Captivity Defined

Chapter Two

Christine walked quickly down the long hallways, waiting until she was sure that no one was around before lifting her skirts up slightly and running to the chapel, where her Angel instructed her.

No sooner had she put one foot in the room did she hear her Angel's voice.

Slow down, my dear. It is quite unladylike to be running throughout the halls of an opera house.

Christine immediately stopped and walked the rest of the way into the room, her chest heaving from the exertion of having run so far. She looked around the room, hoping that today would be the day her Angel would reveal himself to her, but it was not so. Immediately her hope was shattered as she saw the empty room, with no sign of an Angel anywhere.

You may put down your skirts now, my dear Christine. That is, only if you are quite finished running. If you are not, then I suggest that you keep them up, lest you fall.

The tone of voice her Angel used sounded quite amused by this, and Christine found herself blushing as she slowly opened her small fists to let the material that had been clenched tightly in her hands drop down to cover her ankles once again. She took in a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly to calm her rapidly-beating heart.

Would you care to explain your reasons to me as to why you are late?

Her Angel's voice was back to the stern, authoritative, and mysterious tone she had known since she had been a little girl. She resisted the strong urge to get on her knees and beg his forgiveness. He would most certainly not find that amusing, not in the slightest. "There was this note, and-"

I did not ask to hear useless, inadequate excuses Christine. I want an honest, tangible reason as to what in this world would be more important than your future career.

"I'm telling the truth, Angel!" She insisted stubbornly, looking around the room to find where exactly the voice was, even though it sounded as if it were all over the room at once. "There was this note that had my name on it, written in such an elegant handwriting... And a red rose. A beautiful red rose in full bloom, with a silky black ribbon tied around its stem..." Her voice had taken on a dreamy sigh, which her Angel most certainly did not appreciate.

Enough! Christine I would have expected you to be above the mere thought of accepting a suitor, and this act betrays everything that I have ever taught you!

Christine flinched at the snappy, frustrated tone her Angel used with her. Tears started forming at the corner of her emerald eyes, threatening to spill out over her eyelids and down her cheeks. "I-I'm sorry Angel.." She whispered, one of the tears overflowing her eyelid and lightly racing across her high left cheekbone and down the smooth skin of her cheek.

Her Angel sighed, and what a heavenly sound even that simple thing was. Everything about her Angel was heavenly, his voice being the very definition of perfect. Even in anger it still held that smooth-as-honey heavenly tone that had captivated Christine as a little girl.

Do not cry, Christine. It is most unbecoming of you.

The voice was softer now, any traces of anger in it moments before having simply disappeared.

Now tell me my dear, what have I informed you as to what I expect of you when it concerns taking a suitor?

Christine wiped the tear away, and spoke softly, lest she should evoke her Angel's unbearable wrath again. "That I must never look a gentleman in the eye after he has informed me of his intentions, but politely decline his offer and turn away, to never speak to him again beyond a casual conversation. When I receive gifts from someone that hopes to court me, I am to return the gifts and tell him I belong to another."

That is right, my dear. You do indeed belong to another. Music is the very center of your life, and you are a slave to it until you have mastered it. It must come first and foremost above all else. It must take complete and total control of your life, your every word be a testimony to possessing this beautiful gift. Should you turn away from it, for even a portion of a second, it may choose to withdraw from you forever, forcing me to leave you and teach another, who is more worthy of the gift of music than you.

"No! Please Angel I beg of you never to leave me! I promise that I will never be late again, I promise with all my heart! Just please don't leave me..." Her voice had taken on a desperate, pleading tone as she begged her Angel of Music to never leave her.

Hush, my child. I am not going to leave you, I was simply reminding you of the consequences that would take place should you let anything else take the place of music.

Christine clasped her hands together in eternal gratitude, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you Angel. I promise I will never let anything replace music, and that I am truly sorry."

Am I supposed to believe you? This is not the first time you have been late to a lesson and have had no true reason. You must prove to me that you truly are sorry.

"How?" She asked confused.

You must promise me that you will give your very soul to me; to music. Do you promise, Christine?

"I promise." She answered solemnly.

She had no clue as to the extend of what exactly she promised.. She had promised her very soul, her everything, to him.

A pair of golden eyes glinted in the darkness, narrowed slightly in satisfaction. She was his now. She belonged to him, and no one else. He had not forced her to say it. She had promised him, of her own accord.

A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Christine was his. Forever.