I sent her a note. Sampling the handwriting from a letter of the patron, I wrote:

Meet me tonight during the Intermission–Atop Apollo's Lyre. I can save you.

--Raoul

If she dares to appear upon the roof tonight, I shall have all the incentive I need to kill them both.

That night, I settled behind the guise of Apollo's bronze wings and waited patiently in the dark. In my right hand, I held simple gold ring, one that I had chosen to represent our engagement for it was definitively the reverse design of the boy's gift. A simplicity that would reflect the complex, and in the other hand, a dagger infused with the venom to plunge into both of their hearts. It would be merciful of me to end their miserable "happily ever after" so quickly, if she knew I never had a "once upon a time"…

Then as I listened with anticipation pulsating in my heart, I began to hear footsteps upon the roof. With detached calm I peered above the wing and watched as she lead the Vicomte behind her with all the nervous tension of an escaped prisoner. They stopped short of a few feet away from my position, and he lifted her up into his arms and clung onto her small frame with what seemed to be all his might, crying her name in the fashion of a depraved child.

"Why, why did you return the ring to me? Does it mean you do not love me?"

"No Raoul," her voice replied, "I can't explain—please forgive me."

"Then you do love me?—Please Christine, I must know. I cannot go on like this, believing forever when you cannot last a day!"

"I care for you both, Raoul."

"But you love me, don't you?" He grasped her hands and kissed them fervently. "Tell me that you do…I will die if I do not know."

She quieted him with her welcoming lips, kissing his cheek and then his mouth, sending him into a whirlwind of hope—

I reached for dagger prepped in my left hand, clenching onto the handle so tightly that the pressure of my grip turned my knuckles a sheer white. So this is it—this is how you've chosen to repay me for all the blood I've shed for you, the music I've written for you, the songs I've sang to you—this is how you obey your Master at your free will! Without conscience and devoid of shame!

How civil of you, Christine—"for us both!" Well regrettably, my dear, there can only be one winner—and I shall, as Don Juan, reign triumphant over you both!

The ring betrayed my presence with it's gently clank as it fell to the side of my foot.

Her eyes flew open as she kissed him, but they did not cringe in terror. Rather, they seemed to smile in acknowledgement that she'd known me to be watching her there all along, And as she released him from her kiss, she held his head with her hands so that his face would be adverted from mine.

Parting her lips, she whispered in precious silence: I'm here for you.

I retired into the darkness, an opulent smile creeping up the corners of my mouth. She had been mine all along, and nothing, neither light nor stature could seduce her—as the boy clung onto her in such destroyed and noble pain, I basked in the flight of her tortured innocence.

How easy it would have been to just put an end to this all, rather than tease her with my manifestations, for I will always be looming above her, filled with a love that brinked on malevolence. How easy it would have been indeed, to snatch and protect her under my wing forever.

But that was all irreverent now. She was already mine and there was no need for melodrama.