It has been barely a month since the evening of her debut in Hannibal--and since she so foolishly snatched away his mask. She had almost expected him to disappear after that, but he had returned to her within a matter of days and their lessons had resumed, a little formal, a little stiff, neither of them addressing what had happened. It was only very recently that some of that had fallen away and they had started to see a return of the rapport they had established before he had revealed himself to be not an angel, but a man.
Of course, the easing tension had just given room for her niggling curiosity to grow. Perhaps there should be apprehension, too, and maybe, on a small scale, there was some small amount of hesitation. He was, after all, a stranger, a man who had deceived her for months. But he had done her no harm, had, in fact, been a friend to her, a confidant and comforter. Even in his moment of rage, she had not feared he would harm her, not intentionally.
So it is the curiosity that wins out, all but plowing over whatever warnings her mind might see fit to conjure. Instead, her head is filled with questions. Who was this man? Why did he choose to make his home beneath the opera? What had spurred him to cloak himself in the cover of a ghost? Was there a story behind the garish scars on his face? Each question spurring a half dozen more and almost as many possible scenarios to answer each one.
And so Christine is secretly quite pleased in her small ruse--and the opportunity it presents--and dashes off her reply quickly:
This evening after rehearsals would work well, if that is convenient for you, Master. Tomorrow morning would also do as we do not have rehearsals at all and I am free until an evening outing with Meg.
His reply is short but he agrees to see her that evening and she makes her excuses after rehearsal, begging off of Meg and Jammes' invitation to dinner and returning to her dressing room. She locks the door and takes a seat at her vanity to wait, faintly nervous in a way she hasn't been before and knowing it's because of her not-quite-a-plan to learn more about her secretive teacher. But there's excitement, too. She's always had an appreciation for the mysterious and dark, and clandestine lessons with a masked stranger certainly qualified. A little excitement was to be expected, was it not?
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Of course, the easing tension had just given room for her niggling curiosity to grow. Perhaps there should be apprehension, too, and maybe, on a small scale, there was some small amount of hesitation. He was, after all, a stranger, a man who had deceived her for months. But he had done her no harm, had, in fact, been a friend to her, a confidant and comforter. Even in his moment of rage, she had not feared he would harm her, not intentionally.
So it is the curiosity that wins out, all but plowing over whatever warnings her mind might see fit to conjure. Instead, her head is filled with questions. Who was this man? Why did he choose to make his home beneath the opera? What had spurred him to cloak himself in the cover of a ghost? Was there a story behind the garish scars on his face? Each question spurring a half dozen more and almost as many possible scenarios to answer each one.
And so Christine is secretly quite pleased in her small ruse--and the opportunity it presents--and dashes off her reply quickly:
This evening after rehearsals would work well, if that is convenient for you, Master. Tomorrow morning would also do as we do not have rehearsals at all and I am free until an evening outing with Meg.
His reply is short but he agrees to see her that evening and she makes her excuses after rehearsal, begging off of Meg and Jammes' invitation to dinner and returning to her dressing room. She locks the door and takes a seat at her vanity to wait, faintly nervous in a way she hasn't been before and knowing it's because of her not-quite-a-plan to learn more about her secretive teacher. But there's excitement, too. She's always had an appreciation for the mysterious and dark, and clandestine lessons with a masked stranger certainly qualified. A little excitement was to be expected, was it not?