The Phantom Ascending |✔| [Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction]

Apologies

I walked with a lighter step ever since that evening in Erik's study, but the shadow of the upcoming premiere still loomed above us.

It was easier for me to meet with Erik now that I didn't have to pretend that I'm all alone in the house, but even so, he spent a lot of time being too busy to sing with me. He was writing letters, shutting himself up in the attic, disappearing in the evenings... It made me a little nervous, because it was a constant reminder of the danger ahead of us, but at the same time it showed me that he was doing his best to be ready if -- when -- Piangi's son spreads his trap.

As for my servants, they all remained except for Cara, one of the maids. The housekeeper informed me that the girl only showed up to get her letter of recommendation and the pay, and that was the last I saw of her.

But not the last I've heard of her.

Apparently Cara talked widely about why she had to seek new employment, lest someone think it was her fault. Either way, within days I was officially considered to be Erik Dessler's mistress, and the story even made it to some of the gossip columns. I did not care. At the theater, I held my head high, ignoring meaningful looks and the grins. Heavens, it was only two days until the premiere -- didn't they have better things to do?

Manelli gave me a rueful smile when I entered his office.

"My dear miss Daae... So it is as I have suspected all along. I just hope that no matter what happens, you will take care and be happy."

"Thank you," I said, relieved at his friendly tone.

"Now, I have called you up because I've been asked to give you a new contract to sign. It eliminates La Fenice as the intermediary that leases house to your name, and reverts its full ownership to Mr. Dessler. With such blatant rumors surrounding you, the management simply refuses to pay him for the use of the house, even if the price he asked of us was fairly small."

"I understand. To be fair, you never needed to pay for my housing in the first place."

"Nonsense, my dear. It was a fairly drawn agreement at the time when we desperately needed a new soprano of star quality."

"And you don't anymore?" I asked. He sighed in frustration.

"Our manager seems to think his niece also qualifies for it, and that Don Juan will launch her to greatness. The man's place is in the office, as you well know, and nowhere near the stage, but I can't exactly tell him that."

Manelli ruffled his graying hair in frustration, and then shrugged, as if saying -- what can I do? -- before handing me the paper. I looked at the offered contract and relaxed. The pay was smaller, but still a fair sum, one that would allow me to keep the house fully staffed without touching my savings. I signed it without a word, and just then, someone knocked.

It was a young man who doubled as Manelli's assistant and played in the orchestra as one of the violins. He was talented and kind, and I liked him, even if we rarely talked.

"Good day, miss Daae. Signor Manelli? The masks have just been delivered. Shall I leave them in your office, sir?" he said, bringing in a large box.

"Why on earth would you stack them in here? My office is not a warehouse!"

The young man -- Will, I remembered -- looked confused.
"Your instruction mentioned you'd pick a few to send them along with the invitations to the gala."

"I did? Must have slipped my mind from all the work. Leave that one box, take the rest to the tickets office. I trust you won't saddle me with the roses as well?"