DoctorPhantom: And so I present the sequel story to A Phantom's Sister. If you wish to go back and read the prequel before this one or after is up to you, just don't yell at me if there is any confusion due to references to prequel.

As always: everything belongs to the people who created Phantom of the Opera (mostly Leroux because this is all book-based) and enjoy reading :)


She made her way through the crowd, going over toward him.

"Adellade!" he greeted, kissing the back of her hand. "It is good to see you here!"

"Thank you, Monsieur Garnier."

"How many times have I asked you to call me Charles?" he pointed out, craning his neck to see into the crowd. "Is he here perchance?"

"No." She sighed and smiled. "He did send me, though to thank you for allowing him to consult on your design."

"He did?" he raised an eyebrow at her.

"I might've come to thank you," she corrected. "You at least deserve that much."

"Your brother is a strange one. First, he approaches me in a bar, makes me an offer, shows me his designs, then refuses to let me take the credit for any of his changes! Not a single bit of appreciation! They'll think I designed the entire thing!"

"You did."

"I might've built the structure, but they'll be marveling at his designs. Ah, but enough of that! How are you?"

"As well as I can be."

"And your schooling?"

"I'd prefer Erik's lessons. Instead I find myself either attempting to play or pricking my finger with a needle most nights."

"Have you had a chance to see the interior?"

"No." She shook her head. "He was supposed to show me himself, only when I asked him this morning, he told me to go on without him…."

"Then allow me to show you myself. I'm sure he won't mind you at least seeing the entryway." He led her by the arm up the stairs and through the doors.

She gasped, seeing the statues, the paintings, everything. "It's wonderful!"

"I know. Seeing it on paper, I didn't believe it was possible, yet here it is." He led her past the stairs and through a pair of doors. "This, I believe, was his favorite. Wouldn't let me touch a single thing until he was certain of every minute detail. He kept checking it over and over again. I'm afraid it happened to steal many of his nights from you."

"I feel I can forgive him for that." She walked ahead a bit, seeing the seats, the balconies, the columns, the stage itself…. She turned, seeing it all, seeing the grand chandelier that hung in just the right position so that it would be able to shine, yet not distract from the stage. She ran her hand along the column, feeling the artwork. Everything had Erik's signature written all over it….

"There is a matter to see to, of course," he called out, handing her an envelope. "A masquerade is to be held this evening in celebration of the opera house's completion. I suspect that you and your brother would attend. I'll be expecting it."

"I'll do my best to convince him."


She walked into their small apartment, seeing that several of Erik's things were missing-or stored away someplace. She frowned, searching for him.

"Erik? Erik?"

A note lay on the bed and she picked it up, recognizing his handwriting.

I find myself preoccupied this afternoon. I will most certainly return by tonight. Oh, and do try your best to look nice, as you are to be attending a masquerade. I took the liberty of selecting you a dress. The box is underneath the bed.

She knelt down, pulling it out. She opened the lid and stared at the dress within, seeing the lace and ruffles. A silver mask sat within. She took it and held it in her hands, trying it on in front of the mirror.


A carriage drove up in front of the apartment and she smoothed her skirts out, seeing a man exit and knock on the door. She opened it, seeing a dark cloak with the hat pulled down over the white mask concealing his face.

"Whenever you're ready, mademoiselle."

She nodded and allowed him to help her into the carriage, climbing in after her.

"This is rather nice, Erik," she murmured, smoothing out the skirts.

"The color does suit you."

"You don't have to wear the hat, you know. It is a masquerade. No one will notice."

"Later."

They arrived and he helped her out, escorting her up the stairs. He handed his hat and cloak to someone, revealing a nice suit underneath-though still a dark color in contrast to his white mask. She glanced at him, having expected him to wear a bit more color given that he chose her something red to wear.

"Monsieur!" Charles Garnier greeted. "You came!"

"I suppose one party won't ensure my death," he sighed.

"He's secretly happy to be here," she whispered.

"All of the patrons are impressed with the opera house," he pointed out. "And I can't bargain with you on any of the credit?"

"You know my terms, Garnier."

"Of course, of course." He sighed and held out his hand. "Though I do wish to have the pleasure of working with you once again someday. Your gifts should not go unwasted."

She nudged him and Erik reluctantly took the man's hand. "Perhaps."

He escorted her away and she sighed. "It is lovely, Erik. Every bit of it."

"I am glad to hear your enjoyment. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to."

She grabbed his arm before he could leave. "One dance? Please, Erik?"

"Enjoy yourself first." He kissed her forehead before vanishing into the crowd.


"Madame Giry!" he called out, approaching her. "And this must be your daughter you spoke so fondly of."

"Yes. This my little Meg."

"Will we be seeing her in the ballet soon?"

"Mother!" she hissed.

"She has been dancing for several years now. I'm sure she'll enjoy herself on such a wonderful stage."

"Indeed." He nodded to her. "Might I have a word with your mother, mademoiselle?"

Meg nodded and walked off to dance with another man.

"I was wondering if you had any thoughts as to the matter I questioned you about the other day?"

"And how do you know that she will take ballet? As you've said yourself: Adellade is not the most forthcoming of dancers."

"No." He sighed. "However, I do believe with the correct guidance, she may learn to handle herself. I-do only ask this if you are willing to. She has had a-difficult time, and from what I've seen with your instruction…."

"You must care about your sister quite a lot, monsieur."

"Very much so."

"If she will come to me, then I will do my best to instruct her. I cannot promise you that she will have a place in our ballets, monsieur, but I can promise you that she will have a place with myself and my daughter if she ever requires one."

"Thank you, madame."


She applauded the orchestra along with everyone else, sighing as she did so. The night was almost over, yet Erik hadn't given her the dance he promised.

"Might I have the honor of the last dance with you?"

"No." she shook her head.

A hand grabbed hers and she turned, eyes narrowed at him as he smiled.

"I was promised one dance, and you had best be held to your promises, mademoiselle."

The music began and they started dancing.

"Where have you been all this time?"

"Finishing a few things." He looked at her. "Though you best ought to save your conversational skills for later. Your dancing on the other hand requires much work."

"Since when have you gained the ability to critique me on how well I can waltz?"

"Oh, I have been able to do that for a very long time," he whispered, leading her through the steps. "This isn't so difficult, you know."

"You are not the one in a dress, monsieur." She rolled her eyes. "And since when have you been able to waltz?"

"The early days in the courts of Persia did have some dances. Then they found an assassin and less tasteful entertainment." His grip on her waist tightened as she almost tripped.

"I'm trying!"

He chuckled.

"It would help if you didn't hold me so tightly!" she argued.

"If I did, then one of the men here might steal you away from me."

"Are you supposed to be my lover now?"

"No."

"Good." She smiled. "I like it better when you're my brother."

"You always have." He sighed and bowed as the dance ended. "Come. It is time we were home."

He led her through the crowd and she frowned. "Isn't home that way? Erik? Erik?"

He opened the door of the theatre and she sighed, putting her hands on her hips. "I've seen this, already! I thought you said we were going home!"

He walked to the stage and helped her up, moving her by the shoulders so she was standing at the center. "Every detail was worked out," he whispered, pointing. "The seats, the shape of it, the chandelier. Even the stage itself. Now, close your eyes."

"Erik…."

"Close them," he whispered.

She sighed and did as he asked. She felt his hands leave her shoulders.

"Now open."

She did and turned to face him, only finding that there was no one there.

"Erik?"

"Careful, mademoiselle. You wouldn't wish to hurt yourself, would you?"

She frowned, seeing the trapdoor. "Erik?"

"Will a creature as lovely as you care to visit a demon?"

She knelt down and sighed, lowering herself, pulling the door closed behind her, encasing herself in darkness.

"Erik? Erik, where are you?" She felt her way forward, feeling the narrow walls. "I do hate when you vanish like this, you know," she sighed.

She kept walking, feeling the ground tilting a bit, the stones growing colder…. Eventually, the smooth stones turned into rough, uneven ones beneath her feet. She blinked, eyes adjusting, hearing the sound of water nearby…. There was a boat at the edge of a shore, where he was casually sitting, waiting for her.

"Where are we?" she demanded.

He smirked and held out his hand, helping her inside. He started row them across and she sighed, eyeing the water. She started to hear something, coming from the water itself…. Some type of song playing deep below the surface...calling her….

"Careful, now," he interrupted, chasing the song away. "Less you wish to fall prey to Erik's siren."

"I thought sirens were supposed to be women who lured the men to their shores?" she pointed out.

"Indeed." He smirked. "Yet you forget that they also lure them to their deaths."

"I never did like those stories," she muttered. "I prefer yours."

He sighed. "What else is there to tell?"

"You never did finish it, you know. The one of the demon."

"Ah yes. He managed to build her a palace one day-a palace they could hide away in together without fear of having her taken away from him." He got out and pulled the boat up to the other shore, helping her out. "And he hid her away deep beneath the earth," he continued. "Hidden away in a location only he knew of." A door swung open from the rock and he led her inside with a bow. "Welcome home, mademoiselle. I believe you'll find everything to your liking."

She walked in and eyed the furnishings, seeing it, seeing the way it looked more like a set of rooms than a hidden underground home. "Did you-build all of this?"

"It was simple." He sighed. "Oh, the things I hid at the Shah's palace…. I believe you'll find this to be my own version-all for Erik's enjoyment. You will find that the other tunnels do have traps laid out amongst the ways, so do only use the stage entrance."

"Why would I require an entrance?"

He tilted her chin up and kissed her on the forehead. "Because as much as Erik regrets it, you are not meant to be hidden away forever, Adellade. I have arranged for you to be given ballet instruction under Madame Antoinette Giry. I believe you'll find her daughter an adequate companion. You needn't worry-I have taken all precautions to ensure your safety. And with this: Erik will be able to watch his Adellade without causing her harm."

"Erik…." She stood on her toes to remove his mask and her own. "You haven't done me any harm."

"But he has." He gently took her hand in his, fingers tracing the scars on her arm.

"If you're referring to the Shah, then that was him, not you. He is the one who did this to me. You are the one who save me from him."