Hello everyone, I am so very sorry that it took me this long to get this chapter out. I kept re-working it and re-working it and it just wouldn't cooperate with me.
-sighs-
I am in terrible need of a muse but until then I already have a plan for the next chapter so wish me luck!
I apologize for the shortness of this chapter as well...
Charles shifted from one foot to the other, chewing the inside of his mouth anxiously, as he glanced at his pocket watch once again. His heart sunk when he saw that ten minutes had already passed from the end of the opera; James was going to be furious with him for wasting time that should have been spent working.
It had been two weeks since the first lesson and over that time Charles had been slipping away from his parents as often as possible to meet with James in his secret room.
And the lessons were far from easy. James had not been kidding around when he had warned Charles that he would accept nothing more than perfection from him. There were times that they would run over the same line in a piece over a dozen times or more, just because he was one note off.
But Charles refused to let the strict method of teaching grate upon his nerves for he would allow nothing to deter him from perfecting his voice. And besides, he was already able to hear a shocking amount of progress in his voice.
Charles would much prefer to be with James in the dark seclusion of the private room but he was standing backstage instead, surrounded by the noise of senseless chatter and twinkling laughter.
Before Charles wouldn't have minded being in a place like this but the longer he spent with James, the more his irritation for these kinds of events increased.
It was just another ridiculous party filled with people who wanted nothing more then a place to flaunt their wealth and perhaps find someone to keep them company for the night.
Normally Charles would have already made his escape by now, but his parents were keeping an annoyingly close watch on him tonight.
He couldn't stop himself from groaning as his eyes darted around, trying to find some sort of an exit that he could disappear through.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand came down on his shoulder and he whirled around to see who had touched him, only to relax instantly when he saw that it was only Madame Giry.
"Hello, madame," He said. "Is there something you need?"
"Indeed there is," Madame Giry said. Her eyes shot around them for a brief second, making sure that no one was listening in, before leaning in close so that Charles was the only one able to hear her words. "I have come to bring you to James. He figured that you were probably tied up here so he sent me to fetch you."
Charles could do little more then blink at her in amazement for a few moments and then he laughed to himself. "Figures he would have done something like this," He said. "I'm sorry that you have to be bothered with this, madame."
"Oh, there is no need for concern," Madame Giry said, a small smile dawning on her lips. "I rather enjoy helping him; especially in matters concerning his relationship with you. It has done the poor boy good to be with you."
Charles felt his cheeks flush with heat and he did his best to force away the blush that he was certain was staining his cheeks.
He took the hand that Madame Giry offered, allowing her to lead him deftly through the crowds, towards the end of the wings.
She stopped there, releasing his hand from her hold. "This is the farthest I know to go," She said. "I trust you know the rest of the way."
Charles nodded and thanked her for her assistance before heading down the rest of the way to where he knew that there would be a secret door, behind which a certain boy would be waiting for him.
Christine wrung her hands together anxiously as she moved down the darkened hallway. She was certain that she had seen Charles head down it after he had parted from Madame Giry, but she had not seen him yet and it was beginning to worry her.
As it happened, her son had been causing her a great deal of concern lately.
She could tell that Charles thought that he was getting away with his constant absences from the after performance parties, but she had noticed and it was starting to concern her as to where he was going instead of the parties.
So, when she had seen Madame Giry leading Charles away from the party she had decided to follow them but now she wasn't sure if that had been the wisest decision, seeing she didn't have the slightest idea where to go from here.
Christine stopped walking with a sigh, deciding that it would be wise to stop for a moment and try to decide what to do now.
It was then, as she stood there in that dim little hall, that she heard it.
At first it was so soft that she was unsure whether she was truly hearing it, but then it slowly began to grow in volume and she knew that it was really there.
There was a voice, risen in harmony with the flawless twinkling notes of a piano. The voice was that of a tenor's and filled with such a sweet, innocent beauty that it made Christine's heart ache.
She recognized the song with little effort at all, it was from an Italian opera by the name of Don Giovanni, and she could easily translate the words to gain the meaning of the song.
"Ah, dear heart do not upbraid me
Ah, believe me I love only you
I shall smile again with you to aid me
You must know my heart is true
You should know my heart is true."
Another voice could suddenly be heard, rising up to join the first, and Christine felt shivers running down her skin at the sound of it. And to think that she had thought the first voice to be beautiful. This new voice was unlike anything she had ever heard; it was like music itself—there was no other way to describe it. And when it joined with the other voice…the product was unimaginably stunning.
"Love must wait till the morrow
Love must wait upon my sorrow
Love must wait upon my sorrow
Until the morrow
Ah, dear heart do not upbraid me
Ah, believe me
My heart is true!"
The music was fading away now, and Christine was surprised to discover that her cheeks were wet with tears.
Her senses seemed awfully muffled, making it hard for to concentrate on anything. It was though the music had placed her under a trance that refused to be lifted.
A part of her, buried in the recesses of her mind, cried out in warning that she would should run before the music began again, reminding of her of what had happened the last time she had let music such as this hold such a powerful sway over her.
But that part of her was far too small for her to pay any heed to it and she found herself sinking to her knees, longing for the music to come to her again.
She did not have long to wait until she could hear the notes of the piano picking up again and the sweet tenor voice rising to join with it.
It was a jaunty French song with this time and her mind groggily registered as the Flower Song from Faust before she leaned her head against the wall, a contented smile growing on her lips as she closed her eyes, letting the music overcome her.
Eek, whatever shall become of Christine? Poor dear, the music quite overwhelmed her.
And the song that James and Charles are singing is indeed from the opera Don Giovanni, and its called Ah, Dear Heart. It isn't orginally a duet but I turned it into one because I thought that it suited the story better. Sadly enough though, the song is actually sung by the female lead. It seems as if fate is trying to make Charles seem even more feminine than his looks already make him...I would feel more sorry for him if it wasn't so funny...
Your always faithful (even though her chapter updates shall always remain unpredicatable) author,
Redluna