DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two
Erik played well into the night. At first, it was as though he was possessed with the devil himself, but as the night droned on, the music slowly turned more mournful. It became heartbreaking. It was so heartbreaking that Cecilia felt his pain filter through his music and soak into her soul.
As Erik's spell began to dwindle, Cecilia could hear faint masculine sobs. Amazing that this man, after all I have heard about his evil nature, is in the sitting room weeping. Cecilia's heart sank in her chest. She knew his torment. She knew his pain, but she pondered whether she had the courage to venture into the sitting room to offer her sympathies. I may as well. What have I to lose? There is nothing for me anymore.
Still lacking the necessary fitting clothing and deciding to obey the "do not touch" orders of Erik, Cecilia ventured out into the sitting room in what was left of her now scantily-fashioned chemise. She folded her still bruised arms around her chest attempting to shelter what was left of her dignity.
As she emerged from her bedchamber, she could see his silhouette leaning over the ivory keys of the organ. His heavy but still perfectly groomed head lay in his trembling hands. His mask lay useless next to his pile of scratched music. His shirt was torn exposing his rather muscularly defined back. The candles lighting what was left of his inspiration were gradually melting and diminishing.
I must be insane.
She casually tiptoed toward his current position still listening to his muffled sobs. Taking in a deep breath and realizing that there was no turning back, she reached her arm out to offer him a comforting touch on his shoulder. As soon as her flesh glazed his, he spun around and grasped her wrist before she would take in her next breath. Once firmly ahold of her, his iridescent green eyes, which by now were red with crying and fatigue, pierced into her soul in dire seriousness.
"What do you want? To stare at the monster once more?" he growled.
"You are not a monster, Erik. I came to apologize to you," she replied sympathetically.
"Apologize for what? For imposing on my estate? For taking up residence in the most sacred room in my home? For using my most precious possessions?"
"Well, I do apologize for my intrusion. I assure you, that I will not impose on you or your home anymore. However, I came to apologize for mentioning the mystery woman. If it is any consolation, as far as I have observed, I understand what you are going through. I just thought you might like to know in case you wanted to talk to someone about it."
"How could you ever know what I am going through?" his voice began to elevate. "You are rich, beautiful, and the daughter of one of the wealthiest and most brilliant men in the whole of France. I am sure you have either an equally dignified husband or scores of equality dignified suitors. What would you know of my pain?"
"I did have one dignified suitor, but alas, I was not the one he wanted."
"What are you talking about?" Erik questioned, suddenly gathering an interest in her conversation.
"I guess if anyone is to swallow their foolish pride it should be me. His name is Fredrick Rosseau. He is the second cousin of the Vicompt de Changy, which as you may know, is one of the most dignified of families in Paris. To make a long story short, through a mutual agreement between our parents, we became betrothed to each other. Not wishing to rush into anything, we decided to get to know each other. As time pressed on, I fell in love with him, and I was almost certain he felt the same."
She tried to press back her tears. She felt as if her old would had been reopened all over again as she relived that horrible night. Now, struggling to continue talking, she gasped for air and began again.
"One night about a year or so ago, I had decided to surprise him with a visit in hopes he would agree to attend a rather boring dinner party with me. As my carriage pulled up to the door, I noticed a few candles glittering in his chamber. Concluding that he was indeed home, I walked up to the door and knocked. After a few moments in the snow without an answer, I gathered that the servants had left for the evening and he could not hear me, so I creaked open the door. Filled with excitement, I scurried up the stairs to his bedchamber, leaving all respectable ladylike behavior behind. I softly knocked and opened his door. To my horror, I found… Fredrick making love to none other than Suzanne Boulaire, the daughter of yet another dignified family, but who has far less social status than my own." Her tears were streaming down her face quicker than she could wipe them.
"Fredrick, upon seeing my face, sprang from the bed and ran after me as I hurried down the staircase and out the door to my carriage. All the while, he told me that it was not what I thought it was," her voice began to break. "He told me that he did not love me, and Suzanne had his heart. He apologized furiously that I had to find out this way, and…and…promised that he never meant to hurt me."
Cecilia turned from Erik and began to walk back to her room. Halfway towards the door to the bedchamber, she turned around and looked deep into Erik's eyes.
"My father died last week. My mother has been gone since before I can remember. Even my betrothed has abandoned me. So, Monsieur Phantom, look me in the eyes and tell me that I have no clue what you are feeling right now. True, I am sure your situation, whatever it may be, is a terrible one, but nonetheless, as I have poured my heart out to you tonight, I wonder if it is you who understand me."
She turned again and walked into her bedchamber leaving Erik in a half guilty half surprised state of mind.
Erik sat himself back down at the organ and slowly brought the lid to a close. There would be no more playing for him tonight. After pacing back and forth for a few moments, he decided that the best thing for him was to get out of his lair. Once changing his shirt, seizing his mask, and fashioning his cloak upon his body, he left into the remaining hours of the night.