This took a bit longer to think up. If it has no decadent flow, my apologies in advance are in order. Enjoy, hopefully. Oh, how I hate to do this!
P.T.O
This will be the last authors noteI write. I hear they are irksome, so I discontinuecommunication with readers.
Ch.9: In the Rafters
Christine tried her hardest to keep her composure. It was proving a difficult feat. Although this should have been the happiest day of her short life, a little pang of guilt always hovered near her head like a pesky mosquito. Swallowing her worries, the girl began her line.
" With this ring, I thee wed, Vicomte Raoul de Chagney, and take you to be my lawfully wedded husband" She slid the gold ring on his finger gently. Raoul looked about ready to burst with joy. The ancient preacher nodded in consent, and then boomed, " You have made your promise before the eyes of God. With the power invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. Monsieur, you may kiss the bride."
The gathering stood up and cheered when their lips met. As the newlyweds trotted down the isle, a figure sitting silently in the rafters clapped inaudibly. Christine looked back, her sparkling eyes scanning the ornate ceiling. A dark shape emerged into the light, and then nodded his reluctant congratulations before shrinking back into the darkness. She almost waved, but thought the gesture to be far too blatant, so she nodded in return before taking Raoul's hand and running out into the arms of loving relatives and friends.
Meg emerged from the multitude, her smile almost too big for her small face. " Christine! Oh, congratulations! How I will miss having you around the opera house!" Christine embraced her friend, assuring her that she would be around for companionship. As she greeted other comrades, she looked back into the empty church and whispered, " Goodbye, Erik."
As he watched the young pair sashay down the isle to the rest of their lives, Delight began to coo impatiently under the blankets in which she was swaddled. Erik hushed her absentmindedly, wiping stubborn tears from his eyes. There's no reason to be jealous, he mused bitterly, I've got Delli here. The pair of them can hang for all I care. Without another glance at the crowd, he disappeared with a swish of his cloak, only noticed by the piteous young Giry, who shook her head.
When he returned to his home, Erik was in a right state. He put the baby in her crib and plopped himself on his organ bench, preparing to drown himself in the measures of fantasy. Delight watched curiously with her big green eyes, blowing raspberries in agreement. The man lost track of time until a hand rested on his shoulder. It was Madame Giry. She folded her arms in irritation.
" You can't do this," She said acidly, surprising Erik. " You can't pine for something that was never yours. It's their life now, which has no place for you. Can't you just accept that?" She had not come here to pity him, but to give him a lecture like some troublesome adolescent
He turned away, plucking Delight out of her cradle. The now three month-old continued to doze, unaware of any changes in environment. " You have a baby to raise. Do you want her to grow up with a moping father?" Cecile continued, flipping her braid indignantly. This struck a nerve. " I do not mope! How dare you come here and suggest such a thing?" The baby's eyes popped open at the rising tone of Erik's voice, narrowing in frustration.
" If your wish was to come here and preach to me about what I can and can't do, you are not welcome. Go." He waved her off as he awkwardly tried to comfort the wailing child. Cecile stalked off without another word, discreetly stealing an inkwell on her way out.
When the sound of her footsteps had died away and Delli was fast asleep once more, Erik sank to his knees, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. This visit was most upsetting because deep down, he knew she was right.