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Raoul could see simply from her body language that this was something greatly revealing of the stoic and private woman that they all called ballet mistress. Truth be told, he hadn't expected much to come of this conversation before some fairly insistent verbal force was required; but whether Madame Giry had intended it or not, the vicomte was gleaning some terribly interesting information already.

If he had suspicions that Giry had feelings or at least a sense of protection for the Opera Ghost before, he certainly knew it now. Once more, she was providing a point of view that was not one of an unbiased individual in this situation. Madame Giry was not impartial as perhaps they had thought - she had feelings and affections and she was trying to hide him. Taking this into consideration, Raoul knew this would require some defter work and chose not to restate his opinion of what should be done financially and performance wise for this terror of a man. It did not need to be reminded - she knew.

Yet, she admitted fault for the state of the opera? His curiosity was piqued.

Dropping his voice to a softer and gentler register, he still continued to watch the dark-haired woman. When she paused, he prompted.

"I beg you to continue, Madame..."

((That post made me sad, UP. I didn't wanna come to this point, either. >> ))

She hesitated going on. What good would telling him do? It was not as if he could make things better. Only worse. Antoinette knew that and kicked herself mentally for her emotional sway of tongue. Oh if Erik could heard her with this, he would be infuriated!

For a few moments she said nothing, fearing letting the subject go and fearing it to continue. But either road she took now, she was hurting someone she cared for. But how many people had to die before she realised just what she had done?

No more. No more killing.

Taking a deep breath, she set up a mental wall for all other thoughts beyond this particular memory. And Madame Giry's tale began.

"It was years ago. I myself was but a ballerina, and just a girl. We had all skipped practice because of the carnival in town that month." Antoinette paused, remembering how mad the Ballet Mistress at that time had been. A wry smile crossed her face for but a moment. "You would not believe the things we saw once we had all paid our five sous. So many strange things packed under one tent, mingling like some exotic slum. Men who could stretch their eyelids, women with beards who were enormously fat, tumblers who could move their limbs in ways others could not. It was all so frightening and bizarre that we all could not help but stare in pure wonder."

Again she paused, clenching her hands as they begun to shake.

"But it was an attraction that was in a seperate tent that drew the big crowds. The man guarding the entrance enticed us. "Come see!" He told us. "Come see and behold Satan's damned child!" Being the good Catholic girls we were, we all grimaced and allowed ourselves to be led in. People had garbage in their hands, all crowding around a large cage. Oh, the God-awful smell that came from it. Dung and rotted apple cores and even old bits of molded meals were being slung at something within. I moved to the bars, seeing nothing more than a small boy with a bag on his head, trying his best to ignore the names and curses shouted to him as he played with a monkey made from the same material as his head cover."

Antoinette choked on her words, apologizing as she gathered her wits.

"Eventually the man who had led us in entered the cage and, upon the audiences' whim, began to beat the boy with a whip. Everyone laughed but me. Monsieur, you could not believe the face underneath that bag when it was pulled away. It was so sad." Antoinette would not admit to the fearsome qualities of that face. Till her dying breath, she would say she loved that face as any other. "Finally the show ended. I lingered only to see if the boy was all right. Unfortunately, the greedy cage master had gone within again to gather his coins. It was then that the boy noosed him and strangled the life from him. I did not know what to do and, I suppose, neither did he. But when the other carnival folk found out, I did the only thing I could do: I took his hand and ran. We ran until we were back to the Opera House where I led him inside."

And thus her tale wound to its end, her eyes settled on the light from the oil lamp not too far away. "And he has known nothing of life since then except this Opera house. I have cared for him much in the same manner as I have my Meg and then Christine. I hid him away from the world and its cruelties. I cannot say how much longer he would have lived in those conditions! He is a genius! An architect and designer, a magician and composer; a genius Monsieur!"

Her last words held broad tones of desperation. "Oh please Monsieur, do not tell anyone what I have told you! I have betrayed him enough! Please for God's sake, do leave this place!"

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The vicomte gently placed the kerchief she had lent him on the dressing table as he stood. Taking stock of himself, he looked to Madame Giry, feeling slightly insulted by the eventual conclusion of her words.

"As I have already informed you, Madame, I will say nothing of our encounter," he said softly. "You have my word as a de Chagny, which is far more proper and less insulting than monetary bribery, I think. And as for Mademoiselle Daae, I will do as she feels fit."

He wasn't sure how that came across to the ballet mistress - probably smacked of arrogance to her - but he didn't like the idea that Madame Giry thought that she could perhaps influence him through money, for he had more than enough. Of course, here, he didn?t state whether or not he would be directly leaving and felt it was best to smooth over that to reduce the greatest amount of conflict. Phantom or not, he would do whatever was necessary to ensure Christine's comfort and he wasn?t sure if that would entail leaving the opera immediately.

He also bowed to her in a sort of way, consisting mostly of inclining his head toward her.

"Of course not, Madame. I would never dream of keeping you up later than necessary." He smiled faintly to her. "Have a good remainder of the evening."

With no further ado and feeling rather certain in the fact that she was not interested in further pleasantries either, he quietly took his leave and head off to the parts of the Opera he more often frequented. There was determination in his step, pulling himself tall; though he could not help but glance to the darker portions of the halls without some paranoia.

((Yeah, so I have terrible writer's block today, sorry. So, question, do we want to tangle with Christine or pull that fast-forward from the film? Or...?))

((Tell me about it. I feel like I should be mourning or something.))

She bid the Vicomte a well evening--even though she thought it was a little too late to say such--and calmly shut the door behind him. It would make more sense for her to return to the celebration, but she had nothing to be joyous about. Tonight she had helped a man who was love's rival with Erik, and had betrayed Erik by revealing his past to the Viscount. Tonight was not a night of celebration, but of mourning.

In all her years of knowing and caring for Erik, she never gave one thought to the possibility of betrayal. Then again, he had never acted this way before. He acted as if in desperation, which was quite unsettling. Only once had he acted that way, but he had been a little less civilised than she had thought him to be now.

Antoinette had only just turned to sit again when her eyes came upon the same blood red costume, only the death's mask was replaced by the real face which called for the mask. She was not surprised. He had probably heard everything and came to either rid himself of her or settle things in a business-like manner before severing all ties.

Whether he was angry or upset, she could not tell. Sighing, Antoinette moved past him and took her seat back at the bench before her vanity, her cane in her left hand like it was a toy instead of a means to keep herself upright.

"Please," she said with a tired voice, "do sit. I suppose we have much to discuss." In her mind, she could already see the apologizing she would do and the anger he would most likely express to the circumstances now. Antoinette had flipped the odds against him, though she could not tell if it had been done willingly or un.

Wryly, she added, "this is the first time in a long time you have let me see your face, Erik."

She watched him stare at the mask, almost studying it with his critical eye. It was how he looked upon most things, trying to see the imperfections within them as if he were trying to assure himself everything in the world was imperfect. Only now had she revealed herself, too, to be imperfect and full of human flaws.

When he asked why, she had no answer. What could be said that would not be a lie or the absolute truth? There were too few reasons and yet, too many all at once.

Her hands clenched and then loosened, her knuckles showing through the skin as if someone had stretched the flesh across bone and called them hands.

"I..." Her voice weakened, but she coughed a bit to gather her thoughts a second more. "I have no answer for you. For once I cannot say why I did it or what I was thinking. Erik, I have not heard from you in three months. And then you show up tonight, donning something right out of Poe, and you threaten the management and lure the Vicomte into that blasted chamber of mirrors!" Antoinette forced her voice to become calm before she made him any more angry than he probably already was. "I do not know what happened to you in those months, Erik, but I fear you have become someone else entirely. You killed Joseph and you nearly killed the poor de Chagny boy tonight. If you're resorting back to murder, Erik, I cannot help you."

She turned her head away, dabbing her dress's sleeve at her eyes as she had begun to cry.

"I never meant to betray you, you must believe me when I say I had no choice in it. I don't think my protection will work anymore." Her voice cracked at the last sentence, her shoulders shaking. "I still love you like a brother, but I feel as if I do not know who you are anymore. And with that, I do not know where I stand in this war you have started between yourself and the world of opera."

Antoinette then cursed herself. How could she have thought he killed without reason? Why hadn't she thought of the possibility of Joseph starting the fight, Erik's only choice but to end it to save himself? She admitted now to herself she felt like a fool and an utter--oh what was the word?--b***h that she had never thought of it.

She could see he was trying not to cry, and that made her tears run even faster down her face. She had been looking from the wrong angle again and this was where it got her. Antoinette felt like she should beg to be killed.

Slowly she reached out, taking the mask from his hands to set it aside. In replacement she put her own hands in his, feeling them cold despite the gloves he wore and the obvious heat that one should give off from their body.

"Erik," She started sternly, "the world is against those who are born as you are. By our own stupidity, we find imperfections to be a sin. Perhaps one day this theory will die with us, but for now it still stands that you are the minority of this world. I have done what I could for you, but I fail you now as a friend and sister because I thought of you as someone I had never thought you could be." Her voice shook slightly. "I am only human as you are. I have made a mistake and I do not think I could ever take it back. But please do not think me against you. I would sell my soul to Lucifer himself before I turned from you wholly."

Gingerly she leaned forward and placed a small kiss on his marred cheek, sitting back soon afterward as her knee gave indication of giving out beneath her.

"But still I cannot shelter you as before. I will still help you, but now my assistance will be limited if they find out anything from le Vicomte." She let go of his hands, settling her sweated palms in her lap. "I fear he will not keep his promise. If they find out where you live, I can not stop them. Please do remember the escape route I had you build."