CHAPTER 1—WANDERING CHILD

Christine Daae hardly remembered the last few weeks. So much had happened… Her home had burned to the ground. The Phantom of the Opera had disappeared, eluding the best efforts of the Parisian police department's best efforts to find him. She hadn't spoken to anyone from the opera house, so she was not entirely sure of all the details of that night. Raoul had tried to shelter her, as best he could, from both the facts and the rumors that were flying about.

As such, she found herself in a mansion outside Paris, staying with Raoul and his family. As comfortable as the house was, she found herself somewhat disheartened. The old Comte and his wife were not unkind to her, but there had been a hint of something critical in the eyes of Raoul's mother when he had announced to them both his engagement to Christine.

It seemed that there was no one in the expansive house she could truly talk to. Raoul was often busy with his father, trying to clean up the mess of the opera. Raoul's brother, Phillipe, visited occasionally to visit his beautiful, if bitter, wife. Raoul's mother was often to be found in the parlor, working on needlepoint, which was of no interest to Christine. As such, she often found herself wandering the expansive grounds, lost in her own thoughts, longing for someone to be her confidant.

She also found herself with a new wardrobe. Never in her life had Christine had so many clothes. Evening gowns, riding dresses, beautiful and ornate nightdresses, afternoon dresses. Everything else a woman of society would wear and nothing like anything she had owned in the opera house. She had spent an entire afternoon trying on dresses, feeling like a child playing dress-up.

Today, she wore a simple blue dress as she wandered the grounds alone. Christine had never wandered out quite this far before, and soon found herself staring at a house she had never seen before.

While the de Chagney home was enormous, it was nothing to this place. It was very nearly a castle, enormous and built of stone, it seemed. Gardeners scuttled through the enormous front garden, and an ornate black carriage stood in the front drive.

Christine looked around frantically, realizing that she must have wandered onto the neighbor's property. She had begun to turn back toward the de Chagney home when she heard the pounding of hooves. She stopped and turned again to the enormous house only to find herself face to face with a black horse. She jumped back considerably, then heard a light chuckle of laughter from somewhere above her.

"He's big, but he won't hurt you," said a female voice from atop the horse. "You wouldn't hurt a fly, would you Ceaser?"

Christine peered up the woman. "Ceaser?" she asked.

The woman slid down to the ground. "The horse. He's my brother's—I'm just taking care of him while he's away."

As she reached up to stroke the horse, Christine took in her appearance. She was wearing an elaborate green riding dress that made beautifully complimented lovely eyes. Her hair was ash brown and tied back in a tight French braid. When she spoke, her voice carried authority. She was older than Christine, but by how much, Christine couldn't tell.

Looking back at Christine, the woman gave Christine an almost amused-looking once-over. "You look as if you've been for a walk."

Christine looked down at herself. Her dress was indeed covered in burs and a few smudges of dirt. Reaching up, she felt a leaf in her hair.

The woman laughed again. She had a wonderful laugh. "You also look as though you could use tea." She held out a hand. "Eva Dusek."

Christine took the extended hand. The woman had a good, firm handshake, and Christine found herself liking this woman. "Christine Daae. I live over at the de Chagney estate—I'm intended to the Viscomte de Chagney."

Christine though she saw a flicker of recognition in those green eyes, but it was gone so quickly that she decided she must have imagined it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Christine," Eva said, and she smiled. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you in for tea." She gestured for a boy from the stables. "Take Ceaser in for me, please," she said. "Then you can go home for the day."

The boy grinned and took the reigns from Eva. "Yes, viscountess."

Eva smiled and turned back to Christine. "Let's get inside. It looks like it could rain."

Christine looked up and realized that it did indeed look as if it could rain. "I should get back, then," she said.

"It'll start before you get back," said Eva, raising an eyebrow at Christine. "Come in for tea, then I'll have my man take you home."

Christine cast another look upward before she nodded. "Thank you," she said.

Eva led the way up the drive to the front door of the enormous house and opened the door. "Guests first," she said, sweeping out an arm for Christine.

Christine's first impression was that she had indeed entered a palace. Elaborate crimson tapestries hung around the hall, and a sweeping staircase led up to a balcony. A little boy came hurtling down the stairs toward them. He looked to be about four or five years old. "Mother!" he screamed, happily.

Eva smiled widely and squatted down to sweep the little boy into her arms. Scooping him up, she stood up again. "This little bundle of energy is my son, Jean." She smiled at the boy. "Jean, this is Christine."

The little boy became instantly shy and hid his face in his mother's neck. At this Eva laughed. "Aren't you going to say hello to our guest, Jean?"

Jean half peaked out at Christine and, very quietly, said, "Hello." Then he instantly hid again.

Eva shook her head with a small smile, and set the boy back down. "Go back to your studies, Jean."

Scampering back up the stairs, Jean peaked back at Christine and Eva once before disappearing back to where he came from.

Christine followed Eva off to the parlor, where a maid had already set up for afternoon tea. Eva looked around at her. "Corinne, could you bring another cup for our guest, please?"

The maid was back in a flash, and then she excused herself from the parlor with a small curtsey. Eva started pouring tea.

"It's so nice to see a fresh face!" she said, happily. "It's just Jean and I here. The Chagneys are our only neighbors, and I honestly can't say I'm too crazy about them. Don't get me wrong," she said quickly. "They're a pleasant family, but that's all. They're merely pleasant. Nothing more, nothing less."

Christine nodded in agreement. "It's nice to know I'm not the only one to have noticed." She took a sip of tea and looked up at Eva again. "I know I'm just a stranger and it's more than likely none of my business, but where is Jean's father?"

Eva's smile didn't leave her face, but became suddenly wistful and sad. "He died," she said, quietly. "We were engaged to be married, and he was killed in a freak accident. His horse threw him and he hit his head."

"I'm sorry," said Christine, quietly.

Eva shook her head. "It wasn't your fault," she said. "I only wish he could have seen Jean."

A sudden confusion came over Christine. "Engaged," she said slowly. "You… you weren't married?"

Christine half expected Eva to not answer, but look at her coldly. To her surprise, however, Eva's eyes suddenly filled with mischief. "I've never been married a day in my life."

A bubble of laughter arose in Christine's throat and escaped from her mouth before she could stop it. Eva began laughing, also, and the two of them nearly rolled in their chairs from laughter for several minutes. There were tears of mirth on Christine's face when her laughter finally subsided.

She smiled widely at Eva. "That felt so good," she said. "I haven't laughed since…"

She trailed off, remembering simpler days, when the Phantom had been her mysterious friend, the Angel of Music, before all hell had broken loose. The Angel. Her Angel…

She was jolted from her memories by Eva clearing her throat. Christine quickly smiled at Eva and said, "Well. It's been a long time since I could sit down and have a laugh. I'm just sorry it was at yours and Jean's expense."

Eva shook her head. "It's alright," she said. "My… ah, shall we say, inability to remain unadulterated, always drove my parents crazy. God bless their souls," she added as an afterthought.

"They're dead?"

"They died several years back," Eva said. "Right about now, they're probably nice and warm, roasting in hell."

"Hell?" Christine looked at Eva in shock. "Why would you say such a thing?"

Eva looked out the window at the rain that had begun to fall. "When I was a little girl, I always wondered why I was a viscountess instead of a countess. My parents would never tell me. When I was nine my father died, and my mother clammed up even more then whenever I would ask about my title. Then, about three years ago, I was sent for. She was dying, and wanted to tell me something." Eva stopped for a moment to draw a shaky breath. "I have a brother. He's older than me by a fair few years, and my mother and father abandoned him when he was a baby. He was—well, he wasn't what they'd expected from their perfect boy. I just found him two months ago. Jean loves him, and he adores Jean." She set down her empty tea cup and looked away from the window to Christine. "More tea?"

Christine shook her head. "I should go," she said. "They might start to worry about me."

Eva's sculpted eyebrows raised. "Might?"

Christine smiled sadly. "They might, yes." She sighed heavily.

Eva stood up. "I'll have Corinne call Damien with the carriage, and he'll take you home." She disappeared for several minutes, then returned, accompanied again by Jean, who was once again riding on her hip. "He's ready for you, Christine."

Standing up, Christine placed her cup on the table and walked out past Eva and Jean to the front hall. As she was heading out the door, she felt Eva rest a hand on her arm and she turned to look at the older woman.

"You're welcome to come back any time, Christine," she said gently. "You know, if you want to sit and talk about… well, anything."

Christine smiled again. "Thank you, Eva," she said. "I just may do that."

She walked out the door and through the rain to where the carriage man, Damien, stood waiting to open the door for her. He helped her in, then shut the door. Christine looked out the carriage window toward the door where Eva still stood holding Jean, who had looked up from his mother's shoulder to wave goodbye with her. Christine waved back, and then the carriage began to move, taking her back to the Chagney estate.

Eva Dusek leaned against the doorway of her son's bedroom. His sleeping visage just peaked over the edge of the blue comforter, and Eva smiled as he breathed in and out slowly. Soft footsteps behind her announced the presence of Corinne.

"Will you be needing anything before I retire, viscountess?" she asked.

Tearing her eyes from her son, Eva looked at her maid. "No," she said. "Not tonight. I will need you to fetch luggage for me in the next day or so, though. I'm going to need to start packing in the morning. I'd like to leave sometime in the next two weeks."

"Where are we going?" asked Corinne, confused.

Eva looked back at her son, then out toward the Chagney estate. "If memory serves me correctly, Vienna is lovely this time of year."

a/n Has anyone else ever tried to type "Christine" over and over and typed "Christing" instead? Maybe it's just me. Oh, well. Leave me reviews—they make me horny.