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: B s . A A A    : full 3/4 1/2   : E E   : Light Dark Books » Phantom of the Opera » Glass Castle

xbreathlessx
Author of 1 Story

Rated: T - English - Romance/General - Christine & Erik - Reviews: 35 - Updated: 07-22-09 - Published: 01-31-08 - id:4045169

Arrival

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Christine’s breath hitched in her throat as she heard the horns start blaring, announcing that she had arrived. She felt the carriage slow, and above the roar of the horns she heard a deep grating sound; she assumed it was the gates being lifted so she could enter. She had finally arrived. She longed to look outside her carriage window, but fear and apprehension had paralyzed her. All too soon, her carriage jolted to a stop and the door was opened, allowing a ray of blinding sunlight to flood her senses. Christine took a deep breath and stepped out, holding the hand of her coach man in a death grip, it was the only thing that kept her standing as she looked around her new home.

---

Queen Gwendolyn watched from the steps of her castle as her son’s bride stepped from her carriage. Her eyes were starting to fail her as she continued to age, and she was a small distance away, but even she could see the girl’s obvious beauty. A sinister smile danced over her lips, her plan was working out in a way she couldn’t have even dreamt! She watched as the nervous girl was led up to her, and she tried her best to put a warm smile on her hateful face.

“Hello, my dear girl, and welcome to Nothvale!” Happy shouts and applause followed the queen’s welcome, as everyone had now heard about the arrival and gathered to watch.

Christine was still trembling as she reached the steps and she heard her future mother-in-law’s greeting. She bowed her head low, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Now that the girl was up close, the queen examined her more thoroughly. She was obviously Flerian, she was shorter than the other girls, and her body lacked the strong build of the Nothvale people. Most notable was her rich brown hair that hung loose around her shoulders in perfect curls. The woman of Nothvale never had such dark hair; even the few brunettes could not boast such a dark color. Well, of course there was one other in Nothvale with such dark hair, but Gwendolyn did not dwell on him.

“I am so glad you are finally here child, there is much to get you ready for.” The queen smiled again, but Christine silently noticed that the mirth did not extend to her eyes.

---

Nicolette sat outside in the palace gardens, her heart heavy. The castle was far from empty, but without her Christine flowing through the place like a spring breeze it seemed oddly dead to her. Even the roses that bloomed around her seemed to have lost their luster since the departure of her daughter. Nicolette was drawn from her sad spell by Bayard’s arrival.

“Yes?” She asked without looking at her advisor.

“A letter has arrived, Your Majesty, from the Queen of Nothvale.”Bayard said with a deep bow as he handed his queen the letter.

She anxiously snatched the letter. It had been a week since Christine left, meaning that she must have just arrived. Why had the Nothvale queen written to her again? Had she rejected the treaty?

Nicolette’s blue eyes turned to slits as she read the short letter and she crumpled it in rage.

---

Meg let out a frustrated huff. She was sitting beneath a large tree, an open book in her hands, “This is hopeless Raoul!”

Raoul turned his attention from the letter he was writing to glance up at the blonde, “No, it’s not hopeless. Christine asked me to teach you to read, and I will! Now look here, ‘ch’ makes a ‘chuh’ sound, like ‘chair.’ Really, it isn’t hard once you learn…”

Meg brushed some fallen blonde hair out of her eyes and sighed again, trying to solidify her patience as she listened to Raoul recite his lessons again.

---

Christine followed the queen and her array of guards and servants into the grand castle. The place was stunning, albeit different, and Christine tried to drink it all in as she was quickly ushered along. Along the walls there were brilliant tapestries and statues, one wall was covered in a marbled painting. Christine tried to pause to look at it, but she was hastily hurried along.

Finally she came to rest in a grand hall. The queen said something about attending to some political matters, but Christine barely heard her. Her attention was wholly placed on the large portrait that hung on the wall above her.

It was obviously a portrait of the queen in her younger days, but what captured Christine’s attention was the two boys, young men, in the painting with her. She had one on her left side and her right, and both were beautiful. The one of the right had golden hair and eyes so green that they would put any jewel to shame. Christine had once read a book of Greek mythology, and she knew that before her eyes was the mortal image of Apollo. As beautiful as he was, Christine’s eyes were drawn to the boy on the left.

His eyes caught Christine’s attention. They remaindered her of a wild cat. They were a golden color, like a jar of honey held up to the sun. His hair was dark, and it fell down across his face, making a stark contrast between lightness and darkness and giving him a rather mischievous, though charming, look. She wondered how much of the portrait had been enhanced by the artist and how much was the true likeness of the two men.

Christine had no idea who they were; her only clue was the armor they wore in the painting. She was about to ask one of the servants standing beside her when she heard a familiarly shrill voice pierce the air.

“I see you have not learned yet how to dress properly.” Christine whipped her head down from the breath taking painting to stare at Mistress Hollis, “Oh well, we shall fix that soon enough. Come with me.”

Christine was then hurried from the grand hall, her destination unbeknownst to her. She allowed herself one backwards glance at the portrait, and out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw someone dart in the shadows of the balcony above her.

---

Christine found that she had been whisked into what could only be called as a torture chamber disguised as a cosmetician’s. In a flurry of motion she felt her dress being tugged from her as her body was dropped into a bath of freezing water. She gasped as the ice water stung her nerves.

“The cold water will bring out a rosy hue.” Mistress Hollis squawked as she oversaw the beautifying operation.

Christine shivered as she eyed the woman, hate coursing through her veins. Two maids appeared and poured in some scented oils. Christine barely noticed as the floral scents wafted through the air. Next the two girls furiously scrubbed her body with salts.

“Ouch!” Christine cried through chattering teeth, but her exclamation fell on deaf ears.

Finally, she was pulled from the tub. Christine tried to cover her naked body with her arms, but the two maids who had given her the ‘bath’ yanked them from her as they started painting a thick, warm crème-like substance over her body.

“This will remove your hair dear. It may sting…” Mistress Hollis said as Christine turned her confused eyes towards her.

Christine opened her mouth to ask more about the substance but instead she let out a loud yelp as one of the girls ripped the now dried cream from one of her legs. Christine felt her blue eyes fill with stinging tears and she prayed for her horrible ideal to end quickly.

---

“VINCENT!” Erik roared as he tore across the grounds to the guard station. He banged the door open, startling some of the off duty guardsmen, who clumsily tried to salute the prince as his wild eyes searched the room, “WHERE IS HE?” He roared.

“My Lord?” Vincent inquired as he calmly walked down from the upper story of the station.

“Pleasant? PLEASANT!? That is the word you used to describe her!?” Erik bellowed. He had watched from the shadows as the girl entered his castle. He followed her train to the great hall, where he observed as she gazed at the famous portrait. He was sure he did not breathe once as he watched her; her beauty had stolen that ability from him.

“I apologize if I mislead you My Lord, it was not intentional.” Vincent stated calmly, not at all surprised at his prince’s reaction to the girl, “I found her appearance in no way offending-“

“YOU KNEW DAMN WELL SHE WAS AN ANGEL!” Erik roared knocking one of the tables inside the small room over in his anger, sending the two guards he had scared early flying from the room. Miserably, Erik collapsed into the now vacant chair, “That was why she did it. That evil woman knew she was an Angel, and she brought her here to torture me.”

Vincent’s face fell as he heard the despair in his friend’s voice. He didn’t say anything; he simply closed the remaining distance between himself and his prince and clasped a strong hand on his trembling shoulder.

---

Christine was exhausted. She had spent over three ghastly hours being ‘pampered.’ Finally she was allowed to look in the mirror, and she barely recognized herself.

Her chocolate curls had been washed and soaked in scented oil, and then pinned onto her head in a beautiful up-do. Her hair shone like she had embers of fire in it. Her heavy eyelashes had been painted and lined with black kohl, magnifying the blue of her eyes to a degree she didn’t think possible. Then Mistress Hollis had picked out a dark burgundy dress edged with gold, the colors of Nothvale.

“Now you look fit to be a Princess.” Mistress Hollis said as she handed Christine a pair of satin gloves.

---

Nicolette stormed through her castle, her rage uncontainable. She had been duped. She had traded her only daughter blindly. Her darling Christine, a lamb led to the slaughter by her own mother. She was aware that Bayard was in the room with her, but he allowed her fury to fume without interruption. She knew he had read the letter once she had thrown it on the ground, and she knew that he was in just as shocked at the twist fate had just taken.

Finally, Nicolette’s fury faded to sorrow and she collapsed into a chaise, her mournful sobs permeating the air. Bayard stepped forward nervously and placed a consoling hand on his queen’s back, his heart breaking with every wracking sob.

---

After her beauty session, Christine was shown to her rooms and informed that her new ladies-in-waiting would arrive within moments. And they did.

Three girls, none of them any older than Christine bustled into the room within moments of her own arrival. They introduced themselves as Justine, Elizabeth and Georgina. Christine felt shy under their curious eyes. All three of them were taller than her, not by much, but by enough to make her feel even less comfortable than she already did. Elizabeth and Justine had blonde hair and Georgina a mixture of red and gold, and they all crooned over how lucky she was to have such dark hair. They remarked on how petite she was, and Christine knew what they really meant was she was too slim. They were all plumper than her, causing them to have more womanly curves. Christine felt like a cow brought to market. She knew they were assessing her, determining if they thought her beautiful enough, worthy enough. Christine was suddenly very thankful at a knock at the door. The grand feast was beginning. Christine was led to the banquet hall, followed by her ladies, and their whispers.

---

Gwendolyn watched as Princess Christine entered the room, as did everyone else seated at the huge table. She was a sight to see, to be sure! The two maids and Mistress Hollis had done a wonderful job and preparing her for the feast, which included all the nobles in the region and their servants. The queen waited for Christine as she was led to her seat of honor next to the queen herself. She noticed without surprise that the seat on her left, Erik’s, was empty. The queen offered a false smile at the obviously petrified child as she rose.

“I propose a toast!” She said, raising her golden drinking glass. The others seated at the table quickly raised theirs, “To my future daughter. May she find nothing but happiness in her new home, and may her presence bring peace at last!” Gwendolyn took a long sip of her wine, and her subjects quickly answered in hearty ‘here here’s’ and sipped their own wine.

Christine turned as red as a rose as all the attention was once again focused on her. She was afraid to eat, because she knew all eyes were upon her, but she knew that if she didn’t, she would surely faint from over exhaustion and under nourishment. She took tiny bites of the savory food before her, and although her stomach begged her to satisfy it fully she feigned fullness after just one coarse. Between her tiny bites she roamed the table, searching for any indication that her fiancé was in the crowd. Surely he must be, but why had he failed to introduce himself?

After the feast Christine was led back to her chambers and bid farewell to her ladies. A servant came and helped undress and brushed down her long hair. As she closed the door behind her, Christine breathed a sigh of relief. She was alone. She longed for nothing more than to climb into her new strange bed and go to sleep, but first she sat at the desk in the corner and penned a note to her mother. She sealed it with the still foreign looking crest of Nothvale and stifled a yawn, at last giving into her desires and climbing into her bed.

---

Just down the hall, Erik gave up trying to sleep. He knew that he would receive none. He sighed as he left his bed, putting back on a shirt and pants. Silent as a ghost, he wandered down through the castle and out to the horse stables.



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