she did not sample the wine. She still didn't trust me and the poor creature was trying her damnest not to act as if she were afraid of me.

            But I could tell she was. She trembled in fear at my very presence, and even when I was away, she would still worry every moment I was gone. It would be a long struggle to gain her trust, I could tell. With Christine it had been different. She had heard my voice, her angel's voice and thought I could do no wrong. I wasn't until later; I revealed my true nature to her. After she had torn away my mask, exposing my horrid face and shattering her innocence forever. So imagined what my new guests myself have felt, to have "the demon of the cellars" as I was now affectionately called by the new employees who never knew me as the Phantom, drag her to his lair. I was keeping her locked in this dark prison that would never have the appearance of a normal home despite my best efforts.

            If she didn't trust me by now, she never would. And I couldn't blame her.

            And my pondering brought me to any other question in my mind. And that was what did she think of me. In particular what did she think the purpose of my mask was she had not asked yet, unlike Christine did. Did she think I was a dangerous criminal hiding my identity or that I truly was a demon disusing my hellish form in the shape of a man? Both of the statements did still have a ring of truth to them however. Even as she peeled her orange with delicate movements of her wrist, she watched me carefully as I sipped my wine.

            "So mademoiselle, you haven't said very much about yourself. Would you give me the pleasure of hearing about you and your past." I asked causally. I wasn't trying be sociable. I wanted the facts, that's all. She set down her orange and looked at me.

            "Well sir what would you like to know. I'm sure it could not be that interesting."

She was trying to sound polite but I could detect the tone of cold annoyance in her words.

            "Simple things are an odd way of amusing me, mademoiselle. Are you from Paris originally?"

            "Not exactly. We lived…my family lived in a château in a town about an hour away from Paris. My father was a merchant trader. We where once the typical aristocrat family you could say." She paused picked up her orange and took a small bite, swallowing it quickly. "But I hated it honestly."

            Interesting I thought, toying with the folds of the napkin in my lap. " I didn't like being judged by how proper or how much money your family made. My mother died giving birth to my twin brother and me. I was raised by governesses my entire life. My father was always working on his trade. My older brothers were already away at colleges and my sisters were too busy. With parties and suitors. I found it all so dull. Socializing was never amusing to me."

            I pushed at a roll on my plate, I didn't have the appetite and I found myself wrapped up in her words. "Never heard of a noble lady of France confessing such things. Why did this life of wealth and pleasure bore you?"

            She lowered her head and brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes. With her bright hair and white dressing gown she had finally changed into, she looked like she had stepped out of a Renaissance painting. "Well, I didn't like being stared at. It sounds ridiculous but I couldn't stand being at the crowed parties and all those eyes watching you. Men judging whether you would make a good wife. Ladies deciding if they should be jealous or not by the way you look. I wanted to ran away to my room and lock myself away from all those eyes. I don't believe anyone should have to suffer judgment of society like that, whether they are a king or a beggar. It's just not right!" She pressed her palms against the table, her breath coming in short gasps from the energy she used in her speech. I could see tears of anger about to pour from her eyes, but she held them back.

            And to my surprise I discovered I was holding my own tears back as well. Her words had struck a chord with me. I knew exactly how she felt, but not only that she had opened to door to a new way of looking at the same pain I had suffered my entire life. I was always judged because of my face, I was different when I was expected to be normal, yet she was judged to even higher standards as others expected her to be perfect when she just wanted to be like everybody else. We both wanted to be that. I could tell by the way she had acted, how she had talked, that she was a free spirit desperate to break free of the oppression that shackled her, as was I. Trying not to let me voice shake, I whispered to her softly. "Mademoiselle I know exactly how you feel. You are right, judgment is a trait humanity abuses frequently."

            "Yes, I had been reading some of  'Utopia', and if we could all learn to live in a society as Moore described, none of us would ever have to worry about that." She said, trying to smile.

            I nodded my head. "I take it you enjoy books Mademoiselle?" 

            Her eyelashes flattered and she blushed as if I had spoken the name of her lover. "Sir, indeed I do. You could say I'm addicted to the written word. I loved to read, I could spend hours at a time in my room surround by books. I read most of the ones in my family's library and my father pampered me with more. When the aspects of being a noble woman bore down on me, I'd just turn to my books, and I loved to write, and draw, and play music." Her voice had taken a light airy tone as she explained her true passion. "But I don't have so much time for that now."

            "And why is that?"

            "My family fell on some hard times about a year ago. My father's ships were attacked by pirates who lost them and all the goods they carried in a storm. Many of his backers pulled out of his trade company and he lost the business. We had to leave the château and moved to Paris. My father and my twin brother have been working to pay the rent, and I've had the job of taking care of the house and my sisters." Again her mood turned somber. "  I hope they are all right…I" she choked on her words and I saw the tears start to flow freely down her face.  God, if she would let me wipe the tears from her eyes with my bare hands, to let me try and erase the sorrow in this child's life and bring her comfort "I'm sorry, please excuse me." She whispered and left the table fleeing towards her room. I ran on impulse to stop her, catching her arms before she could reach the door. "No stop. Sir I don't want you to see me like this. I don't want anyone…" I spun her around into my arms, making her face me.

            "Mademoiselle, I will not judge you. I do not care if you cry. I will think no least of you." And with that she buried her head into my chest and sobbed uncontrollably. I held her tight in my arms feeling her body heave. Stroking her hair, the voices of reason and want bickered in my brain. Part of me wanted to keep her with me. I could offer her a new life, free from obligations. We could have our music, art and our stories, to share like kindred spirits. We could even leave Paris; leave France forever, following our dreams like the wind. While the other half of my screamed to stop this foolishness. Let the girl go so she could return to her family and her old life, harsh as it may be. I was destined forever to remain her in the darkness. I could never have a lover or even a friend. Damn it all, it wasn't fair! I let my fingers massage her neck gently, but I wanted to do more. I wanted to kiss away here tears but I feared she would abhor me if I dared show any sign of affection. She started to loosen my grip on her and pulled away. I withdrew a small handkerchief from my suit pocket and held it under her eye. "For you." I said softly. She noticed my gesture, reached up one of her hands to rest over my own and grasped the handkerchief. The she let me guide our hands to wipe away her salty tears. I was amazed. She was letting me touch her face with my bare hand willingly. The finest satin of a queen's robe could not compare to the softness of her healthy cheek as the back of my knuckled brushed against it. I was speechless.

            She took a step back away from me and gave a small smile. "Thank you" she whispered her eyes still red-rimmed.

            "You are very welcome, mademoiselle." I managed to reply. Thank me? What had I done to deserve her thanks? I was keeping her prisoner with me, I frightened her, and I even made her cry. The most boldest of my actions, I had touched her in a manner for such a monster as I was that was inappropriate.

            She glanced around the room and sighed. "I'm sorry for making such a spectacle of myself. I think I should retire for the rest of the evening.

            "I believe I would concur with that decision." I moved back tot the table to fetch her plate of food. "You make take a book if you like." I suggested. She moved to the shelves near the mantel and selected another title. Then she stood gazing at the fireplace until I came beside her. I noticed to the book she had chosen. "European Folklore and Fairy Tales". I forgot I had that in my collection. She took the plate of food from my hand and started to walk towards the bedroom. I feared that she would leave me without a word, but she stopped and then face me.

            "Thank you again sir." She whispered. "You have done so much here to make me comfortable, but could I be so bold as to ask for two more favors from you?"

            I bowed my head "What do you wish?"

            "Sir, what is your name?"

            I was uncomfortable for a moment before I decided there was no real harm to her request. "My name is Erik."

            "Erik" she breathed letting my name roll off her lips. "May I call you that?"

            "Of course, and what was your second favor?"

            "Calling me mademoiselle, sound so dreadfully formal. Please call me Belle if you would."

            "As you wish."

            "Well then goodnight Erik." She whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Then she shut the door, but I did not hear the lock close.

            "Goodnight, Belle." I whispered. I noticed my hand was shaking and I tried to steady it. Why was I acting this way? I shouldn't be caring so much about her; it would only lead to destruction, either her's or mine. I moved to walk away until I heard her sobbing again. I pressed my ear to the door and I felt as if I could actually see her, lying on the bed, shaking with tears and oppression.

            "Oh Papa…." She moaned. "I miss you…so much." I felt like my heart was going to be torn to piece. I had cause so much pain for her. So much. I fell to my knees, leaning my head against the door, and sat for a long time very still.

            Break free, my angel and let me break with you. Still clasping the handkerchief in my hand, I brought it to my face smelling her scent as if I could capture her very essences in it. Nothing. It was hopeless now, I should just give up. I gave a long mournfully sigh, praying to God she did not hear me.

            "Fairy tales."

A/N: I'm so depressing. Goodness well I wasn't also in the best of my moods when I wrote this. So sorry. But things will get better before they get worst, I promise. Belle gets to hear Erik sing in the next chapter so hang on to your seats sports fans. 

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