Through the Hallways

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Erik

Where is she?

The thought was pulsating through my mind while I kept trying to get rid of an awful, persistent woman who ignored my best efforts to shake her off. Probably an aristocrat, judging from her audacity and the feeling of self-entitlement.

"Madam, I have already told you that I might or might not be who you take me for."

"And that's the intrigue and the joy of the masquerade, sir. Yet I still feel compelled to ask: would you care to guess what might entice Mr. Dessler into taking a lady such as myself as his muse? I wonder if an evening spent in mutual company might do the trick..." she mused, then laughed: "That is, if I knew where to find him."

"Your interest in the man does you both credit, I am sure, although I find myself baffled at why you'd be so entranced by someone you've never personally met."

"Oh, but I have... Very nearly. He once sat in the opera box right next to mine. A dashing man, but he dashed away, too, before I had to chance to get us introduced afterwards. So very frustrating, you know... Though something tells me you might soothe my wounded pride tonight in that regard," she smiled, her lower face visible behind the heavily ornamented eye mask.

She seemed to be a very attractive lady in her late thirties, slightly older than me and, as she had informed me, a widow. I wondered how she'd react if I told her I'd gladly entertain her all night as long as we never take our masks off. Perhaps she'd be excited by the idea... But it mattered not. She was not Christine.

And that snapped me to attention: the dance has ended, but my love was nowhere to be found. I spent an entire evening forcing myself to withhold my objections, to give her freedom to enjoy herself even if I wanted to hypnotize every one of her dancing partners into believing themselves to be donkeys. And now, all I achieved was to lose her from my sight. It was too early to make a scene, but...

"Mr. Dessler? Are you woolgathering?" the lady clucked with her tongue. "You artistic types are always so difficult. Not that I mind," she smiled.

"My dear lady, but this place is positively stuffed with artists tonight, or at least that's what I've been led to believe. Now, I must take my leave of you, though I am charmed."

She shook her head.

"Thank you, but I believe the only person you're charmed with is the one you've been looking for over my shoulder for the past half an hour. Youth before beauty, I suppose," she sniffed theatrically and laughed.

Her manner did amuse me a little, so I took her hand and bowed over it in a pretend kiss.

"You will definitely be the most memorable acquaintance I made tonight. Perhaps I might honor you by dedicating a number in my next opera for you. You will recognize which one, if you attend."

I made that my exit line, and strode to the other end of the ballroom, but I couldn't spot Christine. I walked the perimeter once again, but found nothing, so the best course of action seemed to approach the man with whom I last saw her dance.

"Good evening, sir. May I ask if you know the whereabouts of miss Daae? The slender brunette in a green and gold dress and a matching mask."

"Oh, so it was miss Daae! Is she alright? I thought she left without a word. She was feeling unwell."

"What do you mean, unwell?"

"Just dizzy, I suppose. I led her to a chair and fetched a glass of water, but by the time I returned she was gone."

All the warning bells sounded themselves in my head.

"When was this?" I hissed.

"Oh, over half an hour ago."

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