"How long did you live in the forests?" I asked.

"Not for very long," he replied. "By chance I happened to come in contact with Charles Garnier, the architect of this opera. He was a kind and giving man and offered me a chance to learn about his trade. I even helped build this theatre when I was fourteen, and I designed the labyrinth under the house."

"But how did you meet Monsieur Garnier?" I questioned in amazement.

"I was always experimenting with scientific research, building, and art. I had erected several tiny buildings from twigs and leaves, each designed with extraordinary detail. Garnier was on a hunting expedition when he came upon them and was impressed by their realism and architectural design."

"What did you do after the opera was finished?" I asked, wondering how this astounding tale would end.

"I designed houses through an agent Garnier had acquired for me. In fact, I still contract anonymously. Architecture is a remarkable science, but not quite as fulfilling as music. Speaking of which, I think it is time we began your lesson."

Erik rose and gestured for me to follow him to the music room. I obeyed and thought about the remarkable story he had told me. Brutality, death, hatred, and shame...he had experienced nearly every aspect of life except for love and tenderness. My heart ached for him, and I suddenly wondered if I could someday show him the love he had never thought possible for him to receive. Only time would tell.

Erik had been earnest about his career plans for me. After two weeks spent in a swirling tide of inexplicably powerful and vibrant music, he announced I was finally ready to perform. I was astonished by my rapid progress, but I could not believe I was prepared to audition for the company just yet. He merely laughed at my protestations and assured me I would awe all those who heard me.

"But what about my maid position?" I inquired. Certainly the managers and Madame Giry were angered by my departure.

"I've already notified the management of your resignation, and I scheduled an audition for tomorrow," Erik replied.

"Tomorrow!" I exclaimed, aghast at this revelation.

He closed the score on the music stand with slow deliberation and slipped it back on its shelf. "Why not?" he inquired. "It's time you performed on-stage. You're certainly capable of it."

I sighed and wrung my hands anxiously. My stomach was already churning, and I knew I would be a wreck the following day.

"I'll not have you turn into a bundle of nerves," Erik declared. "You must have confidence in yourself and faith in what I've taught you."

I nodded slowly, still too stunned to speak.

"Would you like to go for a walk, perhaps in the Bois?" he asked gently. "It may take your mind off tomorrow."

I was surprised at his suggestion. We had rowed occasionally on the lake; in fact, Erik had even taught me how to maneuver the skiff across the leaden waters, but that was the furthest we had ventured from the house. I knew he despised the world outside the Opera, so I never asked him to go anywhere.

"I would love to go for a walk," I responded eagerly. It would be dark outside, but the fresh breeze would feel delightful compared to the stale air of the theatre.

Before we left the house, Erik insisted I wear a thick muffler around my neck in order to protect my throat. "If you took a cold now, we would have to postpone your star appearance for two more weeks," he remarked.

I smiled unseen behind the thick woolen folds. I was not used to someone worrying about me, and it seemed Erik was starting to become a bit overprotective!

We took a carriage to the Bois, and I became aware of a developing tension between us. There was silence in the carriage, and I felt as though I was suffocating under his adoring gaze. I had a nearly irrepressible urge to laugh, and the length of the ride seemed unendurable. I could not want to step outside, when there would be open air between us.

I stepped down from the carriage gratefully when we had arrived in the park and mulled over this strange new atmosphere. There was a significance in this outing, the growth of our unusual relationship. In this walk we made the transition from teacher and protégée to man and woman. I was suddenly aware of a quickening in my pulse as he gazed at me. I looked quickly away, unable to cope with this new discovery.

"Christine, you are very uncomfortable," Erik remarked and turned to face me. "What is the matter? Are you unhappy here with me?"

Concern shone in his eyes, and I shook my head. "I am always happy when I am with you," I replied honestly.

"What is wrong, then?" he inquired softly. His voice was gentle and sweet, and my heart pounded wildly as he reached out slowly to push away a straying lock of hair from my forehead. He looked deeply into my eyes, and though I trembled, I could not avoid his gaze. "What troubles you, Christine?"

"I am confused, Erik," I said, dropping my eyes from his intense stare. "My feelings are all twisted and warped; I don't seem to know myself anymore."

"The heart is a complex instrument, is it not?" he replied quietly and drew a small object from his pocket. I regarded him curiously, and he smiled at me.

"There is something I want to give you," Erik began. "It belonged to Shila, my--my mother." He took my right hand and slipped something on my finger.