5
Erick listened patiently as Katrina told her story in a rush of almost incoherent phrases and pleas for forgiveness.
"And why do you think I would let anyone take you?" He asked, the deep-set yellow eyes, gazing at her coolly.
Katrina shuffled a toe. "She said she'd find a lawyer."
Erick snorted. "Do you think a lawyer can prosecute a man he cannot find? Really, Katrina, this woman had nothing she can do." He lifted the child to his knee, and smiled. "No harm done but be careful whom you talk to about me in the future. Mademoiselle D'Arcy probably would do well to meet me. Perhaps it would be best if you took a letter to her for me first. Eh, Katrina?"
The girl nodded, her curls bobbing madly. "I can take her a letter, Uncle. I think she meant well, but I don't want to leave you."
"I shall tell her as much. Now, go to bed and I shall see what D'Arcy has to her name besides a reputed voice."
Katrina took the letter her uncle had written and left it on Marie's table the next morning. She felt much better, and even sang as she arranged her mistress' clothes for the day. Marie awoke to the little voice in the next room, and listened for a moment.
It was from "The Magic Flute", the Aria of the Queen of the Night. Quite difficult to sing, and full of terrifyingly high notes, the child's voice ran up and down, bouncing at the top almost joyfully, and dropping without any defect in quality. Hard enough for a seasoned singer with a full range, but for an untrained child with such a heavy voice, it should have been impossible. Marie came fully awake as she realized who had sung her awake, and what she was really hearing.
She grasped her robe and rushed to the next room, staring at the girl placing her toast and coffee on the table beside a letter. Katrina stopped when she saw Marie, and waited for further instructions. The Soprano sat down, feeling a little defeated. "Where did you learn to sing like that?"
"Uncle Erick."
Marie paused, unsure what to say. Every time she thought she had this uncle figured out, he presented another surprise. "What's this?" she asked, picking up the envelope.
"A letter, from Uncle Eric." Katrina vanished to the bedroom, presumably to see to her mistress' toiletries.
The letter was written in a heavy, childish hand, the scrawl of red filling the front with the soprano's name. The red skull seal at the back made her shudder. She ripped it open and read the following.
Mademoiselle D'Arcy,
My niece speaks highly of you, and I appreciate the effort and chance you have given her.
She says you are concerned over my apparent absence, and that you have hinted that she should be removed from my hands and placed in your care. Perhaps I should point out that you are only her mistress, not her family.
Katrina is all the family I have left, and I to her. To part us would be dreadfully cruel, though I admit; your fears are well founded. I am not a pleasant man.
My arrangements allow me to know what happens in the Opera, and what happens onstage. I will know if you mistreat my niece or threaten her in any way. I assure you, it will not be a pleasant day should that occur.
Erick.
So, she was found out. She gazed after the child longingly. She had always wanted to be a mother, but her less than perfect face and her rising career had removed that chance. Katrina was special; the girl had healed her lonely heart. Well, she would have to be content with the current arrangement.
The day went much as the others, though Marie was aware of a presence around her. She tried to ignore it, but couldn't. That wretched note!
Katrina went on blissfully, as if it were normal. When she saw Marie's tight lips, she reached up to touch her arm. "What's wrong? Can I help?"
"I'm fine, darling, I just feel…a little stifled."
The girl nodded. "Everyone feels that way here sometimes."
That was when the lead tenor walked in. He was beaming at the world in general, as if his affable face could make up for the horrid manners he constantly displayed. His eyes lit up at the sight of D'Arcy and Katrina. He had made it very clear that they were his hunting grounds. Katrina seemed oblivious to the fact, but Marie had started carrying a knife in her skirt.
He strode up to the stage, and requested the rehearsal pianist to play their duet. Marie complied, knowing an open challenge now was not good. She hoped that Erick would look after his niece around this wretch.