In My Darkness: La Chatte Noire

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Marcella Merrick

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Marcella Merrick

Three Months, One Week, Five Days, Mireval

"And did you hear? The Populaire has a new patron!"

Camillé nodded, barely paying attention and not listening to the woman, really. She was never fond of these social gatherings, but her mother had insisted that it would be good for her image if she and Daniel attended balls together and she went out to tea with other girls. Camillé knew some of these people from their childhoods, but she was unable to name more than a fourth of them. There were so many people she had to please here and it was, to her at least, absolutely ridiculous. She was sure that somewhere in her brain, La Chatte was just as bored as she was. At least she knew that there was no danger of her coming out. Camillé could not call upon her at will and unless someone said the code-phrase accidentally, there was no chance that La Chatte would return. She was lost in thought when she picked a single phrase out of the conversation around her.

"And they say La Carlotta has left the Populaire!"

Her full attention turned to the woman. "What do you mean, La Carlotta left?"

"I know, it's absolutely shocking! She was the prima donna, and she just walked out!"

'Oh, Erik, what have you done now?' she thought as she leaned forward, "Did they say why?"

The lady leaned toward her also, and Camillé was almost tempted to lean away again. "That's the strangest part. They say she walked out blaming the Opera Ghost!"

"Th-the Opera Ghost?" Camillé stuttered for the first time in her life.

That confirmed it – Erik was up to something.

The lady leaned back again. "Yes, and now the papers are all over saying that the Populaire is haunted! Absolutely ridiculous, isn't it?"

Camillé swallowed another sip of her tea – that was cold by now, but still mostly full – as she sat back. "Yes," she agreed, her mind elsewhere, "Absolutely ridiculous."

"Apparently they've got this new prodigy though – Christine Daaé! She came out of nowhere, and they say she has the voice of an angel!"

Her eyes became wide. "The voice… of an angel."

"Yes! She's quite brilliant!"

Camillé's mind froze. "Erik, what have you done?" she whispered, forgetting she was with others.

"What was that, dear?"

"Oh, nothing," she saved, blinking the momentary trance from her eyes and smiling falsely at the woman, "Tell me everything you know about what's going on in Paris."

The woman was more than happy to oblige.

_____/~~\_____

Later that same day, the Study, Mireval

Camillé sat down and let out a very exasperated sound. Daniel looked up from his work and walked over to her, sitting down beside her and beginning to rub her neck gently. When she looked up and leaned against him, he held her and kissed her hair.

"What's wrong, mon trésor?" he asked, and she groaned.

"I have no idea what Erik is doing or why he is doing this."

He frowned. "What do you mean? What has he done?"

Camillé sat up and looked at Daniel's face. "Apparently, on the opening night of Hannibal he dropped a backdrop on top of La Carlotta while they were rehearsing and –"