When Christine woke, she was no longer in the carriage. Instead, she laid on a white lace canopy bed in a beautiful room. But where was she?
Just then a stout woman came in, carrying a tray. "Oh good, you're awake. The Master was getting worried that you were sleeping too long." She said.
"Master? Where am I?"
"Oh, dear child - do you not know? You are in the Vicomte's house."
"Why? Why am I not in the opera house dormitories?"
"That's the very question the missus asked too. But the Master would not allow it, saying it was not safe. Apparently at that time the criminal whom captured you was not yet behind bars."
"Where was he?"
"Who?"
"The...criminal?"
"Still on the wagon, I believe. Then they put him in the town square. Do not worry yourself, Miss - he has many guards watching him, as well as him being tied up."
"Why is he not behind bars?"
"They could not settle the people of the city down until the officers allowed them to see the great Phantom. He'll be in bars before nightfall, though."
Christine fell back against the pillows. She could picture him; his hands tied to a wooden pole. His head would be bowed, his black hair making a small shelter for part of his face to hide under. His eyes would be closed, and he'd be envisioning her...but would those envisions be of good times or bad? Of their first kiss, or when she was being held in Raoul's arms as the officers made him go out the other door. She turned her head away from the maid as tears trickled down her cheeks.
"You've been through a lot, I see. Well, I'm here to take care of you. Would you like me to start a bath for you?"
Christine shook her head. Baths always sounded lovely to her, but not now. She was happy as she was.
Looking down, she saw that she no longer wore the dress she had been for countless days. Instead, there was a white nightgown. "Where is my dress?"
"Oh, Master ordered that to be taken off you at once. I haven't a clue why, but he seemed real worked up that you wore it."
Christine sighed. "He didn't burn it, did he?" She joked.
"Oh, he tried. But the Missus said to let you keep the peasant dress."
Christine groaned, knowing fully now that the Madame de Changy didn't like any part of having her there in that house. "Please do not burn it."
"I'll take great care in washing it and returning it to you, Mademoiselle."
"Thank you."
"You are very welcome. Now, I was sent to tell you to eat this all, and get plenty of rest. I believe the master is sending for a doctor to examine you."
"Oh, please tell him to cancel it. I don't wish to be seen by a doctor; I'm very healthy, I assure you."
"Very well, I shall give him your message. But I will warn you; he is not easily persuaded out of his ideas."
Christine nodded with a frown. She knew that all too well.
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By the afternoon, she had seen little Katie sneaking into her room to ask questions about when she used to be on stage. Each time she was dragged out by a frowning, angry looking Madame de Changy, who would give Christine nasty looks whenever she saw Katie even coming close to the bedroom door. Madame de Changy had honored her with that horrid face six times. And the stout maid was in and out countless times. But never yet did she see Raoul, which unnerved her. Where was he? Attending to business as usual? But was it usual business, or was he arranging the murder of Erik so soon? The thought made her ball up and sob. Just what she needed - to cry more. Whenever she could find a moment of peace, Christine would cry to release some of the anguish in her soul.
Just as she was getting herself worked up enough to not be able to breath or speak, there was a knock on the door, following Raoul coming in.
"Christine? Oh, dear Christine, are you alright? I knew you shouldn't have been left alone. Perhaps you'd like to come downstairs? Katie has spoken of nothing but you. She agrees...she thinks you're the most beautiful woman that she has ever seen as well - and I said not a word to her before." Raoul went on with a smile.
"Where were you?" She asked, not caring for anything but Erik.
"I was out. Seeing how the officers are fairing and what they are doing to keep you utterly safe. You need not worry; I took that monster off the streets and made them put him in a solid jail with guards outside the bars at all times. You need never to worry again."
Christine swallowed, trying to get out her next words. "Thank you."
"Just doing anything I can for you to make you happy."
"I know something that would really make me happy."
"What is it? Anything, it's yours."
"I want to go back to the Opera Populaire. To my dormitory."
"Are you mad?" He exclaimed to her surprise. "You are shaken up; I am always seeing you cry. You have been through so much, yet you want to go where you were when you were kidnaped?"
"That is my life, Raoul. You know that. Meg, Madame Giry...the stage. I will work as I did before this happened. And I will go back to my room. As you said, there is nothing to fear...at least not from Erik."
"What is that to mean?"
"Raoul...your wife does not want me here."
"What did she say to you?" Raoul asked, jumping on the question as if he was shocked his wife could be anything but an angel to her rival, that was at the moment Christine.
"She has not uttered a word to me, that is not the problem. The problem resides in the way she acts; the way she looks at me. She makes it clear she does not want me here. And I can not blame her. She has every right."
"What would make you say such?"
"Raoul, I am your ex-fiancé! I am not the person that your wife would want to be around! I once held all your affection, accepted each of your kisses. She does not want me here again. Who knows...perhaps she thinks I am low enough to tempt you away from her. Either way, it is bound to cause a great disturbance. I wish not to be a burden. And I miss Meg very much. I want to go home. To my home."
Raoul's shoulders sagged as he nodded. What could he do but to accept her decision. It seemed to him that he should have learned by now that whatever she asked of him would hurt him and help her.
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Christine ran up the opera's steps as quickly as she could, holding her carpet bag in one hand, and carelessly waving goodbye to Raoul with the other. She burst through the doors to see Meg anxiously waiting for her.
"Christine!" She shrieked, running to her dearest friend. Christine dropped her carpet bag and hugged her.
"Oh, I was so worried for you, Christine! They had to cancel the last opera because I simply could not do it under such great stress. I am so glad that you are well and safe...and home!"
There was much Meg wanted to catch Christine up on. After she got through Meg's endless chatter, Christine went to her room and fell upon her bed, wanting sleep but her tears refused to grant it. Her torn up heart was not as easy to convince as Raoul was, therefore it went on hurting without end.
A few hours later, what must have been midnight, she heard a knock on the door.
It was Madame Giry's voice that followed by, "It's me, child."
"Come in, Madame."
It was not a sympathetic look on her face when she did come in. Crossing the room in graceful but long strides, she was soon standing before Christine's wearied form.
"Welcome home. I trust your trip was not too rough for you."
Christine looked at her confused. "Excuse me?"
"I know of your lies, Christine. I know you, and I know Erik, and I know you left with him, and willingly."
"Oh, please tell no one!" Christine panicked.
"It is not my place to say. You know I would do nothing to hurt the two of you. But Christine, have you heard the news of what is to happen to Erik?"
She shook her head. "Raoul refused to tell me."
Madame Giry handed her a newspaper. Christine cried out when she saw the picture of Erik. He was much like she had envisioned him - his hands tied behind his back, a rope around his chest, tying him securely to the wooden pole. His head was bowed, his hair hanging down in streaks. But his eyes were not closed. They glared longingly into the camera. Those tortured eyes stared right to her soul as she looked at that picture. "Did you see him today, before they put him in the jail cell?"
Madame Giry nodded. "I saw him, and he did see me. I was passing to go to the market."
"What did you do? Did you say anything?"
"I said nothing. I looked at him casually, then walked away."
"But how could you? You love him; why treat him as nothing?"
"What would you like me to do, Christine? I have stood up for him all my life. I have made excuses for everything he does. I have gotten him out of all the trouble he purposely got himself in. I am through. There is nothing more I can do. I will not ruin my daughter's reputation to just make more excuses for Erik. If by some miracle I could get him out of this, he'd be in the same position this time next month. I am through with it."
Christine said nothing. Instead, she started to weep heavily. "Do not sit there and cry like a little girl, Christine! You shame me and you shame Erik when you act like such."
"What is there to do?"
"You love him still, Christine. You go help him."
"I cant. He has me under a vow of secrecy."
"Then comfort him. Talk to him. Ease his pain. If you love him, you will not ignore his needs so you can lock yourself in this room. This is when he needs you most. Go to him."
"Madame...do you know his sentence?"
"It has not been decided yet; the trial is to last until tomorrow afternoon. But I think what both of us fear will very soon become his reality."
Christine wiped the wetness from her face with her sleeve. "Then I will go to him tomorrow night."
"Good. But in the meantime, I want you up and about. You have caused my daughter great stress. She has an opening night coming up on Friday, to make up for last week's cancellation. She will not go on this time either unless she is sure you are fine. She does not know the truth. Make her believe you are fine. Help her through the day, then cry at night behind close doors, if you must. Is that clear, Miss Daae?"
Christine nodded in reply.
"Good. Then get some sleep. You'll be waking at dawn; and I don't want you sleeping in like you always try to do. You'll be waking; if not by your own will, then by my switch."
"Yes, Madame."
Madame Giry nodded, then, taking one look back at the girl, shut the door and left.
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The next day, true to her word, Christine awoke before everyone else and readied herself for the day. She did her best to put all thoughts of Erik away, yet his face and beautiful eyes always stayed with her. Through the day she followed Meg around, tending to her needs, and doing fittings for different costumes that she would need over the next few months.
Now clad in a sensible white blouse and dark blue skirt instead of a dirty peasant costume, Christine felt right at home, even though her heart longed to go back to that house that she knew for too short of time.
At lunch time, Christine and Meg departed company. When Meg did not return to her, even hours after the break was over, Christine decided that she would work on getting the blood stains out of the seams instead of continuing the fittings. Why could her fingers not adjust to this type of work?
For many hours she carried on with her lonely work, until it was dinner time. She was heading to her room to change when she saw Madame Giry.
"Madame, where is Meg? I haven't seen her since noon." Christine asked.
"She is not feeling well, so I sent her to bed. She now doubts that she'll be able to pull off this opera now."
"But I have not cried a single tear, or even frowned once!" Christine exclaimed.
"No, my child, it was not your fault. She fell ill with laryngitis, therefore she can not sing. Perhaps that is a reason why she wants to see you..."
"No." Christine suddenly said in a grave voice.
"No what?"
"I will not take her place. The two of you may ask me, but I will not do it. My job now is doing nothing more than silent roles or being a dancer in the backround. I no longer play back up to the leading prima donnas. Both times I did that for Carlotta, it ended in nothing but misery and five minutes of fame. No, Madame."
"At least see her. She missed you very much while you were away."
"I will see her, but please, work on finding a replacement for her. As I stand before you I swear that I wont be in that opera."
Madame Giry put her hand gently on Christine's cheek. "There are no replacements for my two daughters." She said with a smile, then walked away. Christine loved when she felt like she belonged to Madame Giry, but hated when the woman reminded her at times like this. The ballet mistress knew how it melted Christine's heart.
Sighing, Christine changed directions and headed to Meg's room.
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