Christine could think it nothing less than a miracle that Erik seemed to trust her again. She truly hadn't thought he would be able to move past such a betrayal so quickly, so she took it as a good sign of progress even though she wasn't certain what had inspired.

Their lessons continued on normally, though it was a few weeks before he offered to conduct them in his house again.

He knew, now, that she hadn't meant to leave him waiting like that, hadn't meant to break her word, and though he could logically see that she hadn't shown up for reasons outside control, that she still presumably meant all the things she'd told him - it still hurt. No amount of reasoning could talk the hurt away, so he didn't try to. It would have to hurt for a while, he supposed, and it made him a little more guarded around her for a time. It began to fade after a while, and as it began to hurt a little less he let his defenses down once more.

"Would you like today's lesson up here or downstairs?"

Her eyes lit up and she grinned.

"Downstairs, please!"

She had been concerned that perhaps he wouldn't ever offer that again, that perhaps the hurt had been a little too much to ever again be comfortable with that level of vulnerability.

But sure enough he led her down the familiar tunnels and across the lake, and they once again had their lesson by his own piano, and Christine didn't think she would ever stop smiling.

He offered her tea afterwards, which she gladly accepted. He brought it to her on the couch, and he stood and watched as she sipped at it, a small smile on his face.

"What is it?" she finally asked, her face pink under his intent gaze.

"I've missed you, Christine," he said softly.

They had been doing just as many lessons as they always had, but somehow she knew what he meant. It had been different between them, for those few weeks. But being there in his home once more - it was just like nothing had ever happened to interrupt that. She smiled sweetly at him.

"I've missed you too, Erik."

He was seized by the sudden urge to hug her, but he refrained, instead going to the kitchen until the desired passed. He truly had missed having her in his home, even when she was doing nothing more than just sitting on his couch and drinking tea. It made the entire house feel better, somehow.

When they had finished their tea and small talk, he took her back upstairs, pausing just behind the mirror.

"Christine," he said, his voice serious. "There is something I want you to have."

"What is it, Erik?" she was a little worried. What could it be?

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a key on a long chain and held it out to her.

She gasped a little.

"To my house," he explained, the redness on his face mostly hidden in the dim light filtering through the mirror.

"Oh, I'll treasure and guard this always, Erik," she said solemnly, taking it and placing the chain around her neck next to the little charm he had given her - something that she wore more often than not, something that did not escape his notice. The chain being so much longer than a regular necklace, she tucked it underneath the front of her dress, turning from him first before she did so, but even so he looked away from her as he realized what she was doing, desperately trying not to stare at her.

The key was something that had weighed heavily on him for a while - he had been planning to give her one since before the incident with the de Chagnys, and of course after that the issue of giving her a key had been one of extreme discomfort (to think, he had been about to give her a key, and she had simply run off with that boy! He had been mortified!) but after he had found out the truth, it was a thought that occurred to him once again, and he finally felt ready to trust her with it.

"There is, of course," he continued. "The matter of how you will cross the lake, but I am currently working on that. Would you be comfortable with using a paddle?"

She thought about it and nodded.

"Good, good. I'll inform when it's all finished. And we'll work on helping you get your bearings on the water, as well. All in due time, I suppose."

He slid the mirror open and she stepped down into her dressing room before turning to look up at him again, her eyes shining with joy and hopefulness and an emotion Erik couldn't quite name, her hand clutching tightly to the chain the now-hidden key was on.

"Thank you so much, Angel."

"You are quite welcome, my dear."

For the briefest of moments Erik thought she about to reach out and hug him, and his heart leapt into his throat. He both wanted it more than anything in the world and also sought to avoid it somehow.

He reached out a hand, hoping to cut her off, but by the time his hand was too far out to pretend he was doing anything other than trying to touch her, he suddenly realized that she hadn't been moving in to hug him - or perhaps she had, but she had stopped herself at the last second. Erik watched with wide eyes, vaguely horrified, as his gloved hand reached out and gave her shoulder a single, awkward pat.

He attempted a smile, which he was certain he failed at, and quickly closed the mirror in more of a slam than he intended.

Christine's own eyes had gone wide at the touch, something so rare coming from him. In the wake of the slammed mirror, she turned around, her back to the mirror, and bit her grinning lip as her cheeks flushed. He was so very awkward at times, and it only made him all the more dear to her.

Erik walked back to his house with his hand to his head. Why had he done that? Why did he have to do that? The horrible and wonderful scene replayed before his eyes over and over and he groaned in embarrassment.

In the following weeks Erik continued to work away on the small boat for Christine, and he showed her his progress every time she visited his house.

"You have so very many skills," she said one day as she admired the half finished boat. "I would be quite surprised if there was anything you couldn't do."

She ran a finger across the smooth wood of the bow. Erik didn't reply, but she was used to this habit of his by now and took no notice.

There were a great many things Erik couldn't do, and he was all too aware of them. He couldn't live normally. He couldn't be loved. But he knew better than to bring any of that up - it would only make her pretty mouth twist into a frown, and that would never do. That was another thing Erik couldn't do - he couldn't hurt or upset Christine. He would go back to Persia and face the Shah's tortures before he undertook any action that would cause him to knowingly harm Christine. She deserved the world, and he was going to see that she got it. He would do anything for her happiness - and if being able to decide to pay a visit to her old mentor all on her own would bring her happiness, who was he to deny her that? Her happiness was his happiness, and it just so happened that her visiting him also made him happy regardless, so he continued to work fervently on the boat.

Christine was quite anxious for it to be finished, as well. She thought of it quite often, sometimes on her own, and sometimes when something would remind her of it.

She saw one of those reminders one day when she was out taking a walk with Raoul.

Since Raoul had returned, they often went on outings together, places here and there and nearly everywhere. Christine was aware it was something of a minor scandal - while it was not looked down upon for a vicomte to keep the company of a singer, it was unusual that he take her so many respectable places in the broad daylight. Their outings were never chaperoned, either (regardless of her distaste for the concept, she had no one to chaperone her, anyway), and that only added to the general gossip about them, but Raoul didn't care one fig what anyone said about the matter. Christine didn't mind, and that was the only important thing to him.

They walked along the winding sidewalk, Christine holding on to his arm, and eventually their path took them near the lake.

"Carlotta made them stop the entire rehearsal because she didn't like the color of the director's vest. He actually went and changed it! I've never seen anything more ridiculous, it was just like when-" she stopped mid-sentence to stare at the lake. "Ooo, Raoul - look at the boats!"

There was a little dock on the lake with a number of small paddle boats tied to it, and a man was renting them to anyone adventurous enough to try.

She tugged on Raoul's arm and pointed an excited finger at them, and he laughed.

"Since when do you like boats, Lotte?" he teased.

"But look - you can rent them!"

"You wish to rent one?"

She looked up at him with shining eyes.

"Can we?"

"Of course we can!"

He led her down to the lake, smiling at her enthusiasm. He couldn't help but think her newfound interest in the boats and being on the water had something to do with him. How many times had he told her that she'd love being on a ship? These boats were the first step, obviously.

He paid the man and thanked him, and then picked out a boat for them to take across the lake. Christine's face was pure radiance, and Raoul was pleased that they had found something that seemed to make her so happy.

She watched eagerly as he rowed them out towards the middle of the water and he told her tales of the previous times he had been similar boats during training and expeditions. She smiled that sweet smile of hers and made no mention of the fact that she, too, had been in a boat almost like this numerous times before.

"Raoul," she said eventually. "Do you think I could try rowing? It's not terribly hard, is it?"

Raoul considered it.

"Well," he said, grinning. "There's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

He handed her the paddle.

She had a little difficulty at first, but Raoul was patient and they laughed when she accidentally splashed them both with water. With his gentle instruction she soon became more at ease with how to steer the little boat. They spent much of the afternoon on the water.

Christine could scarcely believe her luck. A chance to practice with paddling a boat before Erik had to show her! She had never done such a thing before, but he would be quite pleased with her skills now. She wasn't nearly as good as Raoul at it, but she didn't think she was too terrible.

"We should head back soon," Raoul said at last. "Your arms are going to be terribly tired!"

She laughed, realizing he was right - her arms were already tired, and she felt she was going to be in for a surprise the next morning.

"Take us back to shore, Captain Christine!"

Once on shore, they treated themselves to a visit to the ice cream parlor. It was a slow hour for the little store, it seemed, and the two of them were the only customers at that moment. Christine noticed the strange look on the shopkeeper's face as he glanced from her to Raoul and then searched for something just past them, looking out the large windows to see if anyone else was coming in. With no chaperone in sight, his glance surreptitiously fell on her hands. Christine balled her hands into her skirts, hiding her fingers. It was no business of the man's whether or not she was wearing a ring. He took their order with a raised eyebrow, but Raoul seemingly didn't notice. They sat down at a table near the window where they could watch the people outside come and go.

"Don't you miss being in faraway places?" Christine asked, curious.

Raoul frowned a little.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "It's difficult, you know? I miss the adventure, seeing new places, trying new things - but when I'm gone, I miss a lot about France, too. The familiarity, the people... I'm afraid I'll always have to be missing something or someone, it seems."

She nodded understandingly.

"That does sound difficult."

"Philippe said I was being a goose about the whole matter," he confided shyly. "But it makes sense to you, doesn't it, Lotte?"

"Oh, Raoul, you're not a goose! No, it makes perfect sense."

She could understand all too well what it was like to have one's heart in two places at once.

They walked back to the opera house, and once it front of it they paused.

"Do you want me to walk you in?"

She shook her head.

"No, that's fine. Thank you for such a lovely afternoon."

He reached a hand up and softly cradled the side of her face before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

"All afternoons are lovely when they're spent with you," he murmured.

Her heart was racing as she gazed up into those clear grey eyes. She knew they were probably becoming a spectacle standing there on the steps of the Populaire as they were, but she couldn't find it in her to pull away. She swallowed hard.

"Will I see you next week?" he asked as he brushed his thumb across her cheek.

She could only nod.

"Until then," he smiled, and kissed her one last time on the cheek.

She was sorely tempted to turn her face at the last second so that his lips would meet hers once again.

She stood on the steps a moment and watched him walk down the street before she huffed out a breath and turned to go inside. She had work to do still - Erik wanted her to learn a new song, and she needed to memorize it before their next lesson - but she wasn't certain she would be able to focus on it at all after that kiss. She raised her fingers to her lips, which were still tingling from the sensation. A lovely afternoon, indeed.

When they met next week, they went back to the lake and Raoul helped her refine her technique. It made his heart feel warm to be able to share this with her, to have the chance to teach something that he loved so much to someone that he loved so much.

It was several days after that Erik surprised her when they were on the bank of the underground lake. He pulled out a little paddle from the shadows and presented it to her.

"Your boat is not quite finished, but I want to be certain you'll be able to handle it first. It will be up to you today to get us to my home, my dear."

Christine sat in the gondola with a determined look on her face, and Erik sat down behind her, pole in hand just in case. She dipped the paddle in the water when suddenly Erik spoke up, concern in his voice.

"Christine - you do know how to swim, don't you?"

"Of course, Erik."

He nodded uneasily. He could just picture Christine tipping the gondola over in her eagerness, and the ensuing mess that would create - his mask at the bottom of the lake, and her drenched to bone and catching a chill so far underground.

She surprised him, however.

"Christine, you're doing marvelously!"

Her face turned pink under his praise. He was so very good at so many things, and she was often only mildly good at most things - could she really have been blamed for spending her time with Raoul working on a skill to try and impress Erik? It had worked, after all.

"Do you know the way to the other side?"

"I think so," she frowned as she squinted into the darkness, the light from lantern only going so far.

They reached the fork in the path and Christine stopped.

"To the right?" she asked.

"Yes, dear - always to the right."

"What does the other way lead to?"

Erik was quiet a moment.

"That's not important, Christine. The only important thing is that you always go to the right, never to the left - that's quite critical, I'm afraid."

She turned to look at him and saw his expression was deadly serious. She was rather afraid of pressing the issue - she knew he had made mention of boobytrapping some of the entrances to his home, and she realized that she probably didn't want to know what lay down that path, after all.

They reached his house slower than they would have if Erik had been steering, but they reached it all in one piece and completely dry, and Erik felt quite proud of his student.

"Well done, my dear," he told her as he showed her how to tie the boat to the ring stuck in the side of the stonework on the bank.

After that he let her row each way there and back, noting with relief that she never forgot which direction to go when they reached the fork. It was with great ceremony that he announced one day that her boat was finished, and after that he allowed her to paddle on her own to his house while he followed behind in the gondola, just in case she should need help.

But she never did, and he felt his heart swell with love for this dear, clever young woman who had somehow stolen into his life and captivated his very soul.

After nearly a dozen of such supervised crossings, he declared her perfectly capable of coming over on her own, and he extended his unfettered welcome to her.

"Any hour, any day, any time at all - you are always welcome here, my dear. I will never not be happy to see you in you my home," he hesitated. "But I only ask that you make yourself known as soon you enter the house, and do not come looking for me until you hear me call you in. I am often without my mask in my home, you see, and I do not wish for you to receive a fright."

She was about to say that she didn't mind if he didn't have his mask on (she mostly didn't mind, and besides, it felt the most polite thing to say), but then she thought that perhaps he would be the one that would mind, so she simply nodded solemnly and looked out across the dark water, squeezing the key around her neck in her hand tightly. She wondered if he felt terribly vulnerable around others without his mask, even if they didn't mind how he looked and didn't call attention to his face. She knew so much of him, yet so much more was still shrouded in mystery.

After that, Christine had the ability to visit Erik whenever she pleased, and things were never quite the same again.