- - - A month later - - -
The lessons became more and more demanding for Christine, her unknown teacher seeming to be growing quite curt. He stopped her at every mistake, even the tiniest of flukes in pitch, and made her restart the whole warm-up or piece. On the occasions when she would have a trouble spot, and his short temper was difficult to control, her teacher began to shout. It became difficult for Christine not to cry at some of his insults and begged for them to stop, only resulting in further scolding.
"Angel, this part is difficult for me to hold out for that long and at such a volume. Are there no exercises to help me? Your reprimands aren't helping." She pleaded.
"I am doubting your dedication, Christine. Have all these years been all for naught?!"
"Never, Angel! I'm only tired from the ballet rehearsal and not willing to be put-down once more today."
She could hear his sigh echo in the walls before he relaxed: "Sing the beginning of the aria and take a large breath before the challenging line. You must feel the expressions of each section and allow that to give you more energy to finish that note."
Christine obeyed, fearfully testing out the waters, so to speak, applying various feelings to the song as she sang. Her confidence grew as she continued the song without being stopped by her demanding instructor. The final line came, making his suggestions come to mind just as she opened her mouth to sing the last note. This time, she only cut it off briefly but the note rang out much louder than it had previously.
"That was better. Learn more of the character singing this piece and you'll find it easier to express her feelings." Her Angel commented.
"Thank you, monsieur. But I don't think I have a story of this opera, and I'd rather not raise the suspicion of others by asking for it from someone."
"I shall leave a copy on your nightstand for you to read tomorrow, as we won't have a lesson then. You likely won't finish the story by Monday, but you should still have a better idea-"
"Oh, I could definitely finish the story by then. I love to read."
"Very well, then I expect nothing but excellence on Monday. You are dismissed."
"Thank you, Angel." She bowed her head lightly, departing the small chapel and going up to her chamber.
Erik sighed, knowing he'd been a bit too strict yet again. But he felt that he had to be, his student wouldn't improve without his scolding and he might do something rash if he was being to soft with her. Ever since that night of the gala, Christine appeared to stand before him in a different light and he no longer trusted himself to be too kind to her.
Seeing her lips turn up the slightest bit into a smile made his chest tighten. If Erik had such a massive reaction to a tiny action, then there was no doubt that he wouldn't be able to handle something bigger. He needed to distance himself from the girl a bit. The only way he knew to do so was to be slightly unkind to the wonderful girl. He told the Daroga of his dilemma, feeling so bad for her having to deal with his awful temper.
"You shouldn't take your frustration out on the poor girl! Especially since you aim to make yourself likeable to her, not frighten her away." The Persian pointed out.
"I am well aware. But what would you suggest doing in my position, oh wise one?" Erik snapped.
"Don't you remember what I told you all that time ago? I advised you to stay away from her completely."
"And take away the one hope she had of her passed father?"
"Life is full of difficult decisions, my friend. As for the present, you must treat her nicely and not lose control. Of your temper and of your self-control."
"As if I don't know of difficulties?! My entire life has consisted of difficult people, difficult situations, and difficult places. I have plenty of self-control and I deserve to be allotted incontinence of my short patience."
"Perhaps. But the girl doesn't know a thing about you. In fact, she only knows for certain that you are not an angel."
"That's enough. I'm not revealing my identity to Christine, Daroga."
"Very well, but I've advised you as best as I am able. Please just don't do anything extreme." The Persian said just before leaving his musical friend alone in his lair.
Erik sighed, knowing the older man was correct but not willing to admit it. It would be quite late if he left now, but the masked man wasn't going to go anywhere in the daylight of tomorrow. He would attempt to apologize for his behavior in some way, and he couldn't possibly wait until their next lesson to do so.
- - - The next morning - - -
The curly-haired brunette woke up after a good night's rest, feeling glad to only have rehearsals in the afternoon instead of practically all day. Stretching and yawning in the sunlight streaming in through her window, Christine noticed the presence of a few new objects residing on her nightstand. She remembered her instructor said he would leave a book for her, although there were two things beside it. One was a small bouquet of lilacs and irises while the other was a handwritten note. Her blue eyes immediately flicked to the bottom of the page, noticing that this was indeed from her strict teacher.
The note read:
Christine-
I must apologize for my recent harsh behavior during the lessons- I only wish for you to excel and not to inflate your perception of your gift. Your skills have truly improved several times over throughout the years and they will continue to do so if you still dedicate yourself. My hope, with this note, is for you to pardon me as well as to enjoy the book and flowers. Though I am no sentimental soul, the latter carry some symbolism: white lilacs for innocence and the irises for faith (though they are meant to symbolize the connection between heaven and earth, being named after the rainbow goddess).
Excuse me once again,
Your Angel
The young girl felt flattered, taking the flowers in-hand and searching for a glass of water to place them into. She would begin reading his book after breakfast, trying to get through as much of it as possible before the ballet rehearsals would begin for Handel's Farramondo. The theatre had lost a few of its top performers, leaving them to stage a smaller-cast opera rather than a large production. The Populaire's director seemed peeved at the loss of cast members, saying something about an important man being unhappy with their lack of talent.
Unable to find a glass of water nearby, Christine found a few blank pages of her teacher's book and arranged the flowers carefully inside before pushing the cover down. Hopefully the Angel wouldn't mind them pressed and preserved into the book he'd lent her, as she had no other way of keeping them in decent condition.
Soon, she heard Meg coming across the hall towards her doorway and Christine stashed the items from her teacher in order not to raise questions in her talkative friend. The two friends greeted each other and went downstairs for breakfast, chatting a bit before heading back to prepare for the practice they'd soon have with Meg's mother. Christine took the time to read and decided to change clothes only at the last minute prior to heading onstage.