After my horrid fall, I landed on my bottom with a start. The room echoed with my loud 'THUD', and I sheepishly and slowly raised my head to meet his eyes.
His eyebrows were raised, but the sneer still decorated his lips and I inwardly sighed. Once again, I waited for his offered hand. He never offered it. This was just plain rude. When I, very ungracefully I may add, rose from the floor my mother let out a resigned sigh that was practically a groan. Throwing her arms up in defeat, she left the room.
"Wait, Madame Jules!" He yelled after her, and my mother turned her wide eyes on him. How long had it been since she'd been called by my father's name? Too long.
They shared a moment before he said,"Thank you." She nodded and fled. Then, his dark eyes turned upon me. Their dark honey colour had become a dark black, and I recoiled.
"Mlle. Giry," He nodded to me, holding out his hand.
"Sir Gubler," I said, with a curtsy, and he planted a half-hearted kiss on my hand.
"Baron Gubler,"Said he curtly.
"Oh,"I replied stupidly. How many times had I called to him "Sir Gubler?"? I sighed. He'd never corrected me before. Oh, wait, I wasn't me. This sucks.
"...Shall we?"He asked rather meekly, but he could not keep his disdain for me out of his tone.
I nodded to him.
He lead me out on to the floor and took my wrist in his hand to write his name all over my dance card, then he glanced at the clock.
"The next dance doesn't start til 30 minutes,"He whispered hurriedly," Excuse me," and of course, he left me alone on the floor.
I sat in a near chair, men asked for my hand and I replied depressingly that my card was full. The thirty minutes passed with ease, then another, then another. The clock chimed at every hour, ringing in my ears mocking me. He had left me. Left me alone.
No. I knew where he was.
I fled to the roof as quickly as I could, only to stop dead, to watch him, to watch the frozen tears slide down his cheeks.
"She is not coming," I said into the storm. He, not expecting me, turned abruptly.
"She'd be here by now if she really loved you."
"You don not know her!"He yelled to me.
"I'm not saying,"I began gently,"that she doesn't love you. What I'm saying is, something came up. She could not meet you. And, if she loves you, as you love her, she will cry into her pillow all night long."
"...And you?" he asked,"Do you have a secret lover?"
I looked a my feet.
"He loves me," I whispered as he drew nearer,"Or, he will."
Part of him knew I was speaking of him, but he wasn't putting two and two together.
"This is a show," he stated incredulously,"So let us put on good one,"
He let me put my hand on the crook of his arm, and as we fled the roof, he stole one glance back.
But that was enough to break my heart.
***
The next morning was the same as it had been for as long I could remember. I finished practice with corps de ballet. So, I wandered the foyer of the opera house. Tired, I stalked the house in my white gown like a ghost. Jammes gave me a little sneer as I passed her in the hall once, and Sorelli had turned up her nose to me back stage. What was happening?
The only thing really weighing on my mind was Matthew. My Matthew. What had happened? He knew me. He of all people knew the real me. But, I had been wrong. He only knew the mask that was on my face, not me. He didn't know me the way I knew every detail of his face, his light brown eyes that held glints of black, his high cheek bones and breathless white smile. My Matthew....
Now he loathed me.
I sat in a chair in the foyer and I saw something, and my heart stopped. There, on the desk for reading in the parlor, was a book. A thick, green book. I had read it several times. He, on the other hand, less than half-way through. I let out a moan.
"Whose is it?" cried Joesph Boquet.
I simply stared, he gave one strange look at the young Giry girl before proclaiming "Whose is it! If no one claims it, it shall go to the Comte DeChagny's Library!"
"It is mine!" The voice was weak and feeble and I hardly recognized it as I flew out of my seat. Joesph walked toward me and placed the worn novella into my hands. I ran my thumb over the cover, remember his strong, warm hands had held it.
Boquet returned to readying the house for the gala tonight. One of first of the season. It seemed to be dredging on forever.
Then, something clicked into my mind.
"Matthew..."
Mother did not mention the gala tonight in my schedule for the day. I was free! To do as I please! And I wanted only one thing...
In my room, I ran to my wardrobe and pulled out my black mask. Tears floated in my eyes, but I wiped them away. As I placed the mask on my face, I knew where Matthew was to be tonight, not he planned it, but God himself. I was to be with my Matthew once more.
***
"You have come," said he as the snow swirled in the air and caught on his hair and his lashes.
"As if I could stay away," I pleaded, keeping a safe distance from him.
He tried to close the distance between us, but I took a step back. His eyes showed his longing, but he questioned me not.
"I have missed you so my dear," he whispered into the storm.
"And I you,"
Once more, he tried to come to me, and I knew his intent.
"Please," he begged,"I can no longer stand it. I must know you name."
I shook my head, my blonde hair was leached in the moonlight, making it the colour of snow, and it flew as my head shook.
"I am sorry, truly, I am. I can not tell you,"
"Please," he begged once more, trying to come nearer to pull of the mask. I, now on the stair well in my attempt at retreat, stood pleading as well.
"I can not," I whispered.
"Why, mademoiselle? Why do you taunt me so, mistress?"
"We both have our own lives!" I screamed, no longer holding in my feelings,"If we do this, the lives we live now are shattered. We come to each other to entice in our world of fantasy, to leave the reality we face, but if my dear, we become each other's reality. And the true ecstasy of our love is over. Do you want that?"
He merely meekly took a step forward and took my gloved hands in his.
"I know I will love you forever."
His promise rang in my ears, leaving them ringing. I retreated down the stair well, through the opera house and into my chamber. His promise. But, what he didn't know was this:
He had already broken that promise
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