Captivity Defined

Chapter One

A single red rose, tied intricately with silky black ribbon, lay on the vanity table. A note was next to it, the words written in elegantly slanted handwriting. The ink was a lusty shade of crimson, almost as if it the pen had been dipped in blood instead of ink.
Mademoiselle
Christine Daaé
That's all it said. There was nothing else on the note that would give away any hint or clue as to who it was that had left her the rose.
Christine furrowed her brow slightly and ran her fingers delicately over the note. The ink was dry, which meant that the rose and note had been in here for at least thirty minutes.

She turned her gaze to the red rose, which was truly entrancing in all of its majestic beauty and perfectly crimson petals. The blossom itself was in full bloom, and when Christine picked it up she noticed that all the thorns had been neatly trimmed off. Raising the flower to her nose, she inhaled its sweet smell and closed her eyes, savouring the calming feeling it sent throughout her body.

She breathed in deeply through her nose, inhaling it's sweet scent one more time before gently setting it back down on the table and picking up the note. As she read the simple words written, Christine tried to think of whom her mysterious Gift Giver could be.

It couldn't be anyone important, for no one that was on a high ring of the social ladder would dare to even take a second glance at her, a simple chorus girl. Being a chorus girl put her in a pretty low position on the musical totem pole, so it had to be either a stage hand or someone even worse off than that. But who? Who would even know her well enough to know where her room was? She had never talked to anyone very long.

Christine considered herself to be an introvert, and Meg was always telling her that her shyness would one day cause her to not get her beloved Prince Charming because she wouldn't dare to open my mouth and speak to a guy for longer than five seconds. So obviously she wasn't going to find out who her Giver of Gifts was, because she didn't know him.

Christine lifted the rose to her nose again, and inhaled its calming scent. Whoever had brought her this had to have known that red roses were her favourite out of any flower. But she had never told anyone.... Oh... She had told her Angel...

Christine smiled just thinking of her Angel. He was always there for her, always ready to give advice, always wanting to help her sort out her emotions. But surely he wouldn't have given her this? Angels didn't give tangible gifts did they?

The petals suddenly brushed against Christine's lips and her eyes opened in surprise. She knew it had only happened because her hand had moved, but she thought it rather mystified that it had happened the very same time she was thinking of her Angel.

Thinking of her Angel made her realise that she was late to her lesson.. He would not be pleased! He was never happy when she was a second late for a lesson, even if she could not have helped it. Quickly, she laid the rose back down and swept out the door.

Never once did she feel a certain man's gold-flicked eyes watching her every move from a very unnatural two-way mirror.