Chapter Text
It took Christine much longer than she’d been expecting to come to terms with the passing of her father. They’d buried him in the small church cemetery just four days after he died and Professor Valerius came to take her from Sweden back to Paris with him the next day. Still, she hadn’t fully comprehended that her father was gone until the moment the Valerius house came into full view.
The realization struck her hard as she gazed up at the large, imposing brick building with its empty, lightless windows that so resembled how her father’s eyes had looked when she looked at him for the last time. Not only was her mother, a woman Christine had never known, gone but so was her father. She knew she should’ve felt thankful that she’d had eighteen years with her father’s love when there were so many who grew up without parents, but all she felt was dread. This strange, unfamiliar place was her home now. It was unlikely that she would ever return to Sweden again.
“Yes, just pull the coach around to the front doors if you please,” the professor called to the driver before turning back to Christine. His knees brushed against the black skirt of her dress. The older man smiled kindly at her and placed a warm hand on her arm, trying his best to be comforting with little success. Christine tried to smile back but couldn’t muster more than a grimace. It was impolite she knew, especially since the man was her godfather and now her guardian, but with the fresh wave of grief washing over her and the fact that she hadn’t seen him or his wife since she was seven years old he was just lucky that she hadn’t burst into tears yet. “I know it’s hard right now, Lottie,” he said, using the old nickname for her. “Gustave… your father was a great man and he will be missed. Things will get easier soon though. I promise. After you get moved in and comfortable here and when you have classes at the Conservatoire and the music that comes with it to fill your time.”
“Of course, Professor,” Christine answered, her voice sounding more than a little hollow to herself. “And please, don’t think I am not grateful to you and Madame Valerius for everything you’re doing for me. I am more thankful than you can ever know.” The coach rolls to a stop and the driver opens the door for the pair. The Professor got out first, paying the man and offering his hand to Christine who took it. A short conversation is exchanged between the two men, something about bringing all the luggage inside to… somewhere before Christine found herself being led into the house. The Professor stops outside the door and ushers her in before turning back around to tend to some other business he has outside.
The entrance hall looked like it could’ve been something out of a fairytale, one of the stories her father would’ve told Christine when she was much younger. The vaulted ceiling was high, painted with clouds and a stunning mix of colors to mimic a sunrise or set. Marble floors shone under her feet, polished to perfection. Artwork adorned all the walls, paintings from the old masters as well as new pieces from up-and-coming artists. Despite the beautiful décor and the kindness she’d experienced so far, something felt off to Christine. Something she couldn’t quite place.
“Welcome to our home Christine,” a voice Christine could barely recognize says. Madame Valerius enters the hall from a grand set of doors to the left, looking older than the last time she saw her, but just as kind. Behind her are roughly two dozen men and women in matching uniforms. The staff. It’s strange to think that just a few days ago when her father was alive Christine was living off of less than these people and now she was one of the ones they served. “I’m sorry about the circumstances that brought you to us, but please know that the Professor and I are happy to see you after such a long time.”
“Thank you for everything,” Christine said. “I appreciate you and the Professor taking me in to further my education, Madame.”
“Please,” Madame Valerius, said, striding forward to take Christine’s hands in her own. “Call me Mama.”
“Of course, Mama.”
After a short amount of small talk that consisted of Mama Valerius commenting on everything about her goddaughter that had changed in the past twelve years and Christine just wishing she could go lay down the Professor came back inside with yet another person for Christine to meet. He’s a quite handsome older man with darker skin, the kind that Papa usually said came from the Middle East. He appeared to be around the same age as the Professor, maybe a little younger, with dark hair and a neat beard, unlike the Professor's wild grey. Clearly a servant due to his variation of the other’s uniform, but unlike them this man looked much more distinguished. Christine might’ve found herself more interested in the new character if she wasn’t so desperate for a private room to finally cry in.
“Nadir, this is Mademoiselle Daae. And this, Christine, is our chief of staff and security guard of sorts, Monsieur Khan,” the Professor says, placing one hand on the man’s shoulder. “He is a trusted friend of mine and he will be available to help you with anything that my wife and I can’t help you with. Nadir will also lead you to your room later.” Christine nodded politely and continued to do so as Professor and Madame Valerius introduced the rest of the staff members one by one.
At long last all of the introductions came to an end meaning it was time for dinner. Christine found herself seated at a table much too long for the inhabitants of the household, surprisingly situated between the Chief of Staff and Professor Valerius who sat at the head of the table and across from Mama Valerius, the only other person at the table. The Professor, likely feeling more confident about the entire situation surrounding his goddaughter now that he was back in his own home, was very talkative. He told jokes and stories in a poor, at least in Christine’s opinion, attempt to lighten the mood. Nadir ate quietly, mostly listening to whatever the Professor had to say, politely interjecting every once in a while when he felt as if he had something to add or something was needed to keep the conversation going. Mama Valerius continued to try and converse with Christine who wanted absolutely nothing to do with it and stared down at her plate, trying not to cry into her fish and potatoes when the Professor regaled Monsieur Khan with a story about her father back when he and Mama Valerius went to visit him in Sweden for the last time.
She looked up for a moment just in time to catch a sympathetic look from the green eyes on her left. It only made her feel worse, so she ignored it and glued her eyes back to her plate, pushing around what little food she had scooped onto her plate at the start of the meal.
“Any wine,” Mama Valerius asked Nadir, looking as if she already knew the answer but felt obligated to ask anyway.
“None for me, thank you,” he replied easily as if the question was routine at any meal they shared. “You know how it is for me. Religious restrictions and such. I appreciate the offer though.”
The rest of the dinner finished in the same way, awkward and more miserable than Christine could have ever imagined a dinner could be. Afterward, both the Professor and Mama Valerius bid her goodnight, wanting to ‘give her time to get settled in her new room.’ Monsieur Khan, along with one of the maids to carry the luggage, escorted Christine through the house to one of the upstairs bedrooms. He talked as he led her through the halls but Christine didn’t bother to listen. Instead, she stared right ahead at his back, lost in her own miserable thoughts until he stopped suddenly and she ran right into him.
“No need to apologize,” Nadir said as she opened her mouth to speak. “I understand that you’re going through quite a bit at the moment. I felt a similar way I’m sure when my wife and son died back when I lived in Persia. I don’t expect you to be at your best right now.” He reached out one hand to offer her the key to the room he stopped in front of. “Here’s the key to the room. I’ll come back to make sure you are settled in around half-past seven. If you need anything after Melodie leaves but before I return there’s a bell in the room to call a servant to assist you. I will see you later.” The maid, Melodie, took the key from his hand and unlocked the door to let herself in before opening Christine’s medium-sized trunk and beginning to place the clothes and a few belongings from inside into the closet.
Christine followed her into the room and looked around. Even in her distressed state, she had to admit that it was a very nice-looking room. In one corner was a large, comfortable-looking canopy bed with lilac curtains and sheets and four fluffy pillows. An entire wall was taken up by ornate bookcases and shelves already full of some books and knick-knacks. The hardwood floor was old and scratched in some places but a big rug covered a lot of the space near the bed and the dresser. Beside the dresser was a full-length mirror and curiously, there was another much smaller mirror hung above the doorway at a height too great to make it worthwhile. No one could see much of anything in it, even if they were incredibly tall. Curiosity piqued, Christine spoke up unprompted for the first time in a few hours.
“What’s that?” The maid jumped before turning around to see what Christine was pointing at. “Up there. The mirror. What’s that there for?” As soon as the words left Christine’s lips, the other young woman’s eyes went wide and her face went pale. One hand went up to make the sign of the cross over herself.
“That? That is to ward off the Opera Ghost, to make sure he can’t get in and cause trouble. He usually haunts up here on the second floor during the day and sings devilish music on the downstairs floor at night. Supposedly he hates mirrors, so we hang them to keep that devil out.” Almost as if on cue a crash sounded from somewhere else deep inside the house causing Melodie to flee the room without unpacking the rest of the trunk, nearly screaming in terror.