Love Unveiled

Prologue

10 years ago...

Christine successfully snuck out of the de Chagny manor.  How they still had it, Christine couldn't tell you. Christine tried desperately to find the good in him. There just had to be some left. Christine never sang anymore and she missed it terribly. When she would try Raoul would yell and tell her not to.

And tomorrow, she was to be be wed to him. Yes, 'tis true. Tomorrow she would no longer be Mademoiselle Christine Daae but Vicomtesse Christine de Chagny would be her title. And she would try to wear it as best as she could. But whatever happened tonight, she wasn't sure what was going to be.

On her way, she wondered why she was doing this. What will happen? What would the reaction possibly be? She didn't know and it scared her just a little bit. But this is a certain scared feeling and she liked it. It always reminded her of her once beloved Angel of Music.

After days and weeks of thinking and stringing things together, she thinks she finally found where she longed to be. She hoped she did.

Upon arriving at the small, dark cottage on the outskirts of Paris, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

While she waited and hoped for someone to answer the door she looked around the quaint place. It seemed just like the Opera Ghost. the walls looked even darker than they probably were due to the moonless sky. The door was painted a dark black and had a gold knob. It was also perfectly secluded. That was already known to her, though. The long time to find him, the extended walk, alone, through the woods. It was Him.

After knocking a few more times and receiving no answer, she turned the golden knob on the off chance it was unlocked. It was not. She knocked again but to no avail. The wind picked up and she was worried her lantern would go out. She walked around the house and found a back door behind climbing vines. She pushed away the beautiful greenery and found the back door. Just to be, somewhat, polite-despite the fact she was going to walk in uninvited-she knocked once more. No answer. She put her hand on the knob and whispered to herself, "Please. Please be open."

With another breath, she turned the nob. It was open!

"Thank you," She said to no one in particular.
She refrained from doing her happy dance and walked into the cottage.

She entered the small home on alert. Not of fear but of... search. The place was a mess! The back door led straight into the dining room and kitchen. Papers were scattered all over the place, ink was spilled on the table. She walked to the mess on the table. The spilled ink was fairly new, which meant someone was here.
She continued to walk around. Out of the dining and kitchen area was the living room. A grand piano, black as night, stood in the very corner of the room. Other instruments were around the room. A violin, a harp was in other corner, which she found interesting, a mandolin and a guitar. Oh, and a cello. Those are few she recognised. She walked to the piano and ran her delicate hand across the frame. She traced the keys, not playing them but admiring. The music sheets that sat above the black and white keys was scribbled over. Frustration was obviously shown in the penmanship. On top of the piano was a letter.

Dear Erik...

Erik? Is that his name? She felt embarrassed at herself that she didn't even think of him having a name. He was always her Angel of Music. She didn't read the contents off the letter out of respect of his privacy but, her curious little mind wanted to know who sent the letter.

Yours, Nadir.

Who on earth could 'Nadir' be? She never heard the name before. She didn't see it written anywhere either.
"Christine?" A rather husky voice asked from behind her.