Another night had passed and I still had not spoken with Erik about Deveraux. I had no one to blame but myself for the delay. There simply never seemed to be a good time for me to bring up the matter. But I knew I had to say something. It was too important. The thought of him in a cage...the thought of him dead...tormented me constantly.

We had just finished having dinner.

Erik was partaking of a glass of wine after having had an unusually hearty meal. Meanwhile, I could barely eat or drink anything for worry.

"My dear, you are looking pale...and you haven't touched anything on your plate..." my husband said, interrupting my frantic thoughts. "I hate to bring up such an indelicate matter, but...you are not with child, are you?"

"Good Lord, no!" I quickly responded. At least, I was fairly certain I was not.

"I am sorry to have asked but such matters have been on my mind as of late. And with the Gala only a few days away, you must remain in good health."

For better or worse, this was the time to speak.

"I have been meaning to talk to you about that, Erik…I have decided not to go."

"Not to go to the Gala!"

"Nor the opera."

"Angelica, I do not understand. I have already purchased that beautiful Aphrodite costume for you; and you have that lovely black and gold velvet dress for opening night. It will be your shining moment as an artist. You will be radiant. Why on earth would you not want to go?"

I then recounted my conversation with Deveraux to Erik. His reaction was not what I expected as he merely laughed.

"My child, the threats of those young lads cannot astonish you so! Of course, they are hoping to catch me there. Did you think otherwise?"

I could not join him in his mirth.

"I do not possibly see how this situation can amuse you..."

"It will take more than those two popinjays to keep me away from our opera!" he boasted.

"But there will be all of the policemen there looking for you as well…"

"Come here," he motioned to me, pulling me onto his lap and playfully kissing my neck. "It will be worth the risk to see you there, all dressed up in your finery. You shall have all of Paris at your feet!"

"I do not care about any of that. I am not going," I stated resolutely. "I will not encourage you in this mad game. Erik, please see reason…"

"You are going if I have to tie you up and make you..." he stated matter-of-factly before nibbling on my ear and whispering "...you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Outraged, I sprang to my feet and fled to the other side of the room.

"I mean it, Erik!"

He responded with an impatient sigh.

"Angelica, if you allow our personal situation to interfere with your career, you shall be lost. It is how the rules are played here in Paris. If you do not show your face, Beauty and the Beast could still triumph. But you will never succeed with having any more of your work performed here. I agree that these "rules" are ridiculous, but that is the way of it. Besides, you will only add fuel to all of the gossip if you do not go."

That made sense.

"I see your point," I nodded. "But I would feel so much better if I knew that you were not there. Please don't endanger your life this way. How can I possibly make any sort of impression on anyone at all when I will be worried sick about you the entire time?"

"While I am touched by your concern, I am rather insulted in your lack of faith in me, my dear. Do you really think that I am so easily caught? Do you really credit those two youngsters with such superior cunning to my own?"

"Sometimes I think you are a little too in love with your own legend!" I retorted.

Perhaps I was being cruel, but better than being a widow before we were even married!

"Is that so?" Erik asked calmly...too calmly.

"Such conceit is what caused you to be careless and spotted by Meg Giry in the first place! And now they are ready for you...and they mean to kill you..."

"I am not afraid of the Vicomte!" he bellowed suddenly, banging his wine glass onto the table. "He could not trap me before; and he shall not now. And as for Deveraux, that nosy bloodhound is even less of a threat!"

I would not let his rage provoke me or scare me from my course.

"Erik, things are different," I replied, trying to reason with him. "They know about the places where you hide. You cannot rely on your old tricks anymore. Where would you be able to see the opera? Not from the wings, not from the catwalk, and especially not from Box Five!"

"The Paris Opera House was my home for years. I know every secret tunnel, every nook and cranny of the place. Those fools do not have the knowledge that they think they do!"

"Oh, you're a fine one to call anyone else a fool!" I cried out with frustration.

He only stared at me with maddening arrogance.

"Just think, you are willing to risk all of our plans! Our trip to America, our impending marriage, everything…just to prove to the world that the Phantom of the Opera will not be defeated!"

"I shall not be intimidated by the likes of that pompous de Chagny!" he roared at me. "He has taken enough from me! He shall rob me no longer! That arrogant young man may deceive people with his looks and wealth, but I know him for a weakling not fit to live. If only I had killed him that night when I had the chance…" he hissed with venom."

The only thing Raoul de Chagny had ever taken from Erik was Christine. And she was not even his to be taken away in the first place. I recognized that old anger and hurt in his eyes. And I realized that he was still hurting over Christine.

I might as well have never come into his life at all!

"Yes," I retorted. "Then you could have kept Christine as your prisoner and we would have never met."

Although his rage had been silenced, he showed no regret nor denial of any kind.

"Maybe that is what you would have preferred!" I continued brashly.

"I do not wish to discuss Christine," he said, his voice a trifle calmer but chilling just the same.

"How can we avoid it since this is really what your stubbornness is all about? God forbid anyone dare keep you away from watching Christine! After all, you had envisioned her in the part of Beauty ever since the beginning, hadn't you? You wrote those melodies for her! You designed those dresses for her! All along, while we were working together, she was always there in the back of your mind, wasn't she!"

"Well, what of it?" he admitted in a low voice.

"It is to your credit that you are at least being honest about her for a change," I fumed. "I suppose you're hoping that she's going to fall in love with you for it!"

The only sound was Erik's fingers drumming along the table, driving me mad.

"You had better understand something, Angelica," Erik said. "I had already stated quite clearly that I do not care to discuss Christine...not tonight nor ever. But you still insist on belaboring the subject to the point of lunacy. If we are to get married at all, you will learn to do as I say and control this insane jealousy of yours!"

"If?" I repeated with hurt. "I am sorry but I was under the misconception that we were speaking of when we would get married, not if. When did this turn into 'if'?"

Erik did not respond.

"You do not have to answer! I think I already know! The minute you started dwelling on your little songbird!"

I could barely speak as the sobs started to overwhelm me.

"How foolish of me to believe the promises of a phantom!"

Blinded by tears, I stormed off to the bedroom.

Time dragged on.

I kept hoping to hear his footsteps. I prayed that he would come into our room and beg my forgiveness. He would assure me that we were to get married in the States as planned. He would say that Christine meant absolutely nothing to him anymore. He would kiss me sweetly and croon love songs.

Yet, there was only silence, save the sound of my tears.


The next morning, Erik had left a tray of food and a note by the bedroom door. I was to be locked up in my room and not allowed out until the night of the Gala. Obviously, with my irrational behavior, I could not be trusted to see reason. He also kindly left me my volume of Shakespeare as a source of entertainment.

Enraged, I threw the book across the room, shattering some lewd vase of his in the process.

I paced the room like a caged tiger for hours.

I had given him everything, everything of myself that I had...and he still could not get Christine out of his heart! And then to add insult to injury, he locked me up the minute I said something that he did not want to hear!

The next day, I was relieved to see that my monthly flow had started. At least, I would not be pregnant and alone should Erik truly break his promise to marry me.

Consumed with boredom and frustration, there was nothing to do but read the Bard. I pored through Macbeth, Othello and Titus Andronicus. They all suited my mood as I felt like reading plays that were very dark, violent and bloody.


Aphrodite and I were well matched.

Grudgingly, I had to admit that I had never looked more stunning in my life than I did in Erik's costume. With my red-blonde hair pulled back in a loose chignon with curls streaming down my back and my green eyes outlined with dark kohl, my feline looks had been enhanced. The thin white fabric of my dress clung to my curves, yet hung with a graceful flow along the floor. Erik had also given me a necklace made up of rubies and emeralds. On my feet were a pair of jewel-encrusted sandals which scandalously revealed my bare toes. All in all, I was entirely too indecent to go out in public.

Still, at least I would be stylish in my shocking apparel.

I heard the door unlatch.

I had barely seen Erik all week. All he had done was leave trays of food for me, dodging all breakable objects and curses I had thrown his way.

My captor seemed quite pleased with my appearance.

"I knew that dress would suit you perfectly," he smiled, reaching for my hand. "You truly are a goddess…"

I pulled away from him.

"Still angry at me?"

"Still?" I repeated incredulously. "How could you possibly think otherwise? You may force me to dress like a whore…but I shall not grant my favors to a brutish jailer!"

"Oh, you goddess wildcat, you are in fine form tonight!" he grinned devilishly.

I hurled my book of Shakespeare right at his head.

"Calm yourself, madam. We shall be departing anon…" he said. "As soon as I put on my own costume."

"What do you mean?"

"I love masquerades," he beamed. "They are the only parties I attend."

"Fine! I hope you get caught! You deserve it for being such a blasted idiot!"

"You're so beautiful when you're angry," he teased. "Do not fret, my dear. I shall be back in half in hour."

When he returned, he was wearing a black and white checkered harlequin costume with a red mask and cape. Donning a large black plumed hat, he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

"Don't you think you are a bit conspicuous dressed like that?"

"Sometimes, being conspicuous is the best disguise."