Chapter 17

Erik's POV

My treacherous heart was at work again that night. I tossed and turned in my three hundred year old bed, but was not haunted by the specter of my von Mulheim ancestors but by my memories of Christine. This was not the first time that it happened. Nighttime which used to be my friend and ally had become my worst enemy. My dreams would be assaulted by all of my dashed hopes and unrequited pangs of love. I wondered if it were not some new torture devised by the God who has always despised me to crush my fragile sanity. Again and again I would return to those last moments in the lair, to Christine's sweet kisses and then my final impassioned declaration of love. Christine would open her mouth to speak to me and then a shadow would arise and once again stab me over and over again. Raoul would turn to me but at the last moment he was transformed into me. Perhaps my little measure of revenge has backfired and I am seeing myself in my enemy. The strangest feeling of all is that I sense that Christine is nearby, and yet how could she be when she is in Paris with the boy. She is probably sipping tea at some cotillion, or picking out her wedding dress with her future mother in law. But I can't help but to feel her closeness.

I got up and decided to give up on sleeping. In the old days in my lair I would have worked on my opera or tinkered with a mechanical toy, but I had not yet made a new place for my inventions here, and I have not played a note of music in months. How could I when that part of me is dead? A part of me felt like rousing my cousin and asking him to concoct some diversion to keep my mind off of my darker thoughts. Despite my initial hesitation to embrace him, I find myself increasingly drawn into his world of light. I have never had a friend such as him, who treated me like just another man. Even Nadir at times was in fear of me, and steered clear of me when my temper was stoked. Christian seldom aroused my temper and even when he did he did not take it seriously. He would soon turn my rage into laughter as he would point out the ridiculousness of my anger. I wondered what I would have been if I had known him as a younger man, or even better, if my grandfather had succeeded in taking me away from my mother. Perhaps I never would have evolved into the bitterly murderous monster in Persia, or the lonely ghost of the Opera House. Perhaps, I would have found my hideousness to be a blessing from Apollo and not a curse. I will never know for sure what might have happened because none of those possibilities occurred.

I left the dark brooding Schloss and decided to take a stroll through my rose garden. I had not taken the time to explore every nook of my property but I found that it possessed sensuous qualities. It resembled how I perceived my inner most self to be. It possessed a veneer of civility but was raw and untamed just beneath the surface. Unlike me however, it was beautiful. I could walk clear to the banks of the Rhine River if I were to choose and if I looked closely I could faintly make out the soft lights of Strasbourg just down the river from my home. The cool crisp night air removed the last bastions of uneasiness from my troubled mind. I felt renewed and less agitated than I had before.

I attributed my unease to the arrival of the Giry's and Nadir on the train in the morning. I guess that it was natural that thoughts of them would lead me back to Christine. It had been nice to have some time away from Paris and all of my memories from there. The Giry's and Nadir represented chapters of my life that were best forgotten and left behind where they belonged. Perhaps I made a mistake bringing them here to be with me, but it was too late for second thoughts. I should be pleased that they cared enough about me to give up everything in their lives to be with me. I never before had realized that I had friends of such a caliber. In my self –pity, I always believed myself to be alone and apart from everyone in the human race, but that was a lie. I was not really alone, just unloved in a conjugal sense. I found a small bench in the back of my garden and gazed out upon my new kingdom and embraced it fully.

Christine's POV

I awoke in the middle of the night in a strange bed. For a moment I had forgotten that I was now in Germany in a strange Chateau owned by a nobleman that I had never met. I was at an intersection of past and future. The next day would be the beginning of my new life away from everything that I once deemed impossible to leave. I had thought that I would remain in the world of music forever or at least become the wife of a loving man but I was destined for neither. My new mistress seemed to be a kindly older lady. She was not, as I feared, snobbish like Raoul's sister or the other noblewomen that I had met at various functions at the opera house. I would do what she asked of me, until either such a time as she no longer needed me, or until I decided that it was time to continue to Sweden to pursue my new life in my homeland. I was happy to be away from the everyday reminders of my past relationships. It was not healthy for me to wander the halls of the opera house feeling the emptiness of my life and unfulfilled dreams. It was time to move on to a better place.

I vowed to myself not to get involved with a new man at this time. I did not want to lose sight of my ultimate goal of returning to Sweden. I did not picture myself as a stout German hausfrau tending my garden. Once we crossed the border into Germany the train was full of them sitting with their husbands and children in the second and third class compartments. They all seemed happy but I was taught by a genius to long for more than that. Erik had imbibed me with the desire to be more than just an ordinary wife and mother. I wanted all of those things as well but I needed something else as well. Looking back, perhaps if I had stayed with Raoul and married him I would have made myself miserable. Raoul was looking for someone to breed the next generation of de Chagnys. I wonder if that would have been enough for me ultimately.

Erik had taught me to think about many things not just music. He patiently explained to me about how many things worked and also about the history and culture behind the Operas that we both loved so dearly. When he would explain Faust to me he taught me about the mythology behind it. He felt that I would not be able to express the full range of emotion if I did not know the meaning behind the stories that the opera presented. He supplied me with books by the ancients and by others as well. Erik wanted me to understand the pain that the characters endured to bring the purity of their truth into my voice. It was the secret to my sudden success as a Prima Donna and also the cause of my failure when he left me. My own pain drowned the emotions of theirs. I could not present their agony because my voice was engulfed by my own. I sounded as flat as Carlotta whose passion had long since burned away. Ironically the fire and the death of Piangi reignited her voice. Before I left Paris, I heard that she sounded more as she once did years ago when she was as young as I am now. Even Erik acknowledged that he once found her voice to be adequate, which was his standard praise for everyone but me.

I rose up out of the strange bed, as if something was calling to me. It was the same feeling that I used to get when my angel was near. It was a sweet feeling and it refreshed my parched soul, at least for the moment. Perhaps I was reminded of my angel a little bit by this place. It was a lot like him dark and yet elegant, melancholy yet uplifting. Perhaps it was the coincidence that the Baron's first name was the same as his, Erik. For a moment I felt his presence, and yet it was impossible he was in America or England definitely not here. It was too close to France for complete safety and anonymity. For not the first time in recent months, I missed his soft sweet songs in my head beckoning me to drop my defenses and revulsion for his face and deeds, pleading for understanding. At long last I realized that I wanted to surrender completely and find comfort and solace in his strong arms. I wanted to comfort him as well and give him the love that he deserved so completely but was always denied him.

I stood up and went to the window. I thought that I heard a sound. It was dark outside. The moon was full so it only gave off some light enough that I spotted something or someone in the shadows of the garden below me. I felt a strong urge to investigate, but knew that it would be foolish to do so. I could have sworn that it was the shape of a man, a very tall man much like Erik. He was wearing a cloak. For a moment I imagined a flash of white which could be a white mask, as Erik wore but I was sure that it was purely a product of my overwrought imagination. He haunted me still like the Phantom that he was.

The figure moved and sat on a small bench in the corner of the garden, and I could see him gazing into the distance like a ruler of a small kingdom. Perhaps it was a servant or one of the mysterious Barons. Whoever it was held himself in an elegant and regal manner evocative of one man in my mind, Erik. I gasped in recognition, and before I knew it my legs had carried me out of my room. Anyone who would have seen me would have thought that I was a lunatic. I did not stop even to put on a robe over my nightgown. I did not know this place at all but descended the windy tower steps to the ground level and lost myself in a maze of corridors. I found a door that lead outside and made my way into the garden and over to the bench where I had seen what appeared to be Erik, but he was gone.

I looked around franticly. I was searching for signs of the man who had been here. I found nothing at all. The cold began to permeate my bones and I knew that I needed to return inside but I had made no attempt to memorize my way back to my room in this vast estate. I realized that I was a fool. There was probably not even a man out there, let alone Erik. I had run like a lunatic through a strange house, where I knew absolutely no one. I looked around several corridors searching for the tower to return to my bed but was repeatedly frustrated. Just then a man appeared who was tall like Erik, and very handsome. He had expressive green eyes as Erik did, but his face was classically chiseled like Raoul's. He looked at me with amusement. Looking me over and laughing at me.

He addressed me in German "Kann ich Ihnen helfen mein fraulein? Haben Sie sich verirrt?"

I looked at him blankly I could vaguely understand a few words, German and Swedish were sister languages.

"Do you speak French?" I asked him.

He looked at me and smiled "Of course mademoiselle. Forgive me. I could not place you among either the servants or anywhere else. By deduction, you must be the Comtesses' new companion from France. If you are not, I must ask the gendarmes to remove you and I would hate to inconvenience such a pretty young lady."

The Baron was quite charming, too charming I might add. He reminded me of Raoul but much more mature and suave than he was. Perhaps if my heart was not already spoken for I might have been attracted to him.

I replied "You are correct in your deduction monsieur le Baron. I am the Comtesse's new companion."

He looked at me in amusement "Well I guess that we have ascertained one another's identity. Do you have a Christian name that I might address you with? Mademoiselle seems to be inappropriate when we have met in such an intimate manner."

I blushed profusely realizing that I had rushed down in only my nightgown.

"My name is Christine Daae." I told him.

I could see a veiled flash of recognition when I told him my name. Almost as if he recognized it. Perhaps he did I thought bitterly. Our scandal at the Opera house may have reached all the way to Alsace. It is not so far from Paris and was until recently a French area.

"I know that there are two Barons in residence which one are you?" I asked him.

He gave me an exaggerated bow "It would appear that our names are quite similar I am Baron Christian von Mulheim and you may call me Christian since we have become well acquainted. I seldom practice the decorum of using my title when I am at home."

He looked at me and smiled even his teeth were perfect "Why did you leave your chamber at such a late hour? Was it not to your liking? Were you accosted by a ghost? We have several in residence you know. My favorite one is that of Otto, a twelfth century Baron, they say that he lost his head in a battle here and is still looking for it."

I laughed. The only ghost that I believed in was the Phantom who was quite real and most definitely not a ghost. I looked into the Baron's eyes and could see that he was teasing me.

"I was haunted by a ghost, but he is a Phantom from my past. I thought that I spotted him in the garden before but that is impossible since he is not here. I think that I must be weary from the long trip from Paris." I added.

"Are you so sure that he was only a Phantom from your past? What did this ghost look like?" he asked me in amusement. "Perhaps I can help you find him."

"He was very tall and thin with a cape. He looked as if he might be wearing a mask." I told him. "I know that it sounds crazy but he reminded me of someone that I used to know. I had to see if it were him." I told him.

The Baron inspected me even more closely as if he were trying to see inside my mind. "What would be your reaction if this Phantom turned out to be the one that you speak of would you be afraid of him? Or would you want it to be him?"

His questions were starting to sound peculiar as if he knew something but it could not be. This man was German and a nobleman, I had never laid eyes on him before. What I knew of Erik he had no family or friends outside of the Opera House, particularly not in Germany. I did not understand the man's interest but I humored him despite the fact that I had only just met him. He was my social superior and I did not want to offend him.

"I would apologize to him for all that I have done to him. You see I misjudged him greatly and hurt his feelings in the process. He believes that I have betrayed him." I told the man. I did not know why he was concerned with the matter or why I answered him. The man was certainly friendly and easy to talk to. He seemed very extroverted.

The man looked at me sympathetically "Did you betray him?" he asked softly.

I replied "Yes, more than once, but not in the way that he believed it to be."

"Would you like to expound on what you mean Christine? I am having trouble understanding you. Of course it might be that French is not my native tongue." He admitted.

"I am not sure that I understand it myself." I told him. "It is complicated and I am sure that you have better things to do at this time of night than discuss this sort of matter with a perfect stranger such as myself."

He smiled at me "Touché Christine, it is only that you have intrigued me greatly with your ghost story. I am not used to finding beautiful women lost in the corridors of my house looking for ghosts when everyone else is asleep; well at least everyone but you, me and my cousin Erik."

He could see me blush at the mention of the name Erik.

He smiled "Perhaps it is he that you saw in the garden. He is a bit of a night owl at times. When he cannot sleep he wanders around. I saw him just a few minutes ago right before I encountered you."

"Who is this cousin Erik of yours? I have heard mention of him several times. I know that he is the other Baron Mulheim." I asked.

"He is the owner of this Schloss; I help to run it in his absence. He has only recently come to stay here." He told me.

I couldn't resist asking. "Where did he come from?"

"He came from near Konigsberg in the eastern part of Germany. He is a soldier who has been in many battles in his time. He does wear a half mask on his face to cover his injuries." He told me.

I was disappointed that it was not my Erik that he was speaking of despite the remarkable coincidence of name and medical condition.

He continued "I am sure that you will meet my cousin yourself in time. He does not get out in society much but I am trying to persuade him otherwise. He has given up on socializing with others outside his small circle of friends. I believe that a young lady who he was quite taken with broke his heart right before he came here. I want to get him to try again but must be very careful with how I do so. I do not want him to get his heart broken all over again. He might decide to stay in his room forever." He looked at me and suppressed a yawn. "Permit me to escort you back to your room Christine; you were almost there when you encountered me."

He pointed to a stairwell. It is up this way. Several minutes later we were back at my door. As I went in he gave me another bow and took my hand gently and kissed it. "Sleep well Christine. In time, I am sure that you will get a chance to speak to the ghost of your past. In the meantime it is advisable for you to rest. You have a busy day ahead of you tomorrow."