Chapter 27

The house was larger then Elle had expected and quite charming. From the outside it appeared as welcoming shelter from the storm they had arrived during. It was located approximately an hours ride from Paris in a small town that seemed perfect for her father. Not many houses were close by and the ones that were seemed serene. She knew that her father wanted to get away from the noise of the city and live in a more peaceful environment. He was also running away from the memories that haunted his mind. The entire time that they had lived in the opera house his wife had been slowly dying. The memory of her made it difficult for him to enjoy the place after losing her. Monsieur D'aubigne yearned for seclusion, for quiet, and for reflection.

The house itself was a nice choice and he was pleased when he was finally able to see it with his own eyes. Outside the home was stone, behind the house was a lavish garden, there was servants' quarters separate from the house, and the interior of the place was decorated in rococo style. The servants were already there, to make it easier for him, and they had lived there with the previous owners, so they knew the house well. Elle saw as she entered that the house was already fully furnished, and tastefully too. Her father took no time in settling himself in his new study, which would take place of his office, while Elle wandered upstairs to choose a bedroom. There were three bedrooms, but it was not hard for her to choose one. She knew that she wanted the first one that she looked at the moment that she opened the door.

The room appeared as if it were made just for her. Across from the entrance was a balcony that opened up over the garden. To the far wall was a large four poster canopy bed with a small table by its side. On the opposite wall sat a mahogany dresser whose doors opened and on the inside were mirrors. By the dresser was a vanity, also with a mirror and a white marble counter. To the right of the door a wooden desk was pushed up against the wall. She entered the room, passed the desk, and turned a corner. The room expanded past the bed and desk, leaving the perfect amount of space for her piano. Although there was a larger and newer piano downstairs in the music room, Elle still wanted her father to send for her old one. To her it was more then a piano and she did not want to part with it.

Her bags were carried in by the carriage driver and she spent much of the day settling in to her new bedroom. She did like the house, in a way, but she knew that it was going to take a period of adjustment for her to get used to it. Elle thought back to how she was when she first moved into the opera house with her parents. Back then she had foolishly thought that change was good and exciting, now her thoughts were quite the opposite on the subject. At this point in her life she was sick of change. It seemed like her mother's death had started a sort of domino effect, a chain of events that would not have been spurred otherwise. Ever since that day nothing started to get any easier, forcing her to wonder what would happen next.

Deciding not to dwell she tried to enjoy her time there. It was easy for her to settle in, but now Elle had more free time then she knew what to do with. Every day, following their move in, she would enter the music room in an attempt to play. Her piano was not coming for some time, so she would have to get used to the one she had available. The problem was not with the piano though; the instrument was actually high quality and would have been perfect for her purpose. The real problem was coming from within Elle, not without. Whenever she entered the room she would open the curtains and approach the piano, taking a seat on the bench. Then, after opening the music sheets, she would begin to play. Lasting only several minutes, Elle would end up on the verge of tears, but would not cry. She had no tears left to shed.

Not only did she find it hard to play, especially certain pieces, but she refused to sing. Music, singing, it all reminded her of the reason she left the opera house- Erik. He was someone who Elle found herself thinking about constantly, involuntarily replaying the last time she saw him over and over again in her mind. That is your decision to make, he had told her. Perhaps she was nothing more than a student to him, but even so he did not have to be so cold. The part that bothered her even more was that she knew he was not always that way. She had seen him in different views throughout her time there and she never thought of him as a heartless man, but that had been the way he had spoken to her. Elle did not understand why he had acted that way. Frankly, she was tired of wondering. So she resolved to push him from her thoughts, an attempt that so far had gone unsuccessful.

Time was something that Elle no longer kept track of. She was aware of when each meal was set for, and that was about it. It was all that she needed to know. Days went by surprising fast once she stopped thinking about how to fill her time. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months as Elle found herself developing a routine. In the morning she would have breakfast with her father, take a turn in the garden, and then read quietly in her room. She would eat again with her father in the afternoon, ask him how his morning was and converse about mundane topics. Then Elle would take a trip to the music room as her father returned to his study. Not after long she would be back in her room reading and doing various things until dinner time. Although the two did not have much to talk about, Elle and her father spoke more frequently in their new home. Neither ever missed one of the meals nor was late, which pleased them both because then they would not have to eat alone.

Her life was definitely not as exciting as it had been at the opera house, but the environment was less stressful. She was kept up to date with the events at her old home through communication with Nadia. As she had promised the young woman sent her a letter every week. She wrote about the rehearsals, the new production, the new performers, and basically anything she thought that Elle would be interested in knowing. The directors decided that the new production would be Manon and held rehearsals in search for new talent. For some reason they seemed hesitant about casting Isabel as the lead again and were waiting to see if they could find someone else. Isabel did seem suited for the part of Manon despite their opinion, considering her character. Nadia had no doubt as to who would get the role of Chevalier Des Grieux though, the same man who had been playing the lead tenor since the opera house opened.

From what she read Elle wished she could be there to try and persuade the directors in the direction she thought was best. It was hard to find out what was going on without having the ability to do anything about it. Even if she were there she probably would not be able to do much anyway without bothering her father. As things were now they did not speak much about the opera house. Elle knew that a reason he wanted to leave was so that he would not have to worry about the management of the establishment. He seemed to believe that Tremaine and Bolster could handle it and he wanted to leave it at that. She could respect his stance on the situation considering how he changed after her mother's death. It was understandable that he did not want to think business, but at least he was less withdrawn- even if just by a little.

Her father told her that he thought the change would do him good, but she saw with her own eyes that as days passed in that secluded home that he was mostly the same as before. He spent the majority of his days in his study, which she soon realized was his favorite room in the house, and seldom was seen outside of it, except for meals. Sometimes she would look out her bedroom window and catch him sitting outside admiring the garden, which she noticed was becoming a habit of his. Perhaps it reminded him of their old home in the country. One thing did change though; he attended every meal without fail. The man whom had aided him in buying the house also had secured him two servants, a man and his wife. The wife did the cooking and cleaning, the husband handled the gardens and the maintenance of the home. It was an efficient system.

One morning, some time after breakfast, Elle strolled outside. She headed for the garden, as usual, and admired the rising sun illuminated the flowers below. Elle had not gotten far when she heard someone speak. This startled her for she thought that she was alone, but when she turned she saw that it was only her father. He was sitting in a chair over to the side. Since he was positioned to be in the shade she had not noticed him when she exited the house.

"It is a beautiful day," he stated. The garden was his second favorite place at the house. He smiled as his daughter turned around and found him over in the shade. After he was aware that he had her attention he continued, gesturing towards the chair beside him. "Come take a seat and join me."

"Yes it is," she replied, walking over to join him. She took a seat in the chair next to his and looked out over their land. One thing that Elle appreciated about her current living situation was the time that she was now able to spend with her father. Somehow she had a feeling that the time would not be very long.

"Elle, how are you?" he asked her, turning his head to watch her face as she reacted to his question. He was concerned about how she was dealing with the transition. If she was not happy living there with him then he wanted to know it so that he could send her back to the opera house, if that was what she desired. "How do you feel about the new house?"

Her eyes scanned over her father's face. He was not just being polite; by the expression on his face she could tell that he was genuinely serious and interested. The last thing Elle wanted to do was to worry him or make him think that she did not want to be there. The complete truth was something that she could not share at that point. So instead, she smiled reassuringly and responded in a sweet voice. "Fine papa, everything is fine."

He smiled back. "Good," he said, turning his eyes back over to the garden. He sensed that she was withholding something from him, but he pushed the unwelcome thought from his mind, telling himself that he was being apprehensive. There was something else that he wished to discuss with his daughter and he had been waiting for the right moment, although considering the topic there never would be a perfect time for the conversation. Monsieur D'aubigne realized that the present was as good a time as any. As all men are aware of as they age, he knew that he would not live forever. He could feel that his time was running out and he wanted his daughter to be prepared for when the time came. She was all that he had left so her safety and wellbeing was crucial to him. He only wished that there was someone around to take care of her for him.

"Is there something wrong, papa?" Elle asked, noticing that her father was staring into space. His eyes were not unintelligent though, she could tell that he was thinking about something. The look on his face concerned her and she wondered what was going through his mind at that very minute. She reached out to hold his hand, which was resting on the arm of the chair he was sitting in, and the cold shocked her. It seemed to travel up through her hand to the rest of her body, giving her the chills. Elle kept her hand on his nonetheless, waiting for her father to speak.

"No, my dear, nothing is wrong," he eventually mumbled, slowly snapping out of his abstraction. He was suddenly aware of her hand covering his, the warmth from her delicate hand gradually spreading up his arm. With his free hand he placed it over hers and his eyes gazed into the two pools of green before him. "But there is something that I want to tell you."

"What is it?" she asked, not sure if it was something that she really wanted to know. His eyes told her to listen, calming her with the paternal love that shined through them like two beacons of hope. She was no longer trembling.

"I won't be here forever Elle. When I am gone the opera house and this house will both be yours. What you do with them is up to you. I wish I had more to leave you, but at least I know that you will have a home." His hand slowly rose from its spot over hers and it moved towards her cheek. His fingers lightly traced the jaw line of his daughter's face.

"Don't say that father," Elle said, not wanting to think about what would happen then. If only she knew how appropriate his timing was.

The following morning Elle awoke from her slumber in a room full of the haze of morning. The white curtains covering the doors to her balcony were wide open, allowing the dull light to pour in through the glass. She emerged from her bed leisurely, stretching out her arms and stopped by her balcony to take a look out at the garden before getting ready for breakfast. Then she continued on, pulling a dress out of her wardrobe. After dressing Elle headed down the spiral stairs to the dining room, where she saw that breakfast was already on the plates. When she took her first step inside the room she immediately noticed that her father was not there. She thought to herself that she must have beaten him there, taking her seat at the table. She would wait for him to join her. Minutes went by, and she began to worry. Elle assured herself that he slept late, but decided to go check on him.

Pulling her seat out from underneath the table, she took slow steps to the bottom of the staircase and began to ascend. Elle thought that maybe she should wait longer, but her body kept climbing the stairs as if guided by some strange force. Finally she reached the hallway and walked straight. Her father's room was dead ahead, the last room at the end of the long stretch. She pictured herself opening the door, finding him asleep, and then quietly laughing at herself for her childish naïveté. The hallway seemed longer as she walked through it; it seemed that the more she walked the longer it extended. At last Elle found herself face to face with the oak door and her hand grabbed the metal doorknob, twisting it open. The door moved inward, little by little revealing the room within.

With nothing to stop her she took a step inside and her eyes glanced around the room. They landed on the bed to the right side. Keeping her eyes fixed on the same place Elle moved further in to get a better look. A couple steps from the bed, she stood with her feet planted to the floor. Instantly her hands shot up to cover her mouth in shock as her throat let out one sharp scream.

A/N: My power went out today so I was having trouble getting onto the internet, but here is the new chapter. Enjoy and please review.

Kiwi Anime- Thank you. Of course that's not the end, there is still more to come.

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