My dear readers, I have returned to you and bring a new chapter. Before I start, I noticed that there were a few things that I did not explain in the last chapter, namely the difference between "cantatrice" and "chanteuse". A cantatrice is a professional singer who usually sings classical music, while a "chanteuse" can be everyone, even someone who sounds more like a dying whale at a karaoke.
Furthermore, I would like to thank Leona and Sg-pix (and all of my other sweet reviewers) for their kind review. I am very happy that you like my story! I will do my very best not to disappoint you. This chapter is especially for you!
To Kirsi: I know that my Raoul is OOC when you compare him to Leroux's original novel, but so are Madame Giry and little Meg. The situation in which Raoul and Erik grew up is also different in my version. This is the twist I decided to give to it, no matter how cliché it might be. I tried to imagine how the story would have gone, if so many factors had changed. I do hope that you will still enjoy reading the rest of my story, though, and I am very pleased that you took the time to review.
But now: let's get on with the story!
Erik's POV
I was sitting at my piano, when I my thinking was interrupted by a tentative knock on the door. I could feel the perspiration beneath my mask, but I had no time left to take it off and wipe my face. Oh god, she was there! It felt as if I had been waiting for an eternity for her arrival.
Nervous are we? If only you could see yourself like this…
I straightened my back and answered seemingly calmly:
"Come in."
I heard the door open behind me and turned to greet Christine, only to be greeted by Angélique. Scowling, I turned back to the opened score before me.
"Oh, it's you."
"Yes, it's me. Expecting someone else?"
I could just sense the smirk on her face!
"What do you want?" The sooner she left, the sooner I would be able to have my lesson with Christine. What was taking her so long!
"Nothing out of the ordinary. I wanted to ask you when you would like to take your tea, since she will be here at your usual hour."
"I'll take it afterwards. Bring her some too then. Was that all?"
She straitened her black dress and chuckled.
"My, my we are grumpy today. Now tell me, how long have you been sitting there like this, waiting?"
I crossed my arms and stared stubbornly at the piano keys in front of me. Why wouldn't she just leave? Did she live for wheedling the truth out of me? Apparently she did, for she seemed to refuse leaving me in peace before I told her what she wanted to know.
"Since this morning."
"This morning? Did you not arrange to meet her at about three o'clock?", she sounded incredulous.
"Yes, this morning! And yes, I told her to meet me then, but that does not mean that she could not have arrived early", I growled. I was starting to feel very annoyed now.
"More than five hours early?"
I glared.
She held her hands up in an apologetic gesture and smiled softly. I sighed. I could never stay angry for long with her. She had been there for me when I needed her most.
"I know you are right, but…"
Somebody had knocked on the door! I practically jumped from the piano bench.
"She's here!"
Angelique raised her brow.
"I absolutely did not notice that. Now sit down, I'll open the door, time I take my leave anyway."
I sat back down, righted the score in front of me for about the twentieth time and composed myself. I only turned after I heard the closing of the door. Christine was standing at the door, looking nervous and fidgeting with the long sleeves of her light brown dress. And suddenly, I felt completely at ease.
"Come over here, Mademoiselle. How has your day been this far? The weather has been quite nice, has it not?"
She shuffled closer, blushing furiously, shoulders slumped. We will have to work on that…
"Good, Monsieur le Comte. I was not expecting such a beautiful day again before spring."
I nodded and motioned for her to take place at the curve of the piano.
"Very well. Have you been practicing your voice exercises?"
The answer to this question was very important. If she had not, she lacked the persistence she would need for our future lessons. Every instrument needs to be maintained. I felt relieved when she nodded vigorously.
"Then let us begin. When we are alone between these walls, you will address me as maestro. Now, repeat after me "freundlich, fraulich, fröhlich".
I cringed, when she did so.
"No! Stand up straight, one foot slightly in front of the other. Not like that, now you look like a soldier waiting for orders. Relax, but stand straight. Yes exactly like that! Now stay that way."
She looked at me with wide eyes as if I had suddenly turned into Cerberus, ready to bite her head off.
"Your pitch was almost perfect, but we will need to work on your German pronunciation for quite a while. Do you know what you are singing, Mademoiselle?"
"No, Maestro", she answered, looking at the ground again.
"Posture, Mademoiselle."
She straightened suddenly, a puppeteer pulling on invisible strings.
"You are singing "friendly, womanly, gay". Keep the meaning in mind, you looked like were playng a part in a Greek tragedy. No, don't smile, you will distort your vowels, just feel the difference. Again!"
She was looking confused, but I left her no time to question my order and made her repeat the exercise until I was pleased with her progress.
"Better. Did you hear the difference yourself? Your voice sounded a lot warmer now, than the first time. We will keep working on the pronunciation. You will have to able to sing in more languages than French. Some of the best arias and songs have been written in German, Italian or English. We will now proceed with your aria."
About an hour and what felt like countless orders later, I ended our first lesson and led her to my desk, where I pulled her chair out before I proceeded to my side. Almost immediately after we sat down, Angélique knocked on the door and entered with the tea tray. She placed it between us and hurried out without saying a word. Subtle…
Christine had followed her with her eyes and started to fidget again, after her departure. She seemed almost reluctant to look my way. The silence became oppressing and I searched for something to say. My eye landed on the tray.
"How would you like your tea, Mademoiselle?"
Her eyes flickered upwards, then went down again just as fast.
"Just some sugar please."
I frowned behind my mask. As far as I had noticed, she was very fond of milk. I once saw her drink several cups in the morning, when I passed by the kitchen on my way to the stables.
"No milk or cream?", I blurted out.
"No thank you, Monsieur."
Who was I to tell her how to drink her tea. I poured her a cup, added a spoon of sugar and placed it in front of her. She was looking at her lap again.
For our next lesson, you will practice Pergolesi again. Remember to stand correct, to open your mouth wide enough at the a's and to practice your pronunciation. Also try to put some emotion in the song, technique without emotion is not music."
She was looking at me with wide eyes. Had I said something strange? I did not believe so.
"Next lesson?", she asked, barely loud enough to hear.
"Yes, I believe you should be free on Thursday, if I am not mistaken. We will have to practice more often if you want to continue to improve", I answered. Did she lack the perseverance after all?
"But I thought I was horrible." She was looking at me now with her big blue eyes, confused.
Had I been drinking my tea, I would have probably choked on it.
"Why would you think that?" I didn't understand, she had already improved in this one lesson. She had become more conscious of her posture and minded her pronunciation. Now she was looking down, again, and fidgeted.
"You… well… uhm…"
I sighed.
"Yes, Mademoiselle?" Just tell me what is wrong, I cannot help if I do not know it.
"Well, you did not seem too pleased with me during the lesson, Monsieur."
What was that supposed to mean? I did not seem pleased? What had I done wrong? I had only been… Ah.
"Mademoiselle, would you please look at me?"
Her gaze met mine.
"My being strict during the lesson does not mean that you are doing badly, I simply want to prevent you developing any disadvantageous habits. You will have to get used to it, I am afraid."
She looked a bit relieved and a rosy hue had spread over her cheeks.
"So, I did not mess up?"
Beneath my mask, a smile was tugging at the corner of my lips.
"No Mademoiselle, you did not", I answered truthfully.
And she smiled. A genuine smile!
She took her cup and sipped from it, then gently placed it back on the saucer. I had never before noticed just how small her wrists were. The looked almost breakable. I averted my gaze as she spoke again.
"Maestro, could you tell me what the song is about?", she sipped her tea again.
I would need to work on her understanding of foreign languages, but now was not the time.
"A man's beloved has not woken up for three days and he is slowly getting desperate. In the song he bags her to wake up and return to him."
She looked at the now empty cup in front of her.
I took my pocket watch from my pocket and checked the time. I sighed.
"You should go now, Mademoiselle, supper will be ready soon. I expect you at our next lesson on Thursday."
She quickly rose from her chair as I did the same and walked to the door. Before it closed behind her, she curtsied and said: "Until then, Monsieur."
After her departure, I locked the door and took of my mask. The skin of my face needed a chance to breathe before Clémaine would arrive with supper. I sat back down and looked at the now cold cup of tea I had been unable to drink from. It seemed like I would need to get used to that. But I would see her again on Thursday. I sipped from my cup and grimaced.
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Did I do well?
All my love,
LoreLorelei