Christine awoke fully refreshed, if rather confused as to why Erik was not beside her. It took her several minutes to realise that she was back in her own bed in the flat she shared with Maman Valerius.
But she'd had the strangest dream!
As she'd slumbered, she had dreamt that Erik had told her more about his life. Who was this woman who had been so dear to him that he had gone to Persia to rescue her?
Persia.
Did Erik know the Persian man who was permitted to wander about the opera house?
Unformed questions flooded her mind as she rose and prepared for the day. There would be time for answers later. Now, she had to prepare herself for a day of explaining her absence and regaining a spot in the chorus.
Once she arrived at the opera house, M. Gabriel blanched. Between Mme. Valerius's explanation as to the girl's absence and the cryptic note he'd received days earlier, he was terrified as to who else might be happy to see Christine Daae succeed.
He was almost as worried about who might enjoy seeing her fail.
She would audition for a spot in the chorus, as she had before. That would keep La Sorelli from bristling. Much. Christine would be one of the featured dancers. That would keep La Carlotta mollified. And she would not be turned away, which would keep Gabriel alive.
He gulped as she pranced back and forth along the stage, executing the moves she had spent years perfecting. A cold sweat broke out on his brow as he wondered if he were being watched. Fortunately, the lights were low everywhere but the stage, and he sat in darkness. When she began singing an aria that Erik had written specifically for her voice, a hush fell over the entire building. The words spoke of a longing love, the kind that makes for beautifully tragic opera. Not an eye was dry when she concluded her song.
Erik was terribly nervous about what Mme. Valerius would say to him. She knew of some of the pain of his past, even more than he had dared tell Christine. But Anne held his future happiness in her withered hands; if she decided that Christine must not associate with a murderer, he feared his poor heart would be unable to handle it.
Sorelli had, as she had promised Philippe, found a girl for Raoul to spend time with. She was new to Paris, but she had long been a singer and a dancer. She had not spent years being classically trained, as Sorelli had been, but that wildness she still possessed after the time she'd spent in different cities in France made her all the more captivating.
Yes, Mignon would do nicely as a companion on their outings.
Erik arrived at Anne's a bit late. He'd had to stop at the Fourniers' to tender their payment for the month and to pick up some of the croissants Anne had so enjoyed.
He hated to admit that he'd dallied on his way there. He was more apprehensive than he could recall ever having been in his life. He was about to tell Anne what had happened during the "rosy hours" at Mazenderan . . . and what came after.