It was mid-afternoon when Musette came down the main staircase. She saw Archie waiting for her. He was pacing and didn't look happy. This was going to be hard, but she had to do it.

"Muse, you can walk down the stairs a bit faster than that," he said at last.

"I don't want to fall."

"You aren't going to! And even if you did, it's only a few feet, you'd be fine."

"What if I wasn't?" she demanded as she reached the bottom.

"What do you mean?"

"What if I wasn't fine? What if I fell and died?"

He stared at her as if she were crazy. "You aren't going to fall down the stairs and die. Musey, I think you need to spend less time in those cemeteries. It isn't good for you to be around so much death."

"I like it." She had thought that he had come to understand her love of walking through cemeteries. Apparently he had only stopped talking about it. She also thought that they had argued more than she had thought before. But the arguments were subtle; he would tell her something "for her own wellbeing" and then becoming insistent that she look after herself more—more his way than hers.

It was time to end this.

"I've been thinking it over, and I've changed my mind." She slipped off the engagement ring and handed it to him. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can marry you, Archie. I want to call off the whole thing, and then we can just go our separate ways."

He held the ring in his hand and stared at it for a while. Then he feigned a bit of laughter. "Is this a joke? Because it's not funny, Musey."

"Stop calling me that!" Musette said quietly but angrily. "And no, it's not a joke. I don't think I can be with you anymore. I'm sorry, but it's just not working. You're wonderful, but you'll be even more wonderful with someone more like you and less like me."

Again he was silent. Unable to bear it anymore, she turned and walked back up the main stairs to the next level with the boxes and the grand foyer. Archie followed. Standing outside one of the boxes, he grabbed her left hand and put the ring back on her finger.

"We aren't ending this," he said. "We've just spent too much time apart and you've forgotten what we mean to each other. Paris and all these French things have made you distracted, but you'll see that we were made for each other again."

"No, I won't," Musette said. "I'm sorry, Archie, but I can not do this anymore."

She took off the ring again and threw it to the ground since he would not take it. Then she dashed into the nearest box and shut the door behind her. When he finally opened the door, there was no one in the box. He looked around the theatre to see if she had jumped or climbed down the side, but there was no sign of her. He turned. She must have hidden behind the door and dashed out again when he came in. He left the box and looked around the hall. Nothing. Just across the way was the ladies' room, so she was probably holed up in there; it would be no use waiting for her to come out if that was the case. Picking up the ring and putting it in his pocket, he then closed the door with the number five written above the round window.

Musette hadn't wanted to break up with Archie in so public a place, but Erik insisted that she do it from somewhere she could make a quick escape. She was glad that she took his advice. From Box Five, Erik took her back down to his home. They sat together; he held her close while she leaned back against his chest.

"My name doesn't mean 'little muse,' does it? I can't remember."

He laughed. "No, it's a musical name. The musette can refer to the instrument, the musette de cour, or the dance that came from it later, the bal-musette."

"I know the dance, or dances really. But it's an instrument too? Why haven't I heard of it before?"

"Not many today appreciate the French bagpipes."

"French bagpipes? I'm named after bagpipes?"

"It was very popular at one time. It was in the Baroque period mainly: Bach and Rameau. You once said that when your parents met they heard someone playing the musette de cour not too far away. That's why they chose to name you Musette. You were their Musette du Cœur."

"But how did the dance come from bagpipes? It's with an accordion now, isn't it?"

He laughed. "Yes. Things have an interesting way of changing over time."

"I bet you hate the accordion."

"Not at all."

"Oh, come on. You aren't going to be using an accordion in one of your operas, are you?"

"No, but just because it's a different style of music to my own doesn't mean I don't like it."

"You have a point. Will you promise me never to call me your little muse, or Musey?"

"Musey? I don't have to promise. I would never defile your beautiful name with that atrocity of sound."

"One more reason why I love you." They sat in silence for a few minutes. "You don't really listen to accordion music, do you?"

He pushed her forward so he could stand up. He left, but then came back with an old phonograph and records.

"You have records?" she asked in complete amazement. "No CD player?"

"The sound quality isn't as good." He laughed as her jaw dropped. "Music has always been my passion; I may not connect with the world outside, but I have always kept in touch with the changes and innovations in music."

"So you've learned about the technical side of sound quality in modern mediums, but you still dress like it's 1870?"

"People expect to see the Opera Ghost dressed like this. Are you saying you want me to wear jeans?"

Musette looked him up and down to try and picture it. "Maybe. I don't know. I'll get back to you on that."

He started the phonograph and French accordion music started playing. He then held out his hand to her. She took it and he started waltzing her around. The small steps and frequent turns were perfect for the small space. Musette couldn't have been happier as she finally was dancing with a man she loved.

Archie was in his hotel room and had the phone to his ear.

"Mr. Regal, this is Archie Phillips."

"Archie," the voice came through the phone. "How are you?"

"I'm well, sir, but I'm worried about your daughter."

"What do you mean? Is she sick?"

"No, nothing like that, but she just tried to break off our engagement suddenly and without any reason. I refused to let her, of course, but I'm worried by her behaviour."

"You don't have any idea what brought this on?" He sounded skeptical. This was the one worry in Archie's plan: that Mr. Regal would side against Archie with his daughter.

"No sir, it's only since I've arrived in Paris that…"

"Musette is in Paris? I thought she was in London." Now Henry Regal sounded worried. "Where is she staying?"

"In the opera house," Archie answered, puzzled.

"Which opera house?"

"Yours, sir. The Opera Populaire."

"No, no, this can't be happening."

"Sir?"

"Don't worry, Archie. I'm coming to Paris and we'll sort this whole thing out. Let me know where you are staying. We'll have the two of you married in no time."

Finally sorting out two lives, learning to love Erik all over again, Musette was ready for just a quick, simple wedding in her best frock. After over a century, Erik was ready for just the ceremony and none of the frills. Alex was ready for them to leave his office.

But he had promised to help them, especially after pointing out the difficulties of legality concerning their marriage. Erik didn't exist. They couldn't legal be wed until Alex obtained fake papers for Erik to exist once more.

"Time was the only ceremony you needed was to sleep together," Erik muttered.

"This isn't the Dark Ages, Erik," Musette said. "And I know that in these modern times we don't even have to be married, but I'm still an old-fashion girl and I want to be married. While technically we are already married legally from all those years ago, I've got an ex-fiancé and a man who calls himself my father to say otherwise. It may be silly, but I want the security of being legally and irrefutably tied to you."

"She… um… has a point," Alex said.

"Stop um-ing, Alex," Erik said. "I would have thought you trusted me by now."

"Trust the immortal psychopathic killer?" he mumbled, but the other two still heard. "Oh yeah, I've definitely learned to do that."

Musette laughed and Erik just shook his head with a good-natured smile. To Alex it seemed more of a sadistic smile, but progress was slowly being made between them.

"So Alex," Musette said. "How long until I can be Madame le Fantôme?"

"That's not really going to be your name, is it?" They both looked at Erik.

"I never had a last name," Erik said. "We were wed under Musette's name, Rigaud."

"How it works is that you'll be getting a new name," Alex said. "I have a couple of contacts good with forging papers, and they just pick a child that was born and died around the time you should have been born and you keep that name. They'll look for an Erik, and then they will give you that Erik's last name. Don't ask how I know them, just be grateful. It won't be cheap either. Making you a legal citizen is extremely illegal."

Erik raised an eyebrow at Alex.

"Yeah, I know," Alex said. "You have plenty of money and no problem with breaking laws. It may take a week or two."

After the call from Archie, Henry Regal made arrangements to be on a private plane the next day. The day after that he was in Paris. He only hoped that he wasn't too late.

She was still alive. Archie had assured him of that much. Yet who knew how long that would last. Susanne had warned him that their daughter would die if she went in the opera house. He had to get his daughter out of there as fast as possible.

From the airport he took a cab to the apartment he kept for when he wanted to be in Paris and see how his opera house was doing. Archie would meet him there and explain just what was going on.

"Mr. Regal," Archie said when they met together in the apartment's living room. "It's good to see you again."

"Please, Archie, I've told you to call me Henry. Now tell me everything that has happened. Last I heard you were calling me for permission to ask Musette to marry you."

"Yes, that was just before she came to Paris. Just out of the blue she decided to leave London for a while, and I couldn't let her go without proposing first."

"But that was several weeks ago." Henry had had no idea that Musette was in Paris for so long. He hoped that somehow his wife had been wrong… but she was never wrong. Thoughts about Musette contracting some incurable disease that would slowly kill her started to nag him. He would have to act quickly.

"Yes," Archie continued. "I was too busy with work to get away, but I promised to come see her here. I had hoped to make some wedding arrangements, buy her a designer dress here, and then we'd return to London. But now…"

"What happened exactly?" Henry asked.

"I came here and saw her; I thought we'd spend the day together. But I lost her at the Metro station and she never came to meet me. I waited at the museum, and then back at the opera where she finally showed up in the early evening. We were going out to dinner and had a stupid argument, and she refused to go to dinner. She disappeared and I had to go by myself. The next day we met and she threw the ring at me with an 'I'm sorry' and disappeared again."

Henry frowned. "That doesn't sound like her."

"I don't know what's happened. It's like she's someone else entirely."

Henry looked at the young man. He was a good looking man, had a successful career and was more than qualified to take over his father's place when the time came. He seemed kind and respectful. He was just the sort of person a father wanted for a son-in-law. While Henry did want Musette to marry Archie, if her reluctance was the reason she was in Paris, the reason for her odd behaviour, then Henry would get rid of Archie. Then he would return with her to the United States—whether she wanted to or not.

Next... the climax and conclusion. After that, the epilogue.