Sweet Seduction

Chapter Eighteen: What a Blessed Release

A/N: Oh my gosh, I forgot the shout out last chap! Eek, so sorry. Ahem

The one-hundreth reviewer was...candybaby92! Congrats and thanks for reviewing! And thanks goes out to all my other absolutley wonderful reviewers too for their reviews. ;)

Okay, I'll stop blabbering. Here's the update:

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Christine walked around excitedly, humming "Masquerade" to herself as she moved about the opera House's ballroom. It had been only four days since she and Erik had returned from their honeymoon. And oh, what a wonderful honeymoon it was! They traveled to countries all over Europe. They had spent a week going to Spain and Italy, tasting all the rich, exotic foods, even making their own wine in one of the numerous vineyards in Italy and they went to lots of sightseeing attractions like museums and concert halls, a few operas and even a Spanish bull fight. They spent another week in Rome and Erik had taken Christine to lots of the ancient coliseums and judicial houses, and they had spent a wonderful evening at Ttrevi Fountains, kissing under the starlight and spraying mist. From there they went to Ireland and Christine still laughed at the memory of her and Erik awkwardly trying to do an Irish "jig" at a local tavern when they were both extremely inebriated. Although it had been sort of romantic in a strange, comical way. After Ireland, they spent a brief stay in Holland, where they had seen all the windmills in the city and picked tulips like every other traveler to press and preserve them, and Erik had even managed to (messily) braid a few into a crown which Christine wore the rest of the day. Finally, before returning to Paris, Erik took Christine to Sweden for a few days as a surprise. There they attended a service at the old church Christine used to go to, visited with some of her old friends and neighbors to reminisce and introduce her new husband and of course, visited her father's grave before the two day journey by carriage back to Paris.

Two weeks may have seemed like a long time for a honeymoon, but not every day was spent productively sightseeing and enjoying the area. Some days Erik and Christine had gotten up earlier and had every intention of keeping an itinerary, but they were young and in love and on their honeymoon in a foreign country, and some days they found their bedroom was a bit more exciting than experiencing the local culture. Of course, they did eventually go out to do some activity on those days, like a very late lunch or wander around, but they both were perfectly happy no matter what pleasure they were engaging in. And of course, they'd brought home plenty of souvenirs for themselves and their friends. Christine had bought all sorts of extraneous dresses in bright colors with shorter skirts and stripped petticoats, lacy, soft shoes and boots, plenty of those new photograph cards and lots of exotic flowers, bottles of scent and tiny figurines. And Erik had gorged himself on many new, exotic instruments he was determined to learn to play and dozens of pages of sheet music and librettos from foreign Italian and Spanish operas, like that new scandalous one Carmen. He had gathered a few little trinkets too, nothing that extravagant, for the honeymoon itself was the greatest treasure he could ask for.

Of course, there had been a few downsides to it. Like having money converted from francs to pesos to lilas and so on. And, on a few occasions, people hadn't been very open-minded about Erik's mask. A few people in the various plazas and public places they'd visited had the nerve to hiss or jeer at him, and a few even covered their eyes or the eyes of their children. He certainly couldn't forget that night he and Christine tried to get into a Spanish restaurant only to have the owner tell them "Ninguana admission por diablo mascara" "No admission for masked devils", since Spanish culture influenced the belief that people wore masks to contain the devils within them, hence the tradition of All Hallow's Eve where evil spirits wore masks to disguise themselves. Well, Christine couldn't speak Spanish, but before Erik could translate or say a word she had talked the restaurant owner's ear off in a mixture of English, a few various Spanish phrases (and curses) and furious gestures and stormed out of the lobby dragging Erik behind her, red faced and lips drawn, furious at the ignorance of the restaurant owner and Spain in general. Erik somehow, found he could only smile at how angry she was. He would never have believed a year ago that today he would be in Spain, with a wonderful wife, on their honeymoon, to be denied entrance somewhere because of his mask and have his wife stand up for him. A lot could happen in a year. Other than a few minor occurrences like that, the honeymoon had been wonderful, full of excitement and fun and wonderful romance..

"Erik" Georges said, nudging him back into the present "I believe your wife is ready for the ball" he said, motioning to Christine waltzing around the ballroom, humming to herself. Erik smiled. It was December thirtieth and the Masquerade Ball was tomorrow. The ballroom was almost ready, undergoing some last minute decorations and changes. Christine and Erik had dropped by only to find they were needed there for the rest of the day before the ball. The entire room was nearly empty, except for him, Georges, Christine and two workers. The place was almost finished, and a big red ribbon had been tied around the grand staircase for tomorrow's grand re-opening. Erik and Georges would cut the ribbon, of course, and Christine would be singing a short, festive aria to begin the ball. It looked like she was practicing a bit already, dancing with an imaginary partner across the ballroom with her eyes closed.

Erik grinned "She's ready all right. Georges, if you would excuse me" Erik said, dumping his clipboard and various books into a nearby chair, then smoothly coming over to Christine. He swiftly took her hand and grabbed her waist, pulling her closer to him as he began leading her in a waltz around the ballroom. Her eyes fluttered open in surprise and she smiled upon seeing who her partner was

"Oh, I see the Phantom can dance too" she giggled

"My dear, you know I'm a man of many talents" he said smoothly, twirling her about and watching her effortlessly fall back into step.

"The ballroom looks beautiful already Erik. You and Georges did a fantastic job"

"Christine, we didn't actually do any of this, we merely planned it. The staff did all the work."

"Which is basically the story of your life" she pointed out

He chuckled "I suppose it is."

"So, what's the color theme this year?" she asked conversationally

"White, black and red" he answered quickly

"What's the red for?" she asked. Normally colors for a masque that weren't for a holiday were simply white and black, occasionally allowing silver and gold for special occasions.

"Well" he began, spinning her around the dance floor "The white's for purity and innocence, goodness light and black is the exact opposite of that: wickedness, darkness, mystery, secrets. They are opposites, so it compliments the-"

"Erik" she said sighing exasperatedly "I know all of this already. I asked you what the red is for"

He dipped her down gently "The red my dear" he growled in a love voice "is for passion"

She sighed as he lifted her back up and began trailing soft kisses down her neck. She gently stroked the outline of his mask

"Well, for once you can just blend in, thank goodness. Unless..." she said suspiciously

"Unless what?"

"Unless you're planning another grand entrance like you made last year"

He smiled at the memory of it

"Yes, that was rather extravagant, wasn't it? Oh, that was a great ball" he said

She rolled her eyes at the memory of it. Frightening half of France, the managers, her finance and herself and entering in a red death costume was a strange idea of a "great ball"

"In fact" he continued "I might even wear the same suit. I still have it you know"

She burst out laughing "You wouldn't!"

"I would"

"Don't you dare"

He grinned wickedly, twirling her around until they were hidden from sight behind a pillar, where he began kissing her vehemently "Like I said earlier my dear" he said "Red is for passion"

Georges sighed nostalgically, seeing the two lovers waltzing around the ballroom. They were so happy together, so deeply in love. It made him miss his dear, departed Annabelle all the more. She had died almost ten years ago, from the cancer and Georges couldn't do anything to stop it except sit idly by, watching the pain consume her as she faded away. Her last wish was that he would love someone else in his life and marry again once she was gone. At the time, it almost seemed treacherous to promise her that, but he couldn't deny his wife her dying wish. And ten years had rolled by slowly. Well, things were starting to pick up since his new job. Erik and Jacques certainly were great friends, even if Erik was sometimes bit quiet and mysterious. The man never revealed anything about him, other than his love for his wife and music. Well, Georges could certainly identify with that. He adored finally having a job in music for once. And Georges had been paying more attention to Marie Giry, ever since they both danced at Erik's wedding. He wouldn't bring himself to admit he may have an attraction towards her. She was certainly the complete opposite of anything his Annabelle was with her strict manner and brisk speech and strong presence. Still, maybe his surprise for her tomorrow at the ball would impress her. After all, you were never too old to find true love
On the other side of town, Raoul de Changy crept silently through the night, his silence and stealth almost comparable to that of his rival's. Those asylum workers were idiots, leaving the kitchen door unlocked and unguarded for once, though it had benefited him immensely. He had been plotting his escape for quite some time now, and it was finally time to exert some vengeance on that blasted Phantom and win his sweetheart back. His timing was opportune too. He had seen a flier yesterday that had been mistakenly left in the common area for a Masque at the Paris Opera House "Come celebrate our grand re-opening with all of Paris at this preview of the newly furnished Opera House and Masquerade Ball!" it beckoned. Raoul finally put his plan into action this evening. Swiping some asylum employee's clothes from the laundry basket, his remaining money and few possessions and he had set off in the night in a race to Paris. Hopefully by tomorrow, he could finally win the woman that was rightfully his. And all he needed was a mask...