A/N: Four more chapters and an epilogue to go!
Ch. 46 – A Prima Donna Is Born
The next day at breakfast, Bella took her usual seat at the table. It was a glorious winter day outside. Snow sparkled on the ground, and silvery frost dusted the tree tops. "Good morning, Papa, did you sleep well?" Bella inquired pleasantly, looking with interest at the fresh croissants set in front of her. Erik looked up from his paper, "Yes, quite well, my dear," he said absently.
He studied her for a moment, and then with a slight frown, he added, "You aren't going to wear that old thing, are you? Surely you have something more suitable." Bella did not take offence. She was accustomed to her father's interest in her clothing. He had always had an eye for beauty, and she knew anything less than perfect always troubled him. She answered him lightly as she buttered a croissant. "Why? Do you not like it? I have newer, of course, but as there was nothing important going on today I didn't think it mattered." Looking up at him curiously, she took a bite. "These are really exquisite. Try one Papa." She reached the basket out to him, but he held his hand out in a gesture of polite refusal. Shrugging, she replaced the basket on the table and reached for the jam.
Erik lifted his paper, pretending to read once again. From behind the paper she heard him mutter, "Apparently an audition for the open position of leading soprano at the Marseille Opera House is 'nothing important' as you say." Bella stopped in mid bite. "So I guess if you want to wear that old rag and stuff yourself with croissants first..." Bella's eyes grew wide. Wiping her hands hurriedly on her napkin, she jumped from the table, knocking her chair over in the process and ran to throw her arms around her father's neck. "Today, Papa? Leading soprano! Really? Do you think I can do it, Papa?" She was jumping up and down and holding onto him so tight he could scarcely breathe.
When at last she calmed enough to realize she was depriving him of oxygen, she loosened her grasp so that he could see the gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you, Papa," she said softly. Erik laughed at her enthusiasm. "In answer to your parade of questions: yes, today; yes, leading soprano; and yes I do without a doubt think you can do it." Clasping her hands he whispered, "You were born for this chance Annabel Christine de Chagny. It is your rightful place. You have only to reach out and take it." He smiled tenderly at her. She smiled back, "Then I shall."
She kissed him quickly on the cheek before dashing out of the dining room. She called back to him on her way up the stairs, "The blue one or the yellow, Papa?" He called back, "The blue one, darling, it brings out your eyes."
An hour later they were in the carriage on the way to Marseilles. After several more hours, they arrived at the opera house there. Though not as grand as the Opera Garnier in Paris, the Marseilles Opera had a distinct reputation for the quality of its opera productions, and with the addition of the Comte de Chagny as a patron, its future had never looked brighter. The opera manager, Monsieur Pierre du Prix had welcomed the Comte's patronage and had been sincerely delighted to grant the Comte's request that his daughter be given the opportunity to audition for the newly available role as lead soprano. Monsieur du Prix had seen the Comte's own work years before and had heard rumors of the remarkable talent of the de Chagny children. Numerous sources claimed that the youngest of the Comte's children, his only daughter, was the greatest jewel of them all – beautiful beyond measure, with the voice of an angel. When father and daughter exited the carriage, he was there to welcome them on the steps of the opera house. He knew at once that the reports of her beauty, at least, were in no way exaggerated.
"Comte de Chagny, it is a pleasure to see you again." He shook Erik's hand firmly with a sincere smile, to which Erik nodded politely. Turning his attention to the young woman before him, he took her hand in his and lightly kissed the back of it. "Vicomtesse, you honor this opera house with your presence," he said softly. He looked up at her and smiled warmly. His gentle brown eyes reminded Bella of her brothers', but his fair complexion and shock of blonde hair were entirely different than the dark men of her family. Bella returned his with a shy smile of her own and thought suddenly that he didn't look much older than she was.
Erik watched this exchange curiously. He was accustomed to the effect Bella invariably had on young men, and Monsieur du Prix had been entirely courteous and respectful. What astonished him was the fact that for the first time to his knowledge anyway, Bella seemed to be returning the young man's regard. Amused, he made a mental note to admit to Christine that she had been right. He need not worry about Bella finding love. It appeared love would find her easily enough on its own.
Erik coughed slightly to remind the two young people of the errand for which they had come and Monsieur du Prix quickly returned to business. "This way, mademoiselle. There is a dressing room where you can freshen up a bit before your audition. Your father tells me that he will be accompanying you." At this, Bella looked with alarm at her father, remembering the last time he had tried to play, but he gave her a look of reassurance and her face relaxed a bit. "Thank you kindly, Monsieur du Prix. If I might ask, what will I be singing?" At this, du Prix and her father exchanged a meaningful look and he replied gently, "I believe you will know it well, mademoiselle. After all, the new opera we will be performing is none other than the work of your father." Bella's eyes widened, "Voyage dans la Lumière - It is ready?" Her father smiled, "It is ready for its leading lady, mon ange. Did I not tell you that you were born for this role?" Bella threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. "I will make you so proud, Papa," she whispered, turning quickly toward the dressing room. "Of that I have no doubt, Little Bella," her father replied softly.
Monsieur du Prix guided Erik over to the piano and excused himself to look after one or two small details, while they awaited Bella's return. Erik took the time to acquaint himself with the fine grand piano in the orchestra pit. Sliding onto the bench, Erik ran his hand gently along its curves, caressing it as if it were a lost love. He rubbed his hands together, stretching his fingers with concern on his face. He had been able to calm Bella's doubts about his ability to play; now all he needed was to deal with his own. Closing his eyes, he said a simple silent prayer, "Lord, I ask that you lend me just one last time the hands you once blessed me with. If you allow me this privilege, for Bella's sake, I will readily relinquish their skill to you for eternity, for they have served me well." He opened his eyes, staring at the keys before him.
Hearing a soft sound from the stage above him, he saw Bella there watching him. The stage lights fell upon her willowy frame and cascading auburn curls. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed with excitement. This was where Bella was meant to be. He could see it on her face. She smiled to him and nodded, letting him know she was ready. In the rear of the theatre, Monsieur du Prix entered with several others, most likely other opera members here to listen. Du Prix closed the door silently, and then led them to a number of seats about a third of the way up from the stage.
When all were settled, he nodded to Erik, and Erik began the introduction for the aria that he and Bella had practiced so many times at home in the conservatory. To his relief, his hands as if by magic seemed as supple and limber as ever, and he became lost in the music as always. Bella too closed her eyes and smiled, grateful to hear her father's undeniable musical brilliance even just once more. When it came time for her entrance, she began as her father had taught her – gentle, precise, rounding each note to perfection. Then, she slowly began to build, gradually increasing the richness and smoothness of her voice as if slowly revealing something to her audience. When she reached the credenza, she allowed her voice free reign to soar to the gilded ceiling of the opera house, echoing back to hold her audience spell-bound for moments after her climactic finish.
She opened her eyes and looked down into the orchestra pit. Tears were visible in her father's eyes. Monsieur du Prix and the others sat staring, tears in their own eyes as well. The power of her father's haunting music combined with her celestial voice had moved them all beyond words. Her father smiled his gentle, brilliant smile and whispered, "Brava, Little Bella. You have claimed your place at last." She beamed down at him. Even if she never sang in an opera house again, all the years of practice had been worth it to see that look of pride and joy on her father's face.
For a moment, they saw only each other, but gradually they became aware of the enthusiastic applause from du Prix and the others. Du Prix walked as if in a trance toward the stage, his face filled with wonder. Where he had admired Bella's beauty before, he now stared at her as if she were a heavenly creature, something divine that he dared not touch. His voice filled with emotion, he said softly, "Vicomtesse, that was... breathtaking. I have never heard the equal of your voice in all of my life. If you want the position it is yours."
Bella could not contain a dazzling smile. "Thank you, Monsieur du Prix. Your sincere praise is an honor to me. But please, call me Bella. I do not wish to be known by my title here, just by my family name, Annabel de Chagny." Du Prix nodded. "And please, mademoiselle, call me Pierre. It will indeed be simpler to dispense with such formalities, as we will soon be working so closely with one another." He smiled shyly, and Bella returned his smile sincerely.
That night, Bella insisted that she bring her trunks in and began settling into her new home. As much as he had wanted this opportunity for her, Erik hadn't quite realized she would be leaving. Since Christine's death, Bella had been the one constant comfort and companion of his life. Saying goodbye that night would be very difficult for them both. But seeing the happiness and excitement shining in her eyes was enough for him to know that he had done the right thing.
Standing on the steps at the front of the opera house, she was a vision. Bella was no longer a little girl, he realized suddenly. Somewhere along the way, she had become a strong and determined young woman and now she was starting her own life. For her sake, he tried to stay strong, but somehow it felt almost like he was losing Christine all over again. He stood silently for a moment, unable to say goodbye to this heavenly creature who had been his saving grace for the past seventeen years, just as her mother had been for the previous twenty.
Sensing once more that he needed her comfort, Bella stepped down and wrapped her arms around her father's neck, holding him tightly. She knew what a sacrifice this was for him, and she was determined to make the most of it. Stepping back, she met his eyes. "I will write you Papa, every day. And you will come for the opening. You must promise." Erik nodded slowly, still unable to speak. Bella touched a hand to his still handsome face. "Thank you, Papa. Thank you for teaching me, and for loving me without fail all my life. I love you, Papa, so very much. Do not worry. All will be well here, I can feel it. I think Mother would be pleased with both of us, don't you think, Papa?"
At this, Erik found his voice, "Yes, Little Bella, I think your mother is very pleased with us tonight." Smiling gently, he kissed her forehead. "Goodbye, ma chère. Please don't forget to write, or your brothers will worry." There was a hint of mischief in his eyes now. Bella laughed, "Ah, Papa, you are fooling no one. It is you who will worry. My dear brothers will be glad to be free of my nagging and coddling, but I shall write all of you anyway." Erik stepped into the back seat of his motor car, closing the door and leaning to the window as it pulled away. Looking back he heard her call softly, "Goodbye, Papa. I love you." With tears in his eyes, Erik watched as his second angel faded from sight.