Here we go again: Dese characters, dey be not mine. Maybe Monique. Maybe. Don't sure me.
Thank you for the reviews, guys. To respond, yes, I have read Kay's work and this fic relies on it quite a bit.
Christine did not sleep that night. Why would Nadir, Erik's old friend and, in a sense, watchdog, want to talk to her? Why now, and not when she might have saved Erik? If only she had known!
Dawn came and Monique was shocked to find Christine up, dressed, and waiting for breakfast.
"Oh, Monique, there's so much to do!" she gushed. "I've got to get to the tailor, the shops- can you believe I have no hat to wear on my honeymoon?"
"Mme. Daae, of course! Shall I accompany you?"
"No, Monique, dearest, a lady at times needs privacy to build up her trousseau! I plan to go to Rouen."
"Rouen? That's house away! In Heaven's name, why?"
"Why Monique, surely you've heard of Madeline-," she thought fast- "Giry (damn!)? She's very exclusive, only in Rouen, but such lovely clothes! You just go in, get measured, and in hours she has these miracles ready to box up and take home!"
Monique, of course, had barely heard of Rouen, never mind any Madeline Giry, but hated to appear uncultured and praised the fictitious Madeline. Christine got on the train to Rouen with instructions to Monique to take care of Sasha and not to look for her until the morrow.
Once the train left Paris, Christine made sure the porter was gone and pulled the mask from her cloak. She traced its outline with her fingers, as softly as she had traced his face that last night.
He stood, paralyzed by a thousand emotions coursing through his veins as she drew back from that first kiss. Her dark blue eyes looked at him in a way he had never thought a woman would see him- not in fear, not in pity or revulsion or interest as one might view a scientific experiment, but in love. She reached up slowly to caress his unmasked face, but before she could touch him a second time, his hand was on her wrist and he was steering her away from him, away from the shattered mirror and torn wedding veil and towards the two-way mirror where Nadir and Raul waited.
The mask comforted her in a way she couldn't explain. Erick may have been dead, but she had something of him again. At the moment, she was sure she would have never left Erik if she'd had a crystal ball back then. Raul was no longer the image Christine had thought she loved, but a vain, artless man, kind but entirely too reliant on his money.
Suddenly Christine saw the year's events in a new light. Raul may have loved her, but his manipulation was as great as Erik's had been. Erik's death was no accident, it had been brought on by her and Raul.
Both men had allowed their emotions to lead to death, she realized. "Raul is kind and far more polished, but Erik loved me so fully. And yes, I loved- love! – him. I love Raul, too, but it is a grateful sort of love, and for what? I am in love with Erik, and it's too late! But I cannot, simply cannot, marry Raul. I'd rather be alone forever than constrained by a lifestyle I can't stand. But how can I possibly leave a week before the ceremony?"