He had made his choice, but he had yet to act. He couldn't simply step into the room with no warning, as much as he wanted to. He had to prepare her for it so she wouldn't faint of fright. He wanted to act quickly, but not hastily. He considered this on her next lesson.
She had a big bag with a long shoulder strap that she tried to place over the back of the chair. It slipped off, and a few items fell out as she made a noise of distaste. She reached down to gather them up, and from behind the mirror Erik noticed that among the stray hair ribbons and ballet slipper was the book she had been reading not so long ago. She must have a tarted it again, just as she had said she would.
"How do you like the story the second time, child?"
She looked up, a little startled. The Voice seemed to be right in front of her.
"I love it even more," she smiled. "It's so lovely."
"You don't think it was wicked of him to lie to the princess like that?"
She frowned. She hadn't thought of it like that before.
"Do you think it was wicked of him, Angel?"
"I asked you your opinion, Christine," the Voice swiftly replied.
She thought it over, then shook her head.
"I don't think it was terribly wicked. It wasn't nice, certainly, but I think it can be forgiven. Besides," she gave a little shrug. "It's just a story, Angel."
He had no more questions for her that day, and her lesson went on as it normally did.
After the lesson, Erik went straight home as he always did. Now, however, he didn't simply return to composing as he usually did. Instead, he pulled out a letter and an envelope and began writing. When it was finished he sealed it and set out once again.
Madame Giry was busy with bookkeeping. They had sold a number of season tickets the previous day, and as the head of concierge, it was her job to make sure the records were in order. She was nearly finished and was looking forward to a peaceful night after that. Her hopes were shattered, however, when she heard the Voice.
"Madame Giry," the deep voice of the Opera Ghost seemed to come from everywhere at once.
Her heart leapt into her throat. So much for peace.
"Y-yes, Monsieur Ghost?" she tried to remain polite and hoped that the Ghost would not notice the tremble in her hands.
"I have a letter for you deliver."
"Yes, Monsieur, of course. To whom? The managers again?"
"To Christine Daaé."
Her brow furrowed for a moment. Christine? Her daughter's friend? Her hands tightly gripped the pen she was holding.
"Christine, Monsieur? Has- has the girl done something to displease you? Please, I beg you - do not harm her, Monsieur! I will make up for it, I promise-"
"Cease, Madame. I assure you the girl is in no trouble."
Madame Giry sagged down in her chair, relieved.
"I want you to place this envelope on her pillow before this evening."
She glanced at the white envelope on the table that she hadn't noticed before - a change from his usual red envelope.
"You will not open it, as per our usual arrangement."
She nodded uncertainly.
"The girl will not be harmed, Madame," he said in a slightly gentler tone. He could tell the woman was still worried for her daughter's friend. "I merely wish to give her my congratulations on her improvement lately. It surely won't be long until she's a prima donna, I'm certain of it."
Madame Giry nodded again. She had noticed Christine had been improving quite a lot when she saw her in rehearsals.
"Tonight, Madame - it is of the utmost importance, do you understand?" he dropped any gentleness his voice held previously.
"Yes, Monsieur!" she jumped up, grabbing the letter, and headed for the chorus girls' dormitories.
She nervously fiddled with the envelope on the way there. She often delivered letters for the Ghost, but this one was so unlike all the others. It was not only the color that was different - whereas the others had a wax seal that bore the face of a skull, this wax seal was embossed with the depiction of a wing, like that of a bird or an angel.
She ran a finger across the seal. Was it really what he had said it was? For a brief moment she considered opening it and reading it, but then she glanced about anxiously. The Ghost could be watching, for all she knew. She left it sealed, and placed it on Christine's pillow as instructed.
That was where Christine found it when she finally retired to bed after a long day of ballet practice. She noticed it right away as she stepped into her room, and puzzled over who could have left it there. She settled her belongings and sat on her bed, carefully opening the expensive looking envelope. Was it from Raoul, perhaps? No, his letters always came through the post. Her brow furrowed as she began to read it.
My Dear Christine,
I noticed today (by the placement of your bookmark) that you have most likely reached the part of the story where the bird has been turned back into a man. Keeping in line with this, I have a surprise for you that I believe you will find most reminiscent of your beloved fairy tale. I will see you at our lesson tomorrow - Your Angel Of Music
Her heart skipped a beat. The angel had never written her any kind of message before. Was this his handwriting? She ran a gentle finger over the delicate, curling script. Could he write, then? Surely this message was priceless, having been written by an angel. It was only after her shock at the letter began to fade that the actual content of said letter started to sink in.
A surprise? What on earth could it be? 'In keeping with the fairy tale', he had said. But what did that mean?
She could scarcely sleep a wink that night, her thoughts consumed with what the surprise could be.
A gift? No, not terribly likely. Something music related, perhaps? Maybe new music to sing. But no, it had to with the story she was reading.
Her half sleeping mind had the terrible though occur that perhaps the angel was going to turn her into a bird, and her hands clenched against the sheets - but surely that was ridiculous. Her angel would never harm her like that, she told herself as she drifted in and out of slumber.
She couldn't help the spring in her step as she made her way to her dressing room the next morning. She was so excited! Once inside the room her eyes darted about, looking for any clues, but the room looked just the same as it always had.
"Good morning, Christine."
Her eyes snapped to the mirror where that dark, warm voice seemed to be coming from. The little grin on her face grew to a wide smile.
"Good morning, Angel."
"Are you ready for your lesson, child?
She clasped her hands behind her back.
"Yes."
"I believe our lesson will run long today. We have quite a lot to go over in preparation for the new shows coming up."
She frowned, but nodded. Surely his surprise was not an extra long lesson?
"Ah, unless of course-"
She perked up at his words. She could practically hear the grin behind them.
"Unless you would prefer the surprise before your lesson?"
"Yes! Please," she nodded eagerly, placing a hand on her chest. "Oh, I don't think I can wait!"
The Voice chuckled and her smile returned.
"As you wish, Christine."
She heard an odd whirring noise, and suddenly her mirror rolled away to reveal a figure standing behind it.