Chapter 24

The performance did not resume in fifteen minutes, partially due to Senor di Carlo's blatant refusal to leave the stage. Had the circumstances been different, his childish display of sitting in the middle of the stage would have been laughable. However, given that Cathedra was presumably still backstage and not yet conscious, the crowd still milling around within the theater did not know what to make of him.

About half the patrons had left the theater during the extended intermission. Row C, seat 15 was still empty, as were the majority of the seats in proximity. Madeline, who had said she wanted to speak to the ballet mistress, weaved her way through a throng of young dancers who had come running the moment they spotted her.

From Box Five, I saw precisely why she had been given the name Mother by her fellow dancers. Everyone from pink-cheeked girls who could not have been older than six years of age to young ladies Madeline's age rushed up to greet her. The younger ones flung their arms around Madeline's waist while she smoothed back their hair and kissed the tops of their heads.

Within minutes, she was completely surrounded not only by dancers, but by a few other people; stage hands and seamstresses by the looks of it. Madeline took her time and spoke to everyone with rapt attention. I watched as she gracefully swept from one person to the next and offered a reassuring nod of her head or gentle touch to the shoulder of whomever stood before her.

Absently I touched my own forearm, mimicking her movements as she spoke to a younger boy before he scampered off. I felt strangely proud as I watched her interactions with her theater family. She was clearly loved and respected by everyone around her.

"Anne Edwards!"

Madeline immediately turned her attention away from another dancer who looked to be around her age and searched for the voice calling somewhere below where I sat. I stood, leaned over the balcony edge, and saw a man in Navy attire make his way across the row of seats and down the aisle where Madeline stood.

I had forgotten her given name was Anne and not Madeline. I assumed Edwards was her last name, however, I was certain she had never told me.

Madeline offered a wave and bright smile as the man made his way toward her. She excused herself and trotted toward him with her arms extended.

I plopped back into my chair and gave an exasperated sigh, partially hoping Madeline would hear me. Arms crossed, I watched the man greet her with a bow before he took her hand and made a wide, sweeping gesture that was far too dramatic for my taste. Madeline placed her hand over her heart while her call pretended to pepper the back of her hand with multiple kisses. This, of course, made her erupt with laughter while I slouched in my seat and quaked with utter disdain.

This was undoubtedly the man she had gone to find during the festival, the gentleman who had most likely also kept her longer than she anticipated, thereby ruining my chance to play the music I had found.

My jealousy returned tenfold now that I could see him in his officer's uniform. He was tall and lean, his movements graceful and almost calculated as though he had thought out his every move. He stood with his shoulders back and his head held high like some damnable show horse.

"Gaetan!" Madeline said with a laugh as she clutched his arm. "No, no, you are too kind."

My interest in their interaction quickly faded. My spine curled to his perfect posture, my head held low while he tipped his chin up. He laughed, I scowled, and when he looked at Madeline and smiled, I abruptly stood and walked out of Box Five.

I would have returned to the lakeside, but there was someone coming up the stairs toward the box seats. Without a second though I hurdled over the golden braided rope blocking off Box Five and practically dived on to the plush carpeting. I hit the inside wall shoulder first and stifled a curse as agonizing seconds ticked by and I waited for whomever walked up the stairs to continue on their way or discover me pinned to the corner.

"See? I told you there was nothing up here," a male voice said. "You are thinking of Ivory Palace."

Another voice replied, but I had no idea what was said. I sat upright and leaned against the wall as I sulked in the shadows. At any moment I could have returned home, but there was nothing to do besides sit, and since I was already seated I had no desire to move.

Someone came out on the stage and said the next act would begin briefly, which was followed by the lights dimming momentarily. The opera box became so dark with the lights dimmed that from where I sat on the floor I could not see my hand in front of my face.

"Er-" Madeline's voice made me jump. She walked into the box and turned in a full circle before she walked back out, then in again and reached for her program. Our eyes met and she gasped once she saw me on the floor. "God in Heaven, what are you doing?"

"Sitting," I answered.

"How are you going to watch the rest of the performance from there?"

I shrugged. Madeline took her seat and eyed me briefly.

"His name is Commander Gaetan Giry," Madeline said as she sat back and casually crossed her ankles. "He is in Paris for a month and then he is off to sea again."

I stared at my knees, which I had drawn up to my chest. I was not sure how to respond to her words as I had fully expected her to chastise me for sitting on the floor like a defiant brat.

"He knew both of my brothers and has met my parents," she continued. I noticed the glow returned to her face and she smiled as she stared out at the theater. "It's been almost nine months since I last saw Gaetan, and I will tell you honestly it is wonderful to see his face again."

Her features were relaxed, her tone so matter-of-fact that I appreciated the direct nature in which she spoke to me.

"I am sure we will spend a great deal of time together while he is in town," she said as she leaned forward and met my eye. "But, Erik, please understand that if I do not visit as often as I have in the past, it is not meant as a sleight toward our friendship. Gaetan is very dear to me."

I sat back and nodded, pretending to consider her words for a moment longer when I knew without a doubt I could not be angry with her for wishing to see a friend. If I had been able to see my uncle for one more month, I would have dropped everything and ran to my opportunity.

"Gaetan and I have a lot of catching up to do." Her lips quivered, her voice becoming tighter. "He had no idea Thomas passed. When I told him, the look on his face broke my heart. I hope you do not mind if-"

"Of course," I said before she continued.

Madeline offered a closed-lipped smile. "This has been a difficult day," she said. "I think the manager is going to sage the whole theater after the show."

"Sage?"

"For bad energy," Madeline said with a shrug.

"How is Cathedra?"

"Awake. That is all I heard. She will not appear back on stage today, but she did say she wanted to perform tomorrow night."

"Is she well enough?"

"She seems to think so, but I suppose it's up to the managers discretion."Madeline paused and fidgeted with her ring for a moment. "Erik, I also wanted to tell you-"

Her words were cut off by the orchestra playing the first notes of a symphony as the second act began. I hurried to my feet and sat in the chair beside her, my sulking left behind as the music started.

"We will speak later," she said against the shell of my ear. Her hand grazed gently over mine, a comforting, motherly gesture I had seen her offer to a dozen other people in the theater. One small gesture made me feel no different from anyone else in the audience.

I nodded and sat back. I could wait a month for Gaetan Giry to leave. Of course, I did not have much of a choice in the matter.

oooOooo

It was a dreadfully slow month of Gaetan Giry visiting with Madeline. She limited herself to seeing me every other day, then every three days halfway through the commander's leave.

Left to my own devices-and knowing Madeline was preoccupied outside of the theater, I spent many days across the lake exploring the intricate hallways and a series of natural tunnels that led to underground springs, maddening dead ends, and meandering, roughed-out passages that narrowed or were filled with spiderwebs.

Countless hours were spent crawling through tunnels until I returned to my side of the lake sweaty, covered in dirt and many scrapes, and also quite exhausted. I enjoyed myself immensely unless rats were involved in which case I could not run fast enough in the opposite direction.

There was rarely anyone around when I set off exploring the tunnels, and the further I ventured, the more I came to realize how easy it would be to get completely turned around for several hours if not days. I realized if I dropped my lantern and shattered my only source of light it would be impossible for me to find my way back.

It was quite the sobering thought.

By the second week-along with my newfound fear of the complete darkness- I tired of becoming tangled in spider webs and having rats scurry past my feet and decided to stay closer to the theater where seamstresses and costume designers worked tirelessly to keep everyone's costumes and wigs in good repair. I braved my way through dark halls and navigated through shadows, learning which doors were left unlocked and rooms never used should I need a quick escape.

Cathedra returned to the stage, which surprised me, and I heard every single one of her performances. Her cousin, whom Madeline had pointed out to me, remained in Paris and became her understudy. There was quite a buzz surrounding Carlotta, but I couldn't tell if it was good or bad since the soprano's younger cousin seemed to materialize out of nowhere and end the chatter.

Best of all, through my constant to the other side of the lake and walks through the servants' halls I also learned more about the female body than I was prepared to know.

Dancers spent the majority of their time in various stages of undress, and it appeared I could not walk more than thirty steps without stumbling upon someone without all of their appropriate clothing.

I learned there was no such thing as modesty within a troupe of dancers, which for a young man of my age was both strange and delightful. I did not set out in search of naked women. In fact, the first instance in which I peered through a doorway and saw two women casually strolling with only their ballet skirts on I jumped back and turned away, embarrassed from my findings.

A week later, there seemed to be more women walking around without clothes than ones who were dressed, and eventually it became so commonplace that I found it unusual to spot anyone fully dressed. Being a proper gentleman, however, I made certain I stayed clear of the dressing rooms as I had no desire to leer at women as they changed in private. That was an activity Joseph Buquet seemed to enjoy and I wanted nothing to do with him.

Other than dancers running around, there were also many amorous couples clinging to the shadows, which sometimes curtailed my trips around the servants' halls. Twice in the same day I stumbled upon the same two individuals making the most of what they most likely thought was an empty hall as I traveled toward my second favorite location in the whole theater: the kitchen and pantry. The lovers were both alarmingly aggressive in tearing off each other's clothes and so loud that at first I thought someone was injured. I had the unfortunate timing to catch them both on may to the kitchen and back with my spoils. Their encounters seemed outright exhausting and as I managed to sneak past them, I thought of all the food I could have been eating if I had waited another fifteen minutes to leave the kitchen.

As Madeline had said, no one seemed to notice a bit of food missing. I took advantage of late night excursions and often lifted a few pastries as well as whatever else I found available. A handful of times I was bold enough to travel alone to the rooftop late at night and sat beneath Apollo with buttered bread and some hard cheese. Once there was a light drizzle, but I stayed and watched a storm approach until the wind picked up and the lightning became dangerously close.

When it was cool and pleasant late at night, I stayed until the quiet streets of Paris became alive with the sound of birdsong before I trotted down the stairs to the main floor, grabbed my lantern, and headed back into the cellar to bathe and dress for bed.

It was a perfect time of year where the line between summer and autumn blurred. I was alone for most of the time, and yet I did not feel truly lonely. I overheard plenty of conversations throughout the theater and learned about what head of state was planning to attend an upcoming performance, rumors about chorus girls in bed with patrons, and the general dislike of Joseph Buquet by most everyone in the theater. Carlotta was preparing for her role as understudy for Cathedra, and the younger cousin was expected to attend rehearsals before taking the stage during a matinee.

Slow as the month passed, I had plenty on my mind and at my disposal. Above all else, I was grateful to be safe for the first time in my life. Beneath the opera house, no one was waiting to beat me for the sake of doing me harm. I ate regular, fresh food, had a bed and warm blankets, and a collection of clothing fit for a noble. I bathed on a regular basis with a pleasant smelling soap, my hair was no longer falling out in clumps, and the only bruises were the ones I gained from bumping my leg on the table or when I hit my shin on the rocks when wading across to the opposite side of the lake.

The nightmares lessened, the thoughts of my father and mother did not grip me so tightly, and for the most part I attempted to stay busy with music and the labyrinth of the Opera House.

As the anniversary of my uncle's death grew near, I did everything within my power to avoid thinking of him, and for the most part I was successful.

For the most part.