Chapter Thirteen: Pot, Meet Kettle...
Outside on one of the many balconies, a masked man with yellow eyes was arguing with himself over the situation as he paced back and forth.
"Oh, why did Erik let her stay here? Erik doesn't like guests! It was all very well and good before... ARRRGGGGHHHH!" he roared in frustration.
"But what if she can break the spell? Then everything would be back to the way it was before, and Erik and everyone else would be back to normal!"
Erik snorted mirthlessly.
"Oh, but she would have to be both blind and stupid to fall in love with Erik looking like this! Stop being a fool and face reality here!"
When he had had enough of pacing and ranting, he let out one last aggravated and tortured yell of frustration, and stormed back into the castle.
Storming through the halls and up to the tower dungeon where he had left the cause of his current torment, his temper flared anew.
How dare she cause such an uproar in the middle of his carefully planned day!
It was outrageous.
It took him 30 minutes to get all the way from his room in the West Wing to the tower dungeon where she was supposed to be, but he was still raging when he got there.
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" He demanded, before noticing that the tower was empty.
"André! Firmin! Get yourselves in here right now! And you had better be able to explain this to me or the both of you will be on chamber pot duty for a month!" he roared furiously.
Immediately, the two servants in question hopped into view and Erik gestured around the empty tower.
"WHERE. IS. THE GIRL?" he hissed murderously.
"We thought you might appreciate the company..." André stammered nervously.
Erik just snarled at him.
Quickly, Firmin jumped into the conversation.
"Master, I just wanted to assure you that I had no part in this reckless endeavor, honestly, giving her a suite in the East Wing..."
"You gave her a bedroom?" Erik interrupted sharply, his temper spiking again.
"No, no, no, he gave her a bedroom!" Firmin said quickly, glaring at André.
"That is true," André confessed sheepishly, "but, if this girl is really the one who will break the spell, then perhaps we chould start by using the new room, along with a nice candelit dinner, to charm her! Good thinking, Firmin!"
"What?" Firmin squawked indignantly.
"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!" Erik scoffed.
"Charm the prisoner...and even if I did, she is still the daughter of a common thief, what kind of person do you think that makes her?"
"Now you can't judge people by who their fathers are, now can you?" Madame Giry said, as she came into the room, accompanied by her two elder daughters, Marie and Elisabeth, who were now teacups, Marie having been thirteen years old and Elisabeth ten that fateful night.
Her youngest daughter, little Meg, a mere seven years of age at the time of the curse, was now a music box, placed high up on a lonely shelf in the bedroom that had been gifted to Christine.
She didn't need to say more, her loaded statement was clear enough.
All around her, the staff cringed, prepared for the master to retaliate.
But to their surprise, he didn't.
He paused for a moment, his eyes locked on Madame Giry.
After all, she knew better than anyone just how deep of a wound the master's father had left on him.
Finally, with a final grumble, Erik turned and left.
André, Firmin and Madame Giry exchanged panicked glances and then rushed after him, knowing that he couldn't be left to his own devices if he was going to ask the girl to dinner.
A/N: Please review to unlock Chapter Fourteen...