A Surprising Invitation-Leroux Raoul (casual)

[Erik Lenoir]

Erik was wandering about the mansion, with no particular destination in mind. He opened the door to one of the large parlours near the front of the house. When the house was in use, and housed a large family and many servants, this would have been one of the places where guests would have been entertained. It had a wide half arc of windows with curtains and shades. The sun was coming in brightly and near most of the windows were plants, a few in bloom.

The wallpaper seemed new as did the carpeting and a small crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. There were paintings above the fireplace and a cathedral style clock sat upon the mantle. It had been wound and when Erik looked at his pocket watch, the times matched. He put his watch away with satisfaction. There was a grand piano in the corner and he sat down at the bench and played a few notes. It seemed to be in tune. He started to play a piece of his own that he had been working on. The piano had an excellent tone and soon he became lost in the music.

[Raoul de Chagny]

( Sorry about the wait! )

Raoul walked through the manor with his hands clasped behind his back, thinking. His wedding day was drawing near, and of course with each passing day he grew excited about his impending marriage ( and of course, what followed ), but he had yet to choose a best man. It was difficult because under normal circumstances that place would probably be filled by his brother. Of course, his brother was dead and would never have agreed to the union—and vocally was against their deepening relationship from the start—and none of his friends were here. He knew a few officers who would have been good candidates, but that was irrelevant considering where they were.

So he had decided to ask the man who had saved his life, Erik Lenoir. He hadn’t known him very long at all, and he supposed they were more of acquaintances than friends—at least on the level where he would consider him to be his best man—but there really was no one else he could think of. And he was an agreeable sort of man—polite, friendly, and he had managed to save both his life and that of his fiancée. He owed him far more than this.

He had been wandering around for an hour or so hoping to run into him, to no avail. He was about to turn around and circle the mansion again when he stopped, hearing beautiful music coming from a parlor across the way. He stood in the doorway and listened in amazement at the unfamiliar piece Lenoir—the pianist—played, unwilling to interrupt him.