Chapter Eight
The day after the ball, breakfast was served an hour later than usual, so they had a chance to wake up properly. The festivities had continued late into the night but Christine had not had a chance to return to the music room all night. When Christine arrived, Raoul and Charles were there discussing the success of the ball whilst Philippe and Sorelli tried not to yawn.
"Is Monsieur Destler not joining us?" Christine asked, glancing at the empty seat beside her.
"I'm not sure. He didn't really join in last night, but perhaps he's not hungry." Philippe replied.
As soon as she had eaten, Christine went to the music room. But it was empty. She frowned and closed the door again, leaning against it.
What had happened last night? She wondered. And, more importantly, why did she want it to happen again?
Erik was, in fact, sat in a corner of the garden, trying and failing to understand the situation.
It had been a dance. Nothing more. It couldn't be anything more. It just couldn't be. She was a princess, royalty, far above his status.
But that wasn't what was worrying him most. The fact was that Christine Daae was supposed to marry Raoul. Raoul, his friend, his companion.
There was only one thing to be done, Erik decided and stood, making his way to the castle. He had to find Raoul.
Christine and Raoul were sat in the library, talking amiably about the ball and the many costumes they had seen as well as comparing how many dances they had had.
"I'm rather glad that I'm staying longer." Raoul said, lounging in the chair by the window. Christine, who was sat on the wide windowsill, smiled at him.
"I am too. Really, a month is such a short amount of time."
"I know. It just seemed to fly past."
"A fortnight isn't that much longer, but it's better than nothing." She commented, watching as Ayesha slunk into the room and settled herself on Christine's lap. She stroked the cat's dark fur and Raoul smiled.
After a moment, he said in a would-be casual voice,
"I suppose… that we should discuss what is to be done." Christine looked at him, her hand still on Ayesha's back.
"Yes. I suppose we should." She said softly. Raoul sat forward on the edge of his chair and met her eyes.
"Christine… I don't know how you feel about marriage. This is all so sudden and, whilst not completely unexpected, I certainly didn't see myself in this position."
Christine swung her legs off the seat, setting Ayesha on the floor. She looked across at Raoul. His handsome face was set earnestly, almost imploring.
And she didn't know what to do. He was watching her almost hopefully, waiting for her to speak. And all she could see was a masked face by moonlight.
No! No, what was she doing? That was… that was Monsieur Destler. That was…
That was not Raoul.
Raoul was watching her closely. After a moment he opened his mouth to speak but the library door opened and Erik Destler appeared in the doorway. Christine and Raoul both stood up but Erik paused in the doorway, his eyes setting on Christine. She met his gaze and then averted her eyes. Erik felt his heart sink and hated himself for it.
"Is everything alright, Erik?" Raoul asked concernedly. "Nobody's seen you all morning."
"I'm fine. I must speak with you immediately." He glanced at Christine. "Preferably alone."
"I'll just…" Christine mumbled, picking up Ayesha and walking to the door. Her scent drifted to Erik and filled his senses, clouding his mind.
Oh dear God… he inwardly groaned.
"What's wrong?" Raoul asked as Erik closed the door.
"I wish to return to Hirlos." Erik said quietly. Raoul blinked.
"What? Why?"
"I have my reasons, Raoul. I wish to return as soon as is possible." Erik said. Raoul frowned.
"I don't understand, Erik. I thought you liked it here."
I do, Erik thought wryly. That was the problem. He didn't reply to Raoul's comment. The prince sighed.
"I suppose I can't really stop you, but I wish you'd stay. If not just for me, then for Christine as well."
Erik jerked but Raoul didn't appear to notice. "She loves her singing lessons, Erik. You should have seen how upset she was that you weren't here for her lesson this morning. We'll only be here for another two weeks, it's not that long."
"I-"
"Just consider it. It's not for long. And I do want you here, Erik." Raoul said quietly.
Erik closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again.
"…Very well. I shall stay." Raoul grinned.
"Wonderful! Thank you, I do appreciate it Erik."
"I'm sure. Excuse me." He turned and walked brusquely from the room.
Raoul frowned after him. That had been odd. But then again, Erik was an odd man in general.
Christine sat at the dressing table of her room, a frown on her face as she stared at the white rose in the delicate silver vase. There was a knock at the door.
"Come in." Christine called quietly. Meg entered and frowned.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, I… Meg, I need to ask you something."
"Of course, what is it?" Meg said, sitting beside her. Christine sighed.
"Meg… I think I'm… I'm in love. Or at the very least, falling in love." Seeing the delighted look on her friend's face, "Don't say anything, alright? Because I'm not even sure yet."
"Well… what do you feel about this person?" Meg asked carefully. Christine sighed.
"Oh, Meg, I don't know. I just can't stop thinking about him. I'm wondering what he's doing and if he's thinking of me and if I should tell him how I feel and… Meg, what am I to do?"
Meg contemplated the situation and then said thoughtfully,
"If you're in love, why are you so distressed about the fact?"
"Because I don't want to be in love with him! It's not right!" Christine cried. Meg had no idea how not right it was. She thought it was the charming prince Raoul that Christine was referring to. Not the mysterious, masked, music man.
"I don't know what to tell you, Christine." She said, taking Christine's hand. "I've never been in love, not truly. If you believe that this is true love, you must tell him. If you don't you may regret it forever."
"Meg..." Christine began and then stopped. She had been on the verge of admitting the truth to her friend but… no. She could not. No one could ever know.
Especially not Erik.
"Thank you, Meg. I will think about it." Christine smiled weakly. Meg smiled back.
"Raoul was looking for you. And it's almost time for lunch."
"I'll just be a moment." Christine said quietly, smiling. Meg nodded and left the room. Christine looked at her reflection and resolved herself.
No more, she decided. No more music lessons. No more time alone with him. She had to avoid him if at all possible. This was not fair to anyone.
No more.
This avoidance turned out to be easier than she had anticipated. Erik did not appear to lunch. Philippe said that he had gone out walking in the grounds when Charles enquired as to his whereabouts.
Raoul, who was at beside Christine waited until everyone else was talking and then said,
"Would you like to go riding after lunch?" She looked up at him and then smiled, nodding.
"Yes, alright."
"Not to... to talk. We can do that another time." He said awkwardly but she smiled.
"I'd love to."
As soon as they were excused, the pair slipped out to the stables. Whilst they saddled their horses, Christine said casually,
"If it's not too personal, might I enquire as to what Monsieur Destler wanted? I only ask because he seems to be behaving most strangely."
Raoul tightened a strap and looked across at her.
"It's quite odd, actually. He wanted to return to Hirlos."
"What? Why?" She looked at him in surprise.
"I don't know, I didn't understand it at all. But he's changed his mind; he's agreed to stay for the next two weeks."
"Oh…" Christine climbed up onto the horses back and Raoul mounted his own. They cantered out of stables and once they were out of view of the castle, Christine laughed and kicked at the horses flanks so they rode at a gallop, racing ahead. Raoul smiled and sent his horse after her.
The wind threw her hair back, numbing her cheeks with cold air, but Christine just laughed. Eventually they slowed down near the top of a hill and she dismounted, still laughing. Raoul jumped down and they sat on the grass, panting.
"That was so exhilarating!" Raoul commented. Christine smiled, lying back on the grass and staring up at the bright blue sky.
"I know. I love being able to do that. It just feels like I'm running away from everything!"
"Is there a lot to run away from?" Raoul asked, looking at her.
She didn't reply for a moment, watching a bird fly overhead.
"There are some things that I wish I could just leave behind." She looked over at him. "But on the whole, no. For the most part, I am a very lucky person and I have a lot to be thankful for."
They sat talking for a couple of hours, talking of everything and nothing, Hirlos and Rymansia and a mountain of unimportant things, of shoes and ships and ceiling wax and cabbages and kings. The horses grazed behind them, enjoying the sunshine. It was only when a clock somewhere in the distance chimed that Raoul said, unenthusiastically,
"We should go back or we'll be late for dinner."
"Yes, I suppose so." Christine said, in a similarly unenthusiastic tone. They mounted their horses and rode back at a canter, neither inclined to return quickly. But for different reasons.
Raoul did not want to return to the strict rules of the castle and the watchful eye of his brother. He wanted to lie on the hillside, free and happy, with Christine beside him. How strange. He had come here without the slightest intention of having anything other than friendliness towards this girl, if that. And now he could not bear to think of being without her quick humour, her kind disposition, her simple charm and elegance that transformed a grey existence into the most colourful of lives.
He wanted to be with her. He wanted to know that he could be with her for the rest of his life. He wanted to wake each day with her beside him, because she was everything that he had never had and everything that he had always wanted.
Christine, on the other hand, had her own reasons for wanting to stay away from the castle. She did not want to be in the same building as Erik Destler again. Even though she had not seen him all day, the simple knowledge of him was driving her to distraction. She knew that if she saw him, she would not be able to control herself.
And all because of a dance. This was the sort of thing that she loathed. A ridiculous princess falling head-over-heels in love because of a dance. And yet she knew that it was true. But it hadn't just been the dance. It had been other things.
The way his eyes had widened when he'd learned her name and he'd tried to embarrass her the first time he'd met her.
The smirk that played about his mouth when he was thinking something about you.
The way he'd looked at her when he'd heard her sing for the first time, that calculating expression.
The smile on his face when he'd handed her the costume design.
That blazing look in his eyes when he was playing the piano.
The way he'd touched her cheek when he'd told her about raging love.
She could have gone on forever with that list. And she hated herself for that fact.
Erik was not present at dinner. Christine was torn between relief and disappointment and she didn't speak a word throughout the meal.
Everyone still seemed to be very tired from the masquerade ball and they all went to bed fairly early. But Christine, for all her exhaustion, lay in bed with a sleeping Ayesha curled up beside her and tried not to think about Erik Destler.
But the more she tried not to, the more she did, of course. The more his masked face appeared in her mind, tempting, telling her to come and find him, whispering of all the things that would happen if she went to find him now.
She needed to clear her head. Christine rose and pulled on a dressing gown, tiptoeing down the stairs with the full intention of going to the kitchen to get a drink and perhaps something to eat. But as she reached the bottom of the steps she found herself facing the corridor that led to the music room.
As if in a trance, she moved along the darkened corridor until she reached the music room door. She knew that he would be inside. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. He was in there. He was waiting.
Christine pushed open the door.
A/N: The quote "of shoes and ships and ceiling wax and cabbages and kings" is by Lewis Carroll. I put it in for no other reason that I think it's funny, lol. Thank you all for the reviews! I love them all!
Lotsa luv 'n' huggles
Katie