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As they laid on their bed in the luxuriously decorated hotel room they got for the night, Claudia asked, “have you ever been to the opera?”
Madeleine’s fingers stopped playing with her curls.
“I haven’t.”
“Would you like to go?”
“I didn’t know you liked the opera, ma chérie.”
Claudia thought about it. She didn’t think she liked the opera, but she felt a pull towards the arts that was all Lestat’s making.
“I want to see a real opera,” she said, chasing away her thoughts of Lestat.
Madeleine, who seemed to have a direct line to Claudia’s thoughts, smiled sweetly at her. “Then we will go the opera, my love.”
Later, as they took their seats in the theatre and the lights went down, Madeleine took her hand into her lap.
“I don’t understand Italian,” she whispered into Claudia’s ear.
Before she could reply, the show started, and Claudia forgot about all the reasons why the show should bring her bad memories. Somewhere in her heart, she yearned for Lestat. The man had made her miserable and a part of her was happy he was gone; however, the pull in her heart intensified when the main singer hit a high note perfectly.
At the intermission, Madeleine squeezed her hand. “Are you well, ma chérie?”
Claudia felt tears welling up in her eyes. She cleaned them hastily, trying to avoid a scene.
She had told Madeleine about Lestat, and she hated him on principle. Still, she said, “Lestat would have loved this.”
Madeleine sighed. “Do you want to go?”
Claudia shook her head. “I want to stay. I wanna understand.”
The lights went down again for the second act. They watched in silence, holding hands obscured from view. When the last song ended, Claudia couldn’t help standing up to applaud.