Chapter Forty-One: Then His World Was Shattered...
Erik didn't know how long he knelt there on the balcony, weeping over the lifeless form of his love.
It felt like an eternity.
Gazing around numbly, he forced himself to rise, clutching Christine's body protectively to his chest.
Christine shouldn't be out here.
This was not a suitable resting place for the body of his precious coeur...
Making his way through the West Wing, he gently laid her down on his own bed, tenderly tucking a tendril of flame-colored hair back behind her ear.
A knock sounded on the door.
"Your Grace?" Madame Giry's voice sounded from the other side of the door.
"Is everything alright in there?"
"Leave me be," Erik choked out, his voice thick with tears.
The door opened and he heard a gasp.
"Oh, Your Highness..." her voice trailed off as she moved over to stand next to him, eyes filled with pity as she gazed down at the dead girl lying on the bed.
"What happened?"
"That bastard Vicomte shot her!" Erik snarled before breaking down into fresh tears.
"He killed her..."
Madame Giry patted his back gently.
"Erik would dearly love to kill him," he muttered darkly, "but unfortunately the Fop fell to his death right after murdering Erik's petit ange..."
Madame Giry sighed, but said nothing.
"Who is going to tell her father?" Erik muttered, his voice pained.
He let out an anguished sob, reaching forward to caress the redhead's pale, porcelain cheek.
"Oh, my Christine..."
A/N: Please review to unlock Chapter Forty-Two...