Work Text:
Dear Monsieur Vicomte de Chagny
It has not even been a decade since you last saw me when I bid my beloved Christine farewell and gave you the gift of walking away with her, with the promise to love and honor her for the rest of your life. I expected that you, as a man of high education and the discipline of a sailor, would be able to keep that promise; if not to me, then at least to the magnificent woman whom you wed.
Imagine my surprise when I learned that you had come to frequent the Palais Garnier once more. At first I hoped to see your wife, who could have been mine, at your side. Sadly, I never saw her in spite of the fact that she is the only one of your current household with a true interest in music.
It quickly became apparent that you always arrived alone, although this was never how you left. Every week there would be a new, lovely woman on your arm that you would help into your carriage with the intimacy that one should reserve for his wife.
Meanwhile, your astonishing wife would sit at home in your grand mansion and wait for you, alone in silence when she should have been surrounded by music. You informed her that you were conducting business with Monsieur Comte Francis and as a dedicated wife, she asked no further questions.
Whilst you may feel your ruse was a very clever one, I can assure you that everyone knew. One thing you should have learned when you first became a patron for Palais Garnier is that the gossip spreads fast in an opera house. As the audience leaves, the words travel out into the world and it can even reach the cage you have built around your devoted wife.
You have failed to love and honor her as you swore. Therefore, I am retracting my gift of allowing you to have her in your life; you were never a worthy man.
As you may have been informed years ago, I once travelled in the East. I met many strange customs that may appear primitive to Europeans, but were essential to uphold the law and good morals in those countries. One practice in particular caught my attention, one by the name of Rhinotomy; I imagine that your knowledge of latin and the memory of Christine describing my face will be enough to understand why I especially remembered this practice.
Rhinotomy, in this case the amputation of a person’s nose, has throughout history been used to punish dishonorable men and adulterers. As you are both, I thought this punishment would be a suitable one for you, dear Vicomte. In addition, it amuses me how delightfully ironic it is that you of all people now will understand a fraction of the life I was handed from birth.
There is no doubt that you are disoriented when you are reading this, seeing how I was kind enough to sedate you before severing your nose (this only as a favor to Christine, I assure you). I encourage you to save this letter and reread it when you are clear-headed.
I will politely request that you do not seek out your wife. As you have hopefully learned, it is dangerous to stick your nose in where it does not belong. She is no longer of your concern and any attempt to sniff out her whereabouts will result in more amputations of less favorable places without any form of anesthesia.
You will be happy to know that she has willingly agreed to come with me.
Your friend in noselessness,
O.G.