Unmasqued

She opened the door, and was greeted by a throng of admirers clutching flowers and waiting eagerly. "Oh, my," she said, pleased and warm, but very, very aware of a barely tangible shift in the room's mood behind her.

Raoul pushed past her. Blocking the door, as if to keep the others from seeing into the room, or, perhaps, seeing much of Christine, he turned toward her. "I shall bring my carriage around and come back for you shortly. Shall I call someone to help you change?"

"No… no, thank you, Raoul, I shall be able to take care of it myself."

He closed the door and she was alone.

And then she realized that she wasn't. "Madame Giry?"

"You did well tonight, Christine. But he will not be pleased if you neglect your rest in favor of social activities." Madame Giry had moved behind her and was working quickly at the buttons that lined her spine.

The heavy costume fell away, and Madame's warm hands moved over her shoulders and down her arms to push the silk to the floor. "Take care not to anger him, Christine. His wrath is not to be borne. Are you certain it is wise to go with the vicomte?"

So Christine's worry that her angel would not be happy to know she already had an admirer was correct. "But… I must eat, madame. And he is nothing but an old friend, and the brother of the new patron. It can only be good for the success of the theater if he wishes to dine with me."

Madame's face, aged but still beautiful, turned hard with concern. She bent close to Christines ear, her breath warm and moist, sending prickling shivers along the edge of her neck. "Have a care, Christine, for as his pupil, you have the chance to be great, with or without the favor of the patron's brother. If you please him, you will be cared for beyond your imagination. If you displease him, his wrath will be immense. He is brilliant and kind, but he is selfish and would not be willing to share you. Note well what I say, Christine. With him as your tutor, you need not worry about finding a protector, as the other girls do."

Did she mean that her angel would be her protector? Or that he merely wished to be certain that she did not forget about her lessons?

Instead of asking, for Christine felt a strange squiggling feeling in her middle at the thought that he might hear, she twisted the subject. "A protector? Raoul? I do not think he has such an idea in his head. He is only an old friend, pleased to see me again. Nevertheless, I will heed your warning, madame," Christine replied earnestly. She did not forget that it was her ange who had tutored her to this wondrous night. "It is only a dinner, to celebrate my debut."

"I hope that you shall remember that, my dear. And it is fitting that you should celebrate. Now, quickly, let us change your clothing and get you prepared for dinner. It must be a short meal, so that you sleep well tonight. Look, I have brought you a gown to wear."

Surprised, and embarrassed that she hadn't thought for herself of what she would wear to dinner with a vicomte and the theater managers, Christine turned. "It's beautiful. Where did it come from?"

It was striking, and very stylish, and nothing like any gown Christine had ever owned, or even seen up close. Certainly the opera costumes were all beautiful and bejeweled and ornate-the better to be seen from the boxes and the stalls-but they were too heavy and fancy to wear in the real world.

"I bullied Tiline into letting you borrow it," Madame explained. "Her Monsieur Boulan has girted her with many lovely gowns as of late."

It was a dinner gown of deep garnet satin trimmed with gold lace that gathered in soft folds at the tops of her arms. The lace made a narrow vee from shoulder to shoulder in front and back, and where the dark red bodice gathered over her breasts, more gold lace hung along its lower edges.

The skirt was nearly as heavy as the costume Christine had been wearing, and fell in generous folds that were gathered up into a huge bustle at the base of her spine. A wide swath of gold satin draped from each side of the front of the skirt and was fastened over the bustle with a huge bow made from more gold lace festooned with white and red satin roses.

When she saw herself in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself as shy, lonely little Christine Daae.

"Thank you, madame," she said as she left the room at last.

Outside of her dressing room, the passageway was empty. Still, shadowed, silent… so unlike what Christine was used to, with the comings and goings of actors and costumiers and musicians, prop hands and stagehands… it was quiet and lonely. As she had been, it seemed, forever.

But now, tonight, she was a star. Everyone wanted to see her, speak to her, be with her. No longer the shy mouse of a girl, she was sought after by a vicomte! Even if he was an old friend, he would not have sought her out if he did not wish to see her.