Christine woke with her head on Raoul's shoulder. The carriage was dark. She slowly lifted her head and saw that Raoul was sleeping, and one of his hands was entwined with hers. She wondered how far they had traveled. Their honeymoon was to take place at a lovely villa on the warm southern coast. She tried to open the lacy blinds on the carriage's window, but stopped, knowing the movement would wake up her husband. Her husband! A smile lit Christine's features as she tenderly looked over at the man whom she would share the rest of her life with. A fleeting thought of the Phantom and a gut-wrenching feeling of guilt followed. Christine frowned and looked away from Raoul. Why couldn't she ever be happy with her life? She had everything she ever wanted. If only she could forget about Erik...Christine lay her head back on Raoul's shoulder and scooted closer to him.
The cruel sound of gunshots wrenched Christine from her heavy sleep. She jumped up in her seat and nearly banged her head on the ceiling. Raoul reacted similarly. "What's going on?" she gasped. Raoul shoved the lacy curtains aside and swore. "God-damned bandits!" Christine tried to see out the window, but only saw the dark night sky and the shadowy outlines of the surrounding forest. Raoul quickly reached over and locked the carriage's doors. "Raoul, what do we do?" she whispered. "Why hasn't the driver or one of the servants in the caravan come to get us?"
The right side of the carriage suddenly banged. A coarse voice called, "And what have I found here? This fancy carriage looks like it'll hold the rich leader of this caravan." A chorus of raspy laughter followed his statement. Christine's eyes widened with horror and the right side of the carriage continued to be thumped. Raoul earnestly drew Christine close to him. "When I say "now," I need you to run out the secret door of the carriage and into the forest. You need to keep running, no matter what. Don't let any of these men find you." He reached into his pocked and pulled out a few wrinkled bills. "Here," he whispered, putting them into Christine's trembling hands. The banging on the carriage door grew more insistent. He dropped his mouth over Christine's, and they shared a frantic kiss. "I love you," he rasped.
"Raoul, no! You have to come with me!" she mumbled. He shook his head. "You'll have more of a chance without me, and I need to stay here to defend my servants. Perhaps I can offer these bandits a ransom and that will sate them." He took a deep breath, pressed another quick kiss to Christine's cheek, then cried, "Now!"
He shoved her next to the small door on the left side of the carriage. Christine fumbled with the tiny lock, then nearly fell out of the carriage. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she lifted her skirts and took off running into the dark forest. There was no moon to guide her way. Behind her, she could her the raucous shouts of the bandits as they tore into the carriage that her dear Raoul was sitting in. A few of the cruel men had noticed her escape and they had run as far as the edge of the forest, but none bothered to continue chasing her. Christine didn't stop running. She tripped over the hem of her travel gown, fell over roots of the massive trees, and cut her hands when she tried to stop her falls. Small branches cut her face. Still, she kept running. Christine couldn't stop thinking about Raoul, and how he had sacrificed himself once again for her sake. But would he live this time?
After long minutes of running, Christine finally slowed. She reached a large tree, and leaned against it, her lungs aching. It was so dark that Christine could barely see a few feet in front of her. She wondered how she could have ran so far. Even so, Christine knew she had to continue on. She couldn't allow herself to fall asleep in the forest. The soprano slowly picked up her skirts and resumed her travel, only she chose to walk instead of run.
The sky had lightened drastically before Christine had found a way out of the forest. Her body ached more than she had ever known it could. A small dirt path was the only thing that guided her, but after following it for about an hour, Christine stumbled into a small town. Her exhausted eyes scanned the outcropping of buildings until she found the local inn. She tripped up the stone steps and entered the smokey building.
"What's this?" A raspy, but kind-sounding voice asked. Christine wearily looked for the source, and saw only an old man polishing a wooden bar littered with empty glasses.. The checking-in room seemed to be more of a tavern. It was nearly empty, with the last of the previous night's drinkers slowly leaving.
Christine nearly fell against the bar, and quickly whispered, "Sir! We were attacked by bandits! I know not if my husband and our servants live! Are there any local constables I could alert?" Her exhaustion caused her words to slur together. The old man ruefully shook his head and chuckled.
"Looks like this pretty little maid has had too much to drink. You, having servants? I think not." He gestured to Christine's tattered travel gown. "Here. Drink this," he said, and handed her a steaming cup of coffee. Christine gratefully drank it. After she finished, she attempted to straighten her gown. "Monsieur, I wed the Victome de Chagny just last night. I realize my appearance may cause you to believe otherwise. But..."
Christine was at a loss for what to do. She showed the man her wedding ring, and he finally seemed to believe her claims. She deliberated over spending her meager funds to buy a horse and search for Raoul, or to go to Paris and wait for him to arrive...if he was still alive.
She had cried in the forest, but again she felt tears and hysteria rapidly approaching. Christine desperately wanted to lie down and sleep, but every minute she wasted could be another minute of Raoul's precious life draining away.
"Madame, I suggest you pay for a room and wait for your husband to arrive for you. This is the closest inn to the road you were traveling on. There is no other town for many miles, regardless of where you travel to. Paris is far away. Going to search for the Vicomte would be futile, and you would probably encounter bandits anyways." The inn-keeper's no-nonsense voice comforted Christine, and deep down, she knew his plan was the most reasonable. "Alright." she murmured, and used a few of the wrinkled bills Raoul had given her to pay for a room.
The room she was given had only a small bed, a plain table and chair, and a basin with a bowl and pitcher on it. Christine immediately stripped off her ripped traveling dress, and collapsed onto the bed wearing only her underclothes. She fell asleep the moment her head hit the flat pillows.
"Madame! Madame, your husband is here!" The inn-keeper pounded on the heavy door to Christine's rustic room. Christine tried to open her heavy eyelids and understand what he was saying. After he repeated himself another time, Christine jumped out of the hard bed and threw open the door. "Raoul!" She shouted, but the inn-keeper was the only man outside her door. "Where is he?" the soprano cried. "He's waiting for you outside, in your carriage. He wishes to leave immediately," he replied. "Oh." Christine mumbled. She was immensely glad Raoul was alive, but she was shocked that he hadn't come to see her. That was must unlike him. Still, the young Swede smiled. "I'm just glad he's alright." She ruefully looked down to her wrinkled underclothes. "I suppose I should get dressed. Monsieur, thank you for all the help." She closed the door and went over to the bowl. After she had washed her face, she put her tattered dress back on and left the inn. It was dusk outside, so Christine assumed that she had slept through the whole day. The few buildings around the inn were deathly silent. The quaint town appeared to be completely empty, except for the lone black carriage waiting for her. Christine shivered at the eery atmosphere, and focused on the carriage. It was elegant, but completely nondescript, lacking the usual de Chagny coat of arms and splendor that Raoul's carriages usually had.
A servant she wasn't familiar with helped her into the carriage and gave her a friendly smile. "It's good to see you well, Mademoiselle Daae," he said kindly. "Mademoiselle Daae?" Christine asked with confusion. "Why are you calling me that? I'm Madame de Chagny." The servant only grinned at her. "I won't tell Raoul," Christine whispered, deciding to just brush off the servant's actions as a joke. She gave him a small smile, then finally entered the carriage. It was dim. She could barely make out Raoul's body across from her, nestled in the corner of the carriage. She wanted to leap into his arms, then realized he was probably sleeping. That was why he hadn't come inside the inn for her, or why he hadn't come running to embrace her. Feeling more comfortable, she settled into the velvety seat as the carriage took off at a brisk pace. She watched the trees blur by as the sun continued to set. When there was barely any light, Raoul began to stir. Christine immediately looked over to him, excited to watch him open his lovely blue eyes. He moved out of the shadows.
A white porcelain mask flashed at her through the darkness. "Christine..." he murmured, his voice beautiful. She sat completely still, the shock making her heart pound and her face pale.
"Erik."