AN: A touch early, but you'd rather an early update than a late one, right guys?

This is it! The last official update before the kindle/paperback release! Who's excited for the release?

On Friday I will post an extra special bonus update including all the information you'll need in order to procure your very own copy of Forgotten Melodies!

(No, this does not mean updates will stop! I will be uploading the entirety of Forgotten Melodies on the standard Wednesday/Saturday upload schedule)

Why should I need a governess? I'm thirteen years old! At my age, Philippe was already running the household! Raoul's thoughts were far stormier than the bright, sunny day that found him and his governess walking through the streets of Perros.

"We mustn't stay out too late," his governess said quietly as they turned to head toward the beach. "Your brother said—"

"My brother says a lot of things," Raoul replied with a shrug of his shoulders, "that doesn't mean I have to listen to him."

"Raoul," the woman shook her head and sighed.

"What?" he asked, only half listening to her at this point. He knew where this was going. Listen to your brother, he thought, he just wants what's best for you. It hasn't been easy for him to raise you. He gave up a large part of his life to keep you safe.

"He just wants what's best for you," his governess said, and Raoul tuned her out completely. It was far too early in the day to listen to the same lecture he seemed to get multiple times per day lately.

"I don't understand why he even brought me here in the first place," he said suddenly, cutting her off midsentence. "He's been in meetings and on ships the entire summer so far. I've seen him all of twice. Why couldn't I stay home?"

"He wants to spend time with you. He wants to know you." The woman's words were hollow and Raoul doubted whether she even believed them.

"Does he stare at me while I sleep and read my mind?" he asked, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Do we have long talks while I sleepwalk? Pray tell, Bernadette, how does he expect to know me if he leaves me with you all day?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes when he saw the hurt in hers.

"We really must be getting back. You're not dressed for—" Raoul held his hand up to silence her as they approached the beach. He heard someone cry out as a piece of fabric was picked up by the wind and blown out into the water. "Raoul, no!"

His governess' cry fell on deaf ears as the boy bolted down to the beach, where he found a girl struggling to chase after a scarf.

"I shall retrieve it for you!" Raoul called as he loosened the collar of his shirt. His heart was pounding as he dove into the surf. As he swam out into the sea, he could hear his governess crying out in protestation.

He couldn't help but grin as his fingers grasped the slippery fabric of the girl's scarf. He took it and stuffed it down his shirt as he turned to swim back toward the shore.

The look on the girl's face was one of such joy when he staggered across the sand back to her and held out her scarf that he would gladly have swam out even further to retrieve it for her. He almost wanted the wind to snatch the scarf out of her outstretched hands so he'd have to retrieve it a second time.

"I believe this is yours," he said, flashing her a toothy grin. The girl took it from his hands, staring up at him with wide eyes filled with amazement.

"Thank you," she said as she clutched the scarf close to her chest. He fought back an amused chuckle as she fumbled her way through a low curtsey. He could hear his governess stomping across the sand now; it wouldn't be long before she was right on top of them.

"When I heard you cry out, I knew I had to help," he said. Is she blushing?

"Raoul!" Bernadette hissed. "We must go!" He sighed and turned to follow her, unwilling to leave the girl.

"I'd rather stay and swim," he whined as his governess led him through the crowd, fuming unintelligibly and throwing her arms up to accentuate her words. He was not looking forward to the lecture he was going to get from his brother.

"You're soaking wet and now you're going to be late getting ready. Your brother is going to fire me."

"Fire you?" Raoul scoffed. "You've been my governess for six years. He isn't going to want to hire a new one. He'll just yell. He does that all the time."

"You just don't understand, Raoul." His governess wanted to say more, but they were already at the front door of the de Chagny summer home, and with Philippe no where in sight she wanted to get Raoul dried off and changed as quickly as possible. "Go and get changed," she said. "Your brother will return any minute."

"Fine," Raoul said as he stomped up the stairs and down the hall to his room. The door to Philippe's room hung ajar ever so slightly, piquing the boy's interest. But with Bernadette glaring at him from the landing, he didn't dare pause to peek.

He slammed the door behind him, a final act of defiance before Bernadette would sic his brother on him. Out in the hall, he heard Bernadette groan in frustration. If Philippe would just get it through his head that I'm grown up! I don't need a governess any longer!

He peeled his wet clothes off and threw them haphazardly across the floor, delighting in the heavy wet splat of water-laden cloth hitting the hardwood floor. He heard an even louder groan of frustration from out in the hallway at that sound.

Once he had a fresh pair of pants on and had slipped his arms into a fresh shirt, he turned to look at himself in the mirror and grinned a huge, toothy grin at his reflection. He fancied himself a fairly attractive, if a bit thin, young man. Not at all like his older brother, whose age weighed heavily on his face.

"Quickly, Raoul," Bernadette called through the door. "Your brother's carriage has just arrived."

"Do you want me dressed or not?" Raoul demanded, annoyed, as he buttoned his shirt up. He exited the room while still fighting to tuck his shirt in and was promptly stopped by Bernadette, who fixed his collar and finished tucking his shirt in for him. He grimaced.

"I don't know why you insist on treating me like a baby," he groaned as she straightened his collar.

"Well, if you'd stop acting like one," she replied simply. "Go on. Your brother's waiting for you." He raised an eyebrow.

"You're not coming?"

"I've been given the afternoon off," she said with a shrug. "I'm going to read a book. Maybe clean the sitting room."

"Well, don't have too much fun. Wouldn't want you to wear yourself out," Raoul said, shaking his head as he hurried down the stairs. He took them two at a time to put extra distance between himself and his governess.

Outside he was shocked to find his brother standing beside the carriage, waiting for him. And was he smiling? Raoul was certain he'd seen everything now.

"You're late," Philippe chided as the boy climbed into the carriage. "And your hair's wet. I thought I told Bernadette not to—"

"I went for a swim," Raoul said quickly. "We were passing the beach and there was this girl—"

"There's always some girl," Philippe replied. "I might've known you were reaching that age." Raoul groaned.

"Can we… Can we not talk about this?" he asked as the carriage began to move.

"Oh, but I want details! Who is this little temptress that has captured my brother's heart?"

"Philippe, please." The boy glared at his brother, who bore the cheesiest grin upon his lips.

"Come now, Raoul, surely you can tell me about this lovely little lady you met on the beach—"

"I rescued her scarf from the sea, that is all!" Raoul's shouting shook the carriage and left his brother sitting in stunned silence, staring at him. Raoul folded his arms across his chest and stared out the tiny window at the buildings and people they passed.

"I was merely poking a little fun at you, brother." The words were spoken so quietly that Raoul nearly missed them. He rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly, unwilling to forgive so easily.

"You couldn't have at least tried to dry your hair?" Philippe asked wryly. Raoul glared at him before rolling his eyes and sighing deeply. "Raoul, are you going to be a snit the entire afternoon?"

"I don't know why you insist on bringing me everywhere," Raoul said. His brother cocked his head to the side, confused.

"Would you rather I leave you at home with your governess?"

"I'd rather you leave me in Chagny without a governess," the boy hissed. It was Philippe's turn to sigh heavily and look away, which he did with vigor.

"Raoul, we've been over this," he said. "You're too young."

"Am not. I'm almost fourteen. You didn't have a governess at fourteen."

"You're right, I didn't. Because our parents were still alive and Mother was adamant that she was to be my primary caregiver."

"Neither did Genviève or Anaïs."

"Again I would remind you of the fact that our parents were still alive and—"

"And you're too busy to raise me. I understand. But I'm older now. I'm old enough to take care of myself!"

"Raoul," Philippe sighed and shook his head. The carriage came to a stop just outside of a fairly plain house and Philippe stepped out, unwilling to continue arguing with his younger brother. Raoul stomped after him.

Inside, Raoul actively sought to ignore everything said and done by Philippe and the man who owned the house. He yawned and refused to shake the man's hand or even speak, to which Philippe gave a nervous laugh and shot him an icy glare as he tried to explain away his brother's behavior.

It wasn't until they ventured into the sitting room to meet the women of the house that Raoul snapped out of his little tantrum. The girl! His eyes widened as he stared at her and her golden hair and the pale pink dress that was just a few shades darker than her skin.

"And who might this lovely young thing be?" Philippe's words confused Raoul endlessly. Thing? Is she a piece of furniture? An artist's masterpiece? Surely she lives and breathes the same as any of us.

"Ah, yes, this is Christine Daaé, the daughter of our violinist," the man he hadn't been paying any attention to said as he gestured to the girl in the pink dress.

Christine, Raoul thought. What a lovely name for a lovely girl. As Philippe stepped forward to greet the girl, Raoul dodged past him and took her outstretched hand, kissing it delicately. The room fell silent before the men erupted in laughter.

"It seems my brother is as fond of the lovely little mademoiselle as I find myself," the comte said with a low chuckle. The boy blushed a deep crimson as his brother clapped his hand down on his shoulder. "This is my brother, Raoul."

"A pleasure," Raoul said, a pale pink flushing his cheeks as he made eye contact with the girl. He saw something in her eyes, something that made his heart flutter. He couldn't articulate it then, but somehow he knew that she would be an important part of his life.

And so she was! From that day through to the end of the summer, the two were inseparable. They spent every waking moment together, either swimming and running in the sand at the beach with Bernadette watching from a safe distance, or sitting by the fireplace and listening to Nils tell them fairytales and stories he was told as a child.

By the end of the summer, Raoul was positively smitten with Christine. When he learned that Professor Valerius meant to return to Paris for the winter, Raoul was thrilled. He knew Philippe had a woman he was wooing in Paris, it wouldn't be that much of a stretch to ask that they spend at least part of the winter there.

"I'll see you in Paris," he told Christine on the last eve of summer as they sat sprawled on the sand of the beach, watching the sunset. "My brother said we'll be there through the new year." He gave her a small piece of paper with their address on it. "Promise you'll come calling once you've settled in?"

Christine nodded, smiling sadly at the boy she'd grown so attached to over the summer. It had been so nice to have someone her own age to talk to, to confide in, who didn't treat her like a second class citizen for the way she stumbled over words and sometimes spoke in a garbled combination of French, English, and Swedish when she got too excited. Even the few weeks that would separate them now were agony to think about.

They clung to each other on the long walk back to the Valerius' house. Bernadette followed a few paces behind, clearing her throat whenever she deemed the children to be getting too close to one another.

"Inappropriate," she'd cough. Christine didn't understand what was so inappropriate about wanting to hold his hand. Or rest her head against his arm. Raoul rolled his eyes when draping his arm across her shoulders was deemed inappropriate.

They stood just inside the foyer for a long time, stumbling through their goodbyes and trying desperately to put words to feelings they had never needed words for before.

Before he left, Raoul turned and kissed her. As he pulled away, staring at her with wide eyes, he tried to process how soft she was and how sweet she smelled. He wanted to memorize the look of surprise on her face. It was only when Bernadette took him firmly by the arm and led him to the waiting carriage that he finally looked away from her.