Authors Note For This Story: An Irish Hallowe'en tradition was a Barmbrack: a bread where various objects were baked into it to tell one's future relationship status. The various items symbolized aspects of relationships; like when one would get married, the aspects of a relationship, etc.

For this story I decided to make it a cake because fortune telling cakes have roots in many other holidays and it would be fancier than bread for a ball. This story set after "The Phantom of the Opera" musical but sets up "Love Never Dies." However, I borrowed some of the ballerinas from the novel for it.

"Madame, your corset is not going to get any tighter," Christine de Chagny's maid let go of the strings. "If we cannot get you into your costume, I believe you are going to have to inform The Vicomte of something tonight."

Christine looked down at her Star Princess costume spread across her bed. "We are going to have to make it fit," She walked over to her full-length mirror and observed her reflection. "It is not too noticeable."

She placed her hand on her stomach. Almost four months and Raoul had not even noticed a thing. Not my mood swings, the morning upset or my already expanding body?

"Why have you not told him?" Collette the dear young maid asked, picking up the Star Princess skirt

It's not his child. It's not his child. Erik, why? Why? You would have known I was carrying the moment I missed my first menses.

The Soprano held her breath as they both worked to pull the skirt over her upper body and adjust it over her petticoats.

"I guess I have overstepped my status again," Collette helped with the top before lacing it on in the back.

There was a knock at the door connecting their bed chambers. "Is my Star Princess ready?" A Hussar Soldier walked through a smile on his face. It quickly turned to concern as he eyed his wife.

"Are you not feeling well, Christine? You look bloated."

Christine sat down on the bed facing away from her husband, "You are right, I am not feeling well. You will have to host the party without me."

"Oh darling, what is the matter?" Raoul sat down and took her hands into his. "Shall I send for the doctor?"

The Soprano bit her lip and turned her head from Raoul's. Her gaze met Collette's. The young maid nodded her head.

Christine shook her head, "Thank you for your service tonight, Collette. You may go home now."

The girl sighed loudly, "Good night, Madame."

"Lotte please," Raoul sighed and sat down behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Was it because I said you look bloated? I…I should not have said that. Let's forget it and enjoy our Hallowe'en ball tonight. We always enjoyed the of goblins and ghosts together."

Christine smiled as she placed her hand on top of Raoul's.

"Christine!" The ballerinas cried in unison as they ran up to her in the ballroom.

The Vicomtesse's face lit up as the girls pulled her into an embraced. "It's so wonderful to see you! I cannot wait to see all of you in 'The Marriage of Figaro!'"

After a few silent seconds, Christine spoke again, "Have any of you heard from Meg or Madame Giry?"

They all looked at the floor. Jammes finally spoke, "Not since your wedding."

Christine sighed. As if losing Erik wasn't enough. She also lost her career and best friend.

"We miss them just as much," Jammes said.

Madame de Chagny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened them and smiled. "Well, tonight is for Hallowe'en fun. Come, I had something made just for all of you."

The girls in their various bird costumes followed the Star Princess to the refreshment table where a cake waited. "May I present a Barmbrack!"

"A what?"

"A Barmbrack," Christine repeated. "It's an Irish Hallowe'en tradition I learned about while traveling with my father. While they used bread, I decided to make it a fortune telling cake, just for Hallowe'en."

"It looks like you do not need anymore cake," Sorelli whispered under her breath.

One of the other ballerinas giggled.

Christine heard them but did not respond, "There are different trinkets baked in the cake and depending on what you get it is symbolic for the future of your relationship."

"I don't need a relationship," One of the girls quipped.

"But what about a handsome patron?" Sorelli asked. "Not all of us will be as fortunate as Christine."

The Diva forced a smile, "Well shall we cut it?"

The servant at the table cut pieces up and Christine passed them around to the ballerinas. Jammes was the first to speak.

"My fork hit a ring! What does that mean, Christine?"

"Have you been hiding someone, Jammes because that mean you will marry within the next year!"

Jammes licked the cake off the ring and looked at it, "I'll have to meet him first. Does Raoul have any friends?"

Some of the other girls laughed. As they ate their cake some discovered nothing in their pieces; they either moaned in disappointment or sighed in relief.

"Is there anything in your piece, Christine? You're the one here in a proper relationship," Sorelli asked a bit of bite in her words.

Madame de Chagny poked at what she had not ate of her piece of her cake with her fork and hit something. She coaxed it out.

"A stick?" Jammes looked over Christine's shoulder. "What does that mean?"

Christine frowned before sitting her plate down on the table, "It's just a silly game."

"If that is so, then when I am to marry? You had me so excited, Christine!" Jammes spread her left hand out where she had placed the trinket ring on her left ring finger.

"Are you even going to tell us why you are so upset?" Sorelli adjusted some of the feathers of her swan costume.

Christine closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "It supposed to mean an unhappy marriage…excuse me." She walked to the other side the ballroom and sat down on a couch.

Some of the girls looked around at each other, Jammes at Raoul as he talked to a couple of other guests.

An annoyed sigh escaped Sorelli's lips as white feathers fluttered behind her. She sat down next to the Star Princess, "That was a rather dramatic reaction to a trivial Hallowe'en game. You've always been dramatic, Christine but that was just a little too real. You haven't told Vicomte have you?"

Christine looked up, her gaze meeting Sorelli's, her cheeks flushed.

The ballerina scoffed, "Oh don't look so surprised or innocent! I was about that size when I miscarried. Madame Giry did a wonderful job of taking care of me, making sure a doctor saw me, that I got proper rest for recovery."

"Was he a patron?" Her curiosity genuine. She and Sorelli never talked much but they had a good working relationship.

The ballerina wiped her brown eyes, "Yes and I still love him. But he will only ever be a patron; even if he wasn't married, men of his status do not marry dancers."

The guilt weighted heavy on Christine as tears formed in her own eyes. She took Sorelli's hand, "It is probably better that way. I mean knowing our status in life and not crossing it. I am sorry about your baby." She placed her other hand on her small stomach.

"It's not the Vicomte's is it?" Sorelli arched an eyebrow. "It's why you haven't told him. Your Angel of Music?"

The Diva let out a soft sob, then bit her lip to keep the rest in.

Sorelli lifted her hand and gently caressed Christine's brown locks. "I've never told anyone about this. Your secret is safe with me."

"Have you seen him? Heard him?"

"Who?"

"My Angel of Music? The Phantom of the Opera?"

The Ballerina smiled sadly at the Soprano, "There has been no action from the Phantom of the Opera since the night of Don Juan Triumphant."

A few of those tears ran down Christine's cheeks. She wiped them away and took a deep breath. She embraced Sorelli, "Thank you. If you'll excuse me."

Madame de Chagny walked across the ballroom to her husband, "May I have a moment alone with you?"

Raoul linked his arm with his wife, "Oh Lotte, have you gotten in trouble with your friends already?"

Once they were away from Raoul's friends, Christine pulled him closer, "No they made me realize I need to tell you something. I am with child."

His eye widened, "What do you mean?"

"You know when you mentioned I look bloated? I am just pregnant; it's why I can barely fit into this costume."

Raoul pulled away and ran his fingers through his hair, "And you thought this was the best time to tell me? Not earlier when I said something? Or tonight after the party?"

Christine took her husband's hand, "I am sorry but they just made me realize I couldn't hide it anymore."

"Hide it?" Raoul jerked away from her. "Why the Devil would you hide something so wonderful from me?"

The Diva's hands formed fists, "You haven't even noticed any of the changes in me!" With that Christine stormed out of the ballroom. It's a stick in a piece of cake, it's just a stupid game. A stick in a piece of cake. If only this rocky start to our marriage could be blamed on a silly game and not another man's child in my womb.