A/N: Hey, folks! Thanks for joining me for a new story! I've been absolutely loving working on this, and it's so exciting to hear what you all think about it. I hope you keep following along!

As much as he had doubted whether or not he should teach her before that first lesson, once he had decided to continue, Erik found it surprisingly easy to slip into the new routine. Christine always seemed to arrive at the point in the day when his patience was at its lowest, and it wasn't long before he found himself all too happy to abandon his work for a while in favor of training her. She proved herself to be a quick study and an attentive student, clearly taking every word he spoke to heart and eagerly following his instructions. His attraction to her voice did not diminish as he had feared it might; instead he felt more drawn to her after each lesson, more eager to hear her sing again the next day. She threw herself into every song they worked on with her full force, as if the music required every ounce of passion she possessed at all times. Perhaps that burst of bold ambition that had compelled her to speak to him on the street had not been as uncharacteristic as he had first assumed. As the weeks passed, she gradually seemed to grow less timid with him, and although he made sure to keep his interactions with her cautious and measured—he needed to if he wanted this tentative relationship to have any longevity, as his relationships with others tended to grow hostile quickly—he was beginning to feel a little more at ease with all of this.

It occurred to him several weeks into their lessons that she had not once asked about the mask. Surely she had heard the rumors—he was well aware of the quite colorful gossip about him that circulated so widely—but Christine acted like she hardly noticed anything odd about him at all. It was likely only out of respect for his position that she concealed any curiosity she might feel, but he supposed that was at least a sign that she possessed some good sense. That, combined with her ambition, talent, and dedication, was enough to make her quite tolerable to him. At least she was tolerable enough that he did not mind spending most afternoons in her company, and that was more than he could say for anyone else.

In truth, he was reluctantly finding teaching her to be quite pleasant. She was talented, and it wouldn't take much refinement to make her a very promising addition to the company. At first he had toyed with the idea of giving her a small role at some point during the season, testing how she might fair on stage. But it wasn't long before, much to his surprise, the impulse to cast her as a lead for the season began to prick at him. He had tried to brush off the idea; he'd started listening to her much more critically when she sang, searching for evidence that she would not be able to handle such an undertaking. She was inexperienced and unprepared for the pressures of being a lead, but although she certainly needed training, she never completely fell apart under his scrutiny. Her voice, her presence, enthralled him. With some refinement, she would be world-class. Better, even. And this was, after all, just the kind of impact that he wanted to have as the musical director, promoting voices that were new and unique, that nobody yet knew they wanted but that would be called strokes of genius once experienced.

Of course, this justification would not make it any easier to explain to the board that he wanted to cast a completely unknown and untested singer over a bigger name that was sure to sell tickets and garner glowing reviews. Even after he knew that he would not easily be able to bury the idea of casting her, he put off mentioning it to anyone else, half hoping that if he waited long enough he would be able to talk himself out of it. The thought of having to pander to men who looked down on him still made him bristle, but he was coming to accept the necessity of it, at least for now. He would resign himself to working within their delicate sensibilities and rigid social codes, carefully inserting his influence wherever he could while trying not to make more enemies than he already had. He had risen this far because of the favor he'd gained with the right people, and if he needed to continue to seek respect in order to eventually have the control he wanted, then so be it. The potential for all the work he could do at the company, all the beauty he could render and all the growth he could usher in, had to be worth a bit of pandering to the boorish men who considered themselves bastions of culture. Casting Christine threw a wrench into this plan and, truthfully, he was not entirely sure it was a battle worth picking.

Still, whenever he felt that he was close to talking himself out of it, she would arrive for their lesson, greeting him with an earnest, gentle smile, and any resolve that he had reached would quickly begin to fade. As soon as she began to sing, he would find himself again picturing her on stage, singing even more gloriously than she did now and making her debut to great acclaim. The image was too tantalizing to give up completely.

Finally, the morning came when Armand arrived for a final meeting with him before retreating to Newport for the summer, and Erik knew he could not put off presenting the idea any longer. Preparations for the season would move more slowly over the next few months with the bulk of the company's leadership out of the city, and Armand was checking up on him to ensure that everything was set to move forward smoothly in their absence. Erik supposed that he could at least take a bit of satisfaction in the knowledge that he would likely be sending Armand off to his summer retreat with something new to worry over.

Armand arrived exactly when expected and easily took his place across the desk from Erik, exchanging the brief pleasantries that his upbringing dictated despite the fact that he knew well that Erik did not care for such conversation and would much rather get to what they were here to discuss. But Armand, good-natured as ever, did not seem to take any offense to Erik's terse replies to his questions.

"Anyway," he said finally, "construction is still on schedule and all of the planning appears to be going smoothly. Is there anything that you're concerned about?"

Very much so, Erik thought. "No, although I am glad to hear that construction is still going well. I have been meaning to go back over to the opera house and take a look at the progress myself."

"As long as the visit will not make you want to interfere too badly," Armand countered. His tone was light, but Erik knew that he was meant to take the words as a warning.

"Of course. As long as everything is as it should be."

Armand leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms but made no direct reply. "And you have decided on a suitable schedule for the season?"

"I believe so. Faust and plenty of Wagner, which should please the board and will draw audiences should we tour in the spring. Some pieces less common for the company, too—Pagliacci, which will be a premiere for us but has been well-received elsewhere, Rigoletto, Le Nozze di Figaro. Nothing too revelatory for the board, I hope."

"I'm sure that will all be fine."

"I am also considering casting a new artist who I find very promising," he went on, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible, although he could already see Armand waiting to comment on the matter. "I believe she will be an important part of the company's future."

Armand looked hesitant, as Erik had expected. "The others have made it clear that they… strongly suggest sticking with more established artists. The general feeling is that we ought to minimize risk this season and focus on recovery."

"As musical director, I would consider it my duty to introduce new talent, wouldn't you agree? This young woman could very well prove to be a major asset. I find her promising enough that I have taken on training her myself."

Armand gave a careful nod of acknowledgment. "Knowing you as I do, that does speak highly of her skill. And I understand how important it is to seek out new talent and keep the company vibrant. But you say that this young woman is a new artist. What experience does she have?"

"She was a recent addition to the chorus." Erik hoped that that would not make it sound like she had never performed before, which was the truth, but Armand's brows shot up anyway.

"So she's inexperienced. And you want to cast her in a named role?"

"A lead role." He knew that the correction would not help his case, but he had to admit that he was getting some pleasure from watching Armand's reactions.

"A lead role," Armand echoed, considering his next words for a moment before speaking again. "Erik, I am well aware that I cannot sway you once your mind is made up. But you know how cautious the board is, and you know that they have perfectly good reason to be. There are still those who are watching for any reason to remove you from your current position. If I were you, I would put more consideration into ingratiating myself before attempting to sell them on another person."

"And how exactly would you recommend I go about ingratiating myself? I have done my best to make concessions to please the board, but I am not one to grovel, and I am growing tired of debasing myself and tempering my opinions to try to win over men who have had their minds closed against me from the very beginning." Erik spoke evenly but could not prevent a bit of bitterness from seeping into his words. "If my only purpose as musical director is to bend to the will of others, then why have you appointed me?"

"I understand your frustration," Armand said, although Erik was beginning to feel that the words rang a little less true each time he said them. "Believe me, I do, and I am not unsympathetic. But you must also recognize the great strides that you have made already. These men who you say are so firmly set against you would not have spared a glance in your direction a few years ago, and now they have given you a chance at a place of authority. Isn't it possible that, given some time and patience, they might come to accept you further if you just try to please them a little more now?"

"Perhaps," Erik allowed after a moment. "But it seems likely to me that their opinions of me are set, and I do not know what I could do to become more palatable to them without utterly demeaning myself."

He had expected a quick reply that only repeated the sentiments that Armand had expressed dozens of times before, but to his surprise, Armand seemed to actually give the statement consideration.

"I suppose a softer image could help. You do come off quite brusquely, you know."

"I am brusque. And if a potential career requires a complete change in personality, I might as well resign now."

"Then work on aligning yourself with the right people. Find people who will soften your image. Connect yourself to those who people cannot help but like. Maybe even find yourself a wife."

The last part was said in jest, and Erik snorted derisively. "What in the world could I possibly do to trap a charming young lady into marriage?"

Armand gave a half-amused, half-exasperated sigh. "All I am saying is that perhaps you should try to sway people a little more. Even if there are those in power who dislike you, there are also those who would be more open to you given the right circumstances. You know that I want to help you, Erik, but there is only so much that I can do."

Erik gave a begrudging nod, knowing that there was really nothing more to say about the matter. Everything would have to carry on as it was. He wouldn't be happy about it, but there was nothing else to be done. He'd never been an easy person to like, and since being left alone had always suited him perfectly well, he had never tried to be. The hardness, the stubbornness, the coolness, these had all be essential traits for so much of his life, and he had learned to hold onto them tightly like a protective barrier between him and the rest of the world. He had no intention of lowering that barrier, even now—it was just too risky. Unless he could devise another way to gain more favor, this was simply the way things were for now.

"As for the matter of casting," Armand went on. "I would strongly advise you to reconsider. If there is no changing your mind, I am certain that it will be a hard-fought battle to justify your decision and, to be frank with you, you may not emerge with your position intact."

The words sat heavily with Erik—more heavily than he would have admitted—even after Armand left. He would not put it past certain members of the board to use a single risky decision to remove him from his position, and surely championing Christine was not worth such a price. He would simply have to be patient. He would prove his skill and earn the begrudging respect of the men who looked down on him now, and then he would be able to do as he pleased. It would take time, but as much as the fact infuriated him, there was no way around it.

It was a relief when Christine arrived, providing him with a distraction from his thoughts. She greeted him with her usual smile when she came in, and again he noticed the earnest warmth in her expression and how it set him just a little more at ease, as if there was something about her that naturally settled everyone around her. The thought vaguely occurred to him that perhaps this would be a good quality to balance his natural prickliness, and although he refused to let the idea fully form in his mind, he could feel the seed of it sticking.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Mason." She still addressed him by his surname more often than not, despite insisting that he call her by her given name.

"Christine." He took his usual place at the piano, still trying to shake off the absurd idea pricking at the edge of his mind. Perhaps the first part of Armand's suggestion—that he align himself with someone who people could not help but like—had merit. The marriage part had been at least mostly a joke, but then again, he knew no one else who tolerated him as well as Christine seemed to, and she was certainly charming enough. Of course, there was a significant difference between tolerating someone as a teacher and tolerating someone as… He caught the thought before it could continue and forced it from his head. Everything about the idea was completely ridiculous, and it didn't deserve to be allowed to fully form.

"It's such a beautiful day out," Christine was saying as she removed her gloves and bonnet and placed them on one of the chairs opposite his desk. "It finally feels like summer is beginning."

Erik hummed distractedly in reply, trying to turn his attention fully to their lesson. If Christine noticed the thoughtful distance in his demeanor, she did not react to it; it was quite possible that, as far as she saw, this was no different from his usual coolness.

He watched her carefully through their lesson, more carefully than normal. She did cut quite a pretty figure: petite, bright eyes, her dark curls seeming perpetually on the verge of escaping their careful arrangement. He wasn't sure if he had ever noticed before how attractive she was. Her face shone like there was a permanent ray of sun fixed on her, and even when her lips pursed and her brow furrowed in concentration, there was a kind of charm about the expression. If anyone could make him seem more pleasant simply by proximity, it was probably her. If she grew cross with him during their lessons, she never let it show, even when he knew he was being more meticulous than necessary, and she did always seem happy enough to see him.

And of course that was because he was helping her. Most or all of her tolerance for him came from her desire to further her career, and he couldn't blame her for that. He certainly wouldn't flatter himself enough to think that she enjoyed spending time with him just for his company. But he supposed that an arrangement like the one he was very rashly beginning to imagine would allow them even more time to work together, thereby allowing her to improve more. That much could not be disagreeable to her. As for the rest… he couldn't imagine that she would find it appealing, but he could make it as unobjectionable for her as possible.

The idea had now fully taken root in his mind, very much in spite of himself and in spite of the many, many flaws he knew colored it. It was reckless and ill-advised at best. There was, however, a kind of strange giddiness at the thought of having this problem solved, having greater assurance that he could gain the favor he needed to secure his position indefinitely and have far greater freedom than he was allowed now. The feeling was enough to propel him forward despite the doubts he knew he should have.

When they had finished their lesson and Christine went to retrieve her things, Erik took a seat across the desk from her and motioned for her to do the same. "Miss Daae—"

"Christine," she corrected with a smile.

"Christine. If you wouldn't mind staying for another minute."

"Of course," she said quietly, perching on one of the armchairs, her brows knitting together slightly as she waited to hear what he had to say.

Erik's chest constricted and he took a breath to steady himself. This was terribly, terribly foolish. But he figured that he had nothing to lose. At worst she would refuse him and put an end to their lessons, and while he did want to continue working on her voice, it was not as important as the potential of what he could accomplish if this all went the way he imagined.

"Christine," he said again, glancing up at her but quickly looking away. Her name suddenly felt very odd on his lips. "I want to speak with you about a… a proposition of sorts. However, it is a rather delicate subject, about which I wish to speak frankly, and I do not want to offend you."

"I've never been one to offend easily," she replied. "Please be as frank as you wish."

Erik shifted in his seat. "I find myself in a position where it would be greatly beneficial to curate a more… palatable image for myself—I'm respected enough as an artist but not enough to be accepted as a peer of the gentlemen who make up the board of directors for the opera, and this could prove to be a hindrance to my career. After some consideration, I have concluded that there is a clear place to start, a step with immediate and significant effect: marriage."

Christine gave a slight nod, but it was only after another second that Erik saw understanding flash across her face. Even through her evident surprise, she seemed to grow thoughtful, and he decided to take it as a good sign that she did not immediately stand and bolt for the door.

"Such an arrangement would allow us to continue our lessons indefinitely; indeed it would allow us much more time to work together. You have found our lessons to your benefit, have you not?"

"Yes," Christine said faintly. "Yes, they have been very instructive."

"You would be comfortable and have whatever you desire," Erik continued. "You would be able to devote yourself entirely to your art rather than toiling at that department store. And, rest assured, the arrangement would be a marriage in name only. I would expect nothing from you—not even your time, outside of our lessons."

He paused, then, searching her expression for a hint at what she was thinking but finding that he couldn't quite read her. She sat still and straight, her eyes lowered, her hands folded neatly in her lap. When she said nothing, he spoke again, a little more cautiously as the reality of what he had just asked of her sank in.

"I hope I have not upset you."

"No," she replied quickly. "You have just given me something to think about. And, I must admit, it is not something that I was expecting."

"But you are… considering?" he ventured carefully, his breath catching when she nodded. It was a few seconds before he could find his voice again. "Well then. Please take your time thinking it over. I will take no offense if you refuse, and I will not withhold further training should you still wish to continue our lessons. But I do believe that such an arrangement would be beneficial for both of us."

She nodded again and looked up to meet his eyes, the directness and clarity of her gaze surprising him a little. "I will consider it."