IX

Antoinette sat in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Across from her was her old friend, she sighed and murmured, "Bless me father, for I have sinned."

He chuckled lightly, "Shouldn't this be done in anonymity?"

"Would it really be anonymous?" she queried, "after all, we have been friends for a long time. Mostly I just wish to get some things off my chest, and I know that you will understand."

"Very well," he said, "what is it, Anny? What has been bothering you?"

"A friend of mine, actually," she said, "a man I have known since we were very young."

"And what has he done?"

"What hasn't he done?" she groaned, "he does not tell me what he does, but I know. He blackmails and steals, he manipulates those around him, he terrifies people, even me at times, he has killed. I know this, I saw him do it once, but that was self defence, I know that that could be justified, but lately? No, I know that he has killed people who were, if not innocent, at least undeserving."

"And how does this involve you?" her friend asked.

"Because, I could stop it," she frowned, "if I just told the police, or the managers, I could stop everything. But I cannot, I have thought of it many times, debated it, but in the end I have never been able to turn him in. He told me once it was because if I told anyone then I would lose my job, and then I would not be able to support myself or my daughter, but that isn't it. I cannot turn him in because I care for him. Every time I think of it I can see that little boy in the cage, the little boy who was terrified, and desperate. And I know that he is not that person anymore, I know that he has grown up, and changed…but I still see him, so young and afraid, and wondrous. I do not know what I should do, Pierre."

Pierre nodded his head as he mulled through what she had said, "Neither do I," he admitted, "this isn't something easy for you, Antoinette, and I can't tell you what to do."

"I know," she replied, looking out the window, "but at least I got it all off my chest."

He smiled and rubbed his hazel eyes, "Yes, sometimes that is all you need, no?"

"Indeed."

Christine laughed as a snowball flew past her head, "Meg!"

"Sorry," Meg laughed, "I couldn't help myself."

Christine lobbed her own handful of snow at her friend, missing by at least a metre, "Neither could I."

Both girls giggled and sat down in the snowdrift by the small pond. It turned out that their mother's friend, Pierre, was living with widow and her daughter on their farm. It was a nice place and they watched the three cows shuffle through the snow, nosing it around to find the grass beneath, ignoring the hay that was scattered in the field for them.

"Its so lovely here," Meg sighed, "I wish we could stay longer."

"And miss the masquerade?" Christine asked.

"You're right," Meg laughed, "I'd never miss that."

They sighed and watched a pair of horses kick play in the field. A younger black one kicking up its heels, rearing and bucking as the heavy draft horse ignored it.

"Do you like it here?" Meg asked.

"A lot," Christine admitted. For once, in a very long time she wasn't constantly looking over her shoulder or jumping at the smallest noise or shadow, "but my toes are frozen."

"Then we should skate some more," Meg said, "it'll warm our toes up."

"Of course," Christine said, "just like dunking our feet in a bucket of freezing water would."

"Oh come on," Meg pouted, "we only have three more days left out here. I want to make the most of them."

"Fine," Christine sighed, "but Madame will kill us if we get frostbite."

Three days passed quickly and they found themselves packing to leave before they knew it. The carriage was loaded and goodbyes were said.

"I'll miss you," Pierre said, hugging Antoinette tightly, "be safe."

"Of course," she replied, "you too."

"Of course, and goodbye girls," he added, "I hope you enjoy your party. You will both make fine dancers someday. Who knows, maybe you'll even make prima donnas."

"Thank you," Meg said, with a huge smile, "and thank you for having us!"

"Yes," Christine agreed, "it was very kind of you."

"Think nothing of it," he said, "it was my pleasure."

The carriage rattled off and Meg turned to her mother, "He is a priest, right?"

"Yes," Antoinette said.

"Well, then why is he living with another woman, and a daughter?"

Antoinette laughed, "He is helping them with the farm," she said, "after her husband died Colette was having a hard time, so Pierre agreed to help her. He used to work on a farm, so he knows what to do."

"Oh," Meg said, blushing a bit, "that-that makes sense."

Christine elbowed her friend gently and turned to look out the window. She could barely see anything through the condensation and the frost, but it didn't bother her. Now she was worried about returning to the theatre, the place that seemed, now more than ever, like a prison.

Erik sighed and paced the lair. It was finished, finally finished. All the music, the lyrics, the costume designs. All finished. He refused to work on it anymore, it was bound and ready to be given to the managers. No matter what he would not go back to that opera and edit it anymore.

"Maybe just…" he growled and shook his head, quickly grabbing his cloak and putting it on, "no! Perhaps I will go and get something to eat." His stomach clenched in hunger and he nodded his head. Yes, he would go and get something to eat.

The theatre was empty except for the cleaning ladies and those who had no where to go for the holidays. It made getting around easier. Less dodging into the shadows, or creeping through hallways that were almost never used.

He made his way to the kitchen and snatched up a few pieces of bread and some cheese. It wasn't the most delightful meal, but it was food, and that would do.

As he ate he ran through his plans for the masquerade. She would e there, he knew it, and she would be there with that damned boy. But that didn't matter, no, not really, because he would get her back. He loved her, and that was what really mattered. She loved him too, she had to love him. He had seen it in her eyes that night. She was just confused, but he could fix that, he would show her that he really wasn't such a terrible person.

Voices jolted him from his thoughts and he slid into the shadows and three people passed him. Antoinette, her daughter and…Christine. He shook his head and tried to calculate the day. Had time passed that quickly?

"Oh, Christine!" Meg exclaimed, "I can't wait. Maman has gotten me a lovely dress. I even got to pick it."

"You're so lucky," Christine said, "I don't' know what I'll be wearing."

"No doubt the vicomte will have something for you," Antoinette said, "now go put your things away. It is getting late."

They murmured their agreements and hurried off. Erik scowled and stalked away. He would eliminate that boy from the picture, the only real question was how he would do so. He wouldn't kill him, no, that would upset her too much. Perhaps he would just scare him off. That certainly couldn't be too hard.

A/N: Sorry its been so long, but I have been working on other things and my dad misplaced my cd with all my work on it...for some reason putting it in it's case was just too difficult! Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter and will drop a review.