At the Opera House

Chapter 3: The Dance

Erik's gloved hands grasped hers, Christine placed one at her waist and held the other firmly.

"Do you see the box?" She asked. "Along with the 1, 2, 3, etc?"

He nodded, hands tight around hers.

"Very well, I'll go backwards first. One, two, three, begin."

Christine stepped backwards, and Erik's foot swiftly followed. She continued to count out loud as they slowly made their way across the room.

Erik managed surprisingly well, Christine noted as they waltzed slowly around the stage. He was hardly a star dancer but she suspected it was only a matter of a lack of practice.

"It's easier if you don't look at your feet." She advised at one moment, Erik nodded and locked his eyes at the space above her head. She heard him counting as well under his breath.

Christine's skillful guided his clumsy ones and soon he was dancing quite well. She pulled away after a few minutes and curtsied, Erik returned a short bow.

"Not so bad once you get the hang of it?" Christine said, "You really did quite well. I'm impressed."

"Who taught you to waltz so well?" Erik asked. "You do it as well as any noble. I have never seen you waltz before."

"My father taught me." Christine answered. "We used to dance all the time. I still do, sometimes, with The Girls." The Girls were all the ballet dancers, whom with Christine made a special point of being on good terms with all of them, as difficult as it was sometimes.

"No doubt so that they can impressive their lovers." Erik said dryly, giving an exasperated sigh.

"Hilarious." Christine shot right back. "Most are just curious. Though many love to imagine themselves as a lady in a ball I'm sure. But then, who wouldn't?"

"Forgive me for disagreeing. But I have no interests in picturing myself in a full gown and corset, dancing across the floor with an eligible gentlemen."

Christine choked trying to halt her laughter. "Allow me to clarify, what young women wouldn't like to imagine themselves in a ball." She grinned. "Dreams that I find rather nice, quite honestly." Christine lamented, setting a hand on her hip. "Though I've heard that while the dancing may be pleasant, they are very hot and the conversation is dull unless you happen to stumble upon a rare quick witted gentlemen or lady."

"And you have formed these opinions on your own experience." Erik said, she could practically see the quirked eyebrow beneath the mask.

"So I have heard." Christine again corrected.

"You have never been to a ball." Erik said slowly, as if to confirm the fact.

"No, I have not." Christine said, then shrugged. "No great loss, I'm sure. Now here-" She held out her hands. "We have talked long enough, let us try again."

Erik took her hands, and continued to count under his breath as they moved across the stage.

"Christine." He asked abruptly, and they danced.

"Hmm?"

"I wish to apologize again for neglecting to fetch the music for our lessons."

Christine smiled, "It is of no great importance. My voice will not vanish overnight." her head tilted to the side. "You seem greatly troubled by it. Might I ask why you forgot it?"

Erik hesitated, he misstepped, but Christine righted the dance quickly. "I have been composing an Opera." He admitted.

"Oh!" Christine laughed, but inside she felt a moment of panic. "That's wonderful."