"I cannot go. I feel sick," I told Erik as we were about to enter La Fenice. He paused and lowered his head to look me in the eyes.
"To confess, so do I, but it's time to end this nightmare. Still, if you don't wish to go, I will return you to the care of our gondolier, and he will take you someplace safe. You don't have to do this."
"No. I will stay with you."
"You are brave, my angel," he smiled at me. His bright blue eyes sparkled, and I read so much emotion in them. It broke my heart.
He nodded for us to continue, and I took his arm, ready to join the crowd. Erik was already wearing his disguise -- a large black mask paired with the heavy make up and a brown wig. It successfully concealed his deformity. He was also wearing a long black cloak with a large hood which he tossed over his head once we entered.
I handed in our invitation, greeted the familiar ticket seller, and pulled out a single red rose from a basket. It was silly being a guest at the place where I usually worked, but it was also fun... Or it would be, if I didn't know what was to happen tonight.
I lowered my eyes to see a black ribbon tied around my rose's stem. I looked at the other ladies, but only my rose had such a decoration.
"How did you..."
"I have my ways," Erik smiled, lifting my spirits a little.
The Teatro was selling black, hooded cloaks as an optional addition to disguise, and many men bought them, while some, like Erik, arrived already masked. It made it easier to hide, and I wondered if our enemy was somewhere nearby, observing us.
"Venetians take their masquerades seriously," I whispered to keep my mind off darker things.
"Of course. I told you this will happen. They jumped at the first chance to play, now that the somber Lent has passed," Erik said.
"Is that how you convinced the management to do it?"
"A few well-placed words can do wonders... The idea to have the male visitors masked was anything but my own," he smirked, then hid his face deeper within the hood.
I liked him like this, confident and at ease... Of course, the latter was merely an illusion. His arm's muscles were tense beneath my fingers, and his alertness made me even more nervous. Oh, God, help me. How will I do this? I felt sick with indecision and fear.
What Teggio demanded of me was so very simple, and yet so difficult to do. There was still time to confess every detail to Erik, but I was afraid of the consequences.
I wasn't a fool to keep everything a secret, and I had told Erik of the visit, but acted calmly, downplaying how much it upset me, because I didn't want him to lose control and do something rash.
Erik, Teggio knows who you are. He was here to tell me that I am safe, and to announce his vengeance on you. He wants me to sing at the gala. He wants to provoke you... You must not worry about me. -- I had said.
I did not tell him that Teggio gave me a choice -- if I myself can destroy Erik, he will let him live. He wanted Erik's suffering even more than he wanted his death.
It was a torturous choice: I could believe that Erik will outplay our enemy, and do nothing, or I could play it safe to spare my love's life, but then I would be signing a surrender even before we have a chance to fight. Either way, I could end up regretting my choice forever.
"Christine," Erik's voice called out to me, "be brave. My traps are set. Everything will play out as I envisioned."
I nodded woodenly, trusting him and fearing the worst at the same time. Erik refused to share the specifics of his plan, saying that knowing things might make me act differently than he anticipated and thus ruin the plan.
As we walked through the grand foyer, I twirled my rose, murmured greetings, and made a few introductions between Erik and some other music lovers, many of whom paraded as Don Juan. Even some women were dressed up like Aminta. Wine was served freely, fueling the atmosphere with excitement and some abandon.
"Signor, I would place a bet that the view from our box is much superior to box seven," I heard Erik's voice through the noise of my own thoughts.
"Nonsense," one of the patrons replied, responding to the jest.
"Would you care to see for yourself? I propose we switch our seats," Erik goaded him. The man had to know that our box was better, if he was a regular visitor.
"You are being silly," the man shook his finger at Erik, and I cringed, awaiting Erik's reaction.
"And you, my dear, are foxed from all the wine," a lady interjected smoothly. "If you insist, Mr. Dessler, we will graciously take advantage of your offer -- that is, if miss Daae agrees?" she said, looking at me.
"Why not? Let men play their games," I smiled politely, and so it was settled.
"What was that about?" I asked Erik.
"A detail. An additional element of surprise."
Just then, the signal was given that the opera is about to begin. The richest people flocked to their boxes and the others to their floor seats. Following along, I retook Erik's arm in the crowd, so we calmly walked to our new box and made ourselves comfortable. My heart was beating wildly, but I kept still. The first act I was just to watch.
"Should I worry about..." I whispered, but Erik motioned me to keep silent.
The curtain rose. And then the music struck, powerful and discordant, shocking the audience into surprised silence which was soon spiked with murmurs, only to slowly settle into silence again. Don Juan, Aminta and Passarino played their roles, comical, treacherous, passionate. Miss Lavizzi couldn't fully grasp the role of Aminta with her vocal limitations, but this was probably lost on half of the audience. I kept glancing toward our original box, and was relieved to see nothing was amiss. The last thing I wanted was to have set some random people into being attacked instead of us.
The curtain fell. This was it. The true drama was to begin now.
The thoughts played themselves back and forth in my head while I twirled the rose until its twig snapped. What should I do, once I reach that stage? I could only pray that Erik will have everything under control before I am forced to act.
I looked at him, sitting beside me all cloaked like death incarnate, and I whispered: "I love you."
That very moment, before he had a chance to react, a woman who served as miss Lavizzi's assistant entered our box.
"Ah, so there you are! Miss Daae, a nasty thing has happened. Miss Lavizzi has fallen ill. We found her unconscious behind the stage."
"What happened?"
"I don't know. Perhaps she was struck on her head, but there is no sign of trauma. In any case, we failed to wake her. You better get ready to take her place. The manager sent me."
Erik squeezed my hand reassuringly, letting me know that all was well. He was just a silent presence, but he still served as my anchor.
"Of course," I've heard myself saying to the woman.
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