The Phantom gathered his youngest daughter into the parlor after breakfast while Christine sat Arthur up with some lessons with his nanny before heading out with Charlotte.

"So is Emily coming later?" Matilda removed her Mary Janes used the mantle of the fireplace as a barre to do some stretches.

"We will be having that conversation later," Erik sat down on the couch.

"So then what are we discussing?" Matilda did a grand plié.

"The family plans for the winter and spring," Erik crossed his one leg over the other, resting the ankle on the knee. "As you know Gustave is getting married at the end of this week. He and Rose will then be going to Paris for their honeymoon."

"Have you seen our dresses, Papa?" Matilda raised up into a demi-pointe in her stocking feet. "Rose picked out the most beautiful gowns for us to wear as her bridesmaids."

"Yes, she did," He smiled. "But after the wedding." He took a deep breath, "I know you want to go to the ballet academy and your mother and I want you to go…we're just not so sure we want you to be there while we are in Florida."

She paused mid plié. "What do you mean?"

"Come here, Matilda. I want to see you while we talk."

Matilda closed her eyes and took a deep breath and letting it out before she walked over to her father.

He smirked, "At least you can control your annoyance. Sit down, I think it is time you know a little more about your mother and I."

Her now open eyes lit up, "Really? I mean I know how you and Mama met and that you almost murdered this Raoul figure that Goose thought was his father for ten years because you and Mama enjoyed the joys of the flesh without considering the birds and the bees. And then Mama almost died when she came here because some woman named Meg shot her because she was also in love with you."

"Excuse me?!" The Phantom shuffled on the couch aghast at what his youngest daughter knew.

"What? Did Goose and Lottie to me?"

He shook his head, "No, no not at all. But did you understand any of what you said?"

She put herself in 5th position before rising up on the balls of her feet, "I am trying to be proper, Papa and speak in the terms of the poems I have read."

"Poems you have read? What in Heaven's Name has the governess been teaching you?"

"Oh Papa, don't act like such a prude, everyone knows you're not," Matilda went from fifth position into an Arabesque. "It is part of the appeal of Phantasma. I hear the talk. The Oh-La-La Girls, The ballets in the operas just a little more sensual because the stories are just a little more romantic. There's a reason your house of mirrors is the most popular in Coney Island." The girl jumped and landed on a ball of foot Pique, "Yours has the best dark corners and nooks for young lovers. Don't worry, Papa, I'll never use it like Gustave did. I'm too busy trying to perfect my dancing."

"Like Gustave did?" Erik took a deep breath and sighed. Of course, he and Rose did.

Matilda giggled, "Oh Papa, you had to have known about Goose and Rose. He thought he was being discreet but how often do you need to check the mechanics of a house of mirrors?"

"Matilda, you are distracting me with tattling on your brother," Erik let out an exasperated breath. "I need you to sit down. This is important. Your mother and I decided we're not going to let you start at the ballet company until spring."

She bluntly brought her Arabesque to the floor, "What did you say?"

Erik sat his hands in his lap, "Your mother and I talked and we decided we couldn't handle the idea of you at the academy while we were in Florida."

"But, Papa!" She sat down on the couch beside him, grabbing his hand. "You know how responsible I am! And Emily will be there."

"That's not the point, Tilda," He squeezed her hands tight. "What I was going to tell you about your mother and me? Her mother died when she was no older than Arthur. She grew up with her father as a traveling musician, until he died when she was 16. They had a family friend who was able to get your mother into the Opera Populaire's academy. I never knew my father; he died in an accident the morning my mother went into labor with me. She blamed me for his death; said I had to be cursed coming out of her womb looking the way I did. I was told she had the midwife cover my face before she put a diaper on me. Refused to let me suckle at her breast, paid some poor woman generously to be my wet nurse." Erik turned away trying to hide the tears, but his youngest daughter saw some run down his deformed cheek.

"Oh Papa, don't cry!" She pulled her hands from his and wiped his cheek. She then threw her arms around him holding onto him tight, "How can a mother be so cruel to her own child? It doesn't matter, you have your own children to love now, who love you back."

"Oh my dear, Tilda," Erik returned her embrace and kissed her on the cheek. "And this is exactly why your mother and I want to wait on sending you to the ballet academy." He back out of her embrace slightly so he could look her directly in the eyes, "We never wanted any of you to not feel loved, we want to have the best possible relationship with all our children and we feel like we have failed you. You are turning into such a lovely young lady and I feel like I haven't gotten to know her. I want us to have a leisurely few months in Florida."

"But what about Charlotte?" Matilda pulled away from her father. "She's not going to the hotel. She's staying here and going to school. So she can but I can't?"

Erik bit his distorted lip. "Tilda, dear, your sister is going to a boarding school that is also a finishing school. She is similar to me when I was young and needs more guidance on how to be in the world than your mother and I can properly provide. Especially after how she behaved this summer."

Matilda leaned back into her father, "Is this because she was sweet on the stable boy?"

"You really do know everything but don't say a word. I am truly afraid of what else you might know now."

Matilda giggled, "How am I supposed to know?"

"I don't know. But back to the subject at hand. Do you think you will be okay spending the winter with us in Florida?"

"But how will I practice dancing down there? I can't just stop even if I don't go to the new academy right away."

Erik sighed, "We shall find a way to take an instructor with us."

Christine looked through the racks of ready-to-wear shirtwaists in Bloomingdale's, Charlotte on her side looking at the floor. "Now which ones do you prefer, Charlotte? According to the dress code, all uniform shirtwaists have to be either cream or ivory. There was nothing about ruffles or lace. If I were you, I would get some of those characteristics just to stand out a little."

Charlotte sighed, "I've already agreed to go to the school. Why do I have to wear a uniform as well?"

"It is all part of the program," Christine smiled at her oldest daughter. "Without having to think about what you are going to wear; you can focus more on growing into the wonderful young woman we know you can be."

"What color does my skirt have to be?"

"Blue."

"What shade of blue; dark, light, greenish blue? You know that's important, Mama."

Christine laughed lightly, "Yes, it is. I do believe dark to regular blue. Pick out your shirtwaists first and then we will go see what they have in stock in your size. These are just to start. We're also going to stop at Mrs. Donovan's and get you a couple custom shirtwaists and skirts ordered."

Charlotte's doe eyes widened to look just like her mother's, "Does Mrs. Donovan even make such basic items?"

"She personally doesn't but her apprentice seamstresses do. Especially for a client such as myself," Christine smiled large at her daughter as she wrapped her arm around her from the side. "Now let's finish up here and so we can make the tea reservation I made for us."

"Tea?"

"Yes, I figured we both could use some public practice together. Somebody is going to recognize me as Christine Daae the opera singer or Mr. Y's wife. And there will be someone who whispers about your birthmark. Let us prove them how calm we can be."

Charlotte raised her hand to mouth to suppress a giggle.

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