Erik quickly shook the thought of Christine out of his head. He had new things to focus on, and he could not be distracted with such frivolous thoughts of love or loss. Yet it amazed him how one small girl could bring up such painful memories.
"Very well," he said in a sullen tone. "You may eat to your heart's desire, but after dinner, we begin working." Veronique was quick to begin eating. It amused Erik how much she looked like a chipmunk storing nuts in its cheeks to store for the winter. He could see the delight in her face when she had her first sip of wine. He walked away and sat at his piano. His fingers flew over the keys, and melancholic chords filled the lair. Veronique even stopped eating for a few moments to let the music sink in to her soul. She finished her supper in sadness, wondering what it could have been that made him so depressed so quickly.
"Monsieur Erik, I have finished. I am prepared to begin," she confidently said. He slowly looked up from the keys to see her standing there with awe written in her eyes. He knew that she was taking a liking to his music, which made it all the more perfect for him to work with her. She gently reached across his chest and struck the key of C, matching the note with perfect intonation. Erik was shocked. Her voice was smooth and angelic, and it had such a mature vibrato. Blinking and shaking his head, he played a few scales and Veronique sang along. Her voice soared through the lair, so much that Erik worried a passerby would hear the music from the ruin of the opera house and stop to see what it was.
Erik knew her voice sounded too mature to be coming from a body of only 13 years, so he needed verification. "Exactly how old are you, Miss de Launce?"
Veronique was almost stunned by this question. She knew it meant one of two things, and she prayed that it meant nothing. "I am 17 years old, Monsieur. May I ask why you asked?"
"You seem rather... erm... delicate for your age, Miss. I was thinking to myself that a beautiful voice such as yours seemed impossible from a girl much younger than yourself." He luckily recovered from uttering something that would embarass either himself or Veronique. "Now, Veronique, if you know any opera songs, would you please sing it? I am sure I know the accompaniment, and I will play along with you once you have begun."
She nodded, racking her brain for the words to the only song with a melody she knew. The words came to her in an instant, and she began. "Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you'll try..." Erik waved his hand and she knew to stop. His face was covered by his hand, and his shoulders shook with sobs. He could not take it anymore.
He had to send Veronique away, to prevent further memories of Christine...