Over the next couple of weeks Erik unwillingly found himself becoming rather intrigued by Claire. It was the first time since Christine had left him that he had had any interest in a woman. However it was in no sense a growing like or love, but instead a simple curiosity. Yet, he thought oddly, it had inspired him to write music again and in the middle of the night he would sit at his piano and play.

Despite his curiosity, he refrained from having any conversations with her, and only spoke to her when giving orders. Erik instead took pleasure in watching her, studying her, sometimes with her knowledge, sometimes without. Although she had been vague about her reasons for running away Erik quickly concluded that something much worse than a simple animosity between her and her stepfather must have occurred to drive her away. She was hard working, keeping to her chores and quickly learning the new skills required to be a servant. Claire would often hum while she worked but Erik noticed that she was careful never to hum a tune from any performance at the Opera house, especially Don Juan.

Her face was often set with a look of steely determination and only once had he ever seen her smile. One morning after she had just mopping the floor Claude had gone running by, and, slipping on the wet marble crashed into a suit of armour at the end of the hall, nearly impaling himself on its axe. Gazing through a secret window in his bedroom door he saw a smile light up her face and heard soft laughter escape her lips. However, other than that, even in the presence of the other servants she did not smile.

Yet it was not her lack of expression that intrigued him, but her lack of emotion. He had never seen her cry, not even when she thought that she was alone. Erik had never heard her curse or cry out in frustration despite having left everyone and everything she had ever known.

"She's strong" he thought to himself, "to keep her dark passed so hidden within her."

However, despite all his watching Erik never saw her alone in her room at night, the time when she let her real emotions show.

Claire lay in her bed unable to sleep. She was exhausted but fought sleep because in sleep the dreams would come. Crying herself to sleep had worked best, exhausting her mind and her body so that it was harder for the memories to surface. Closing her eyes she shifted restlessly beneath her soft linen sheets. And then she heard it…the music.

Sitting up she strained to listen. Very faint piano notes resonated through the house and down to her room. Quietly she got out of bed and pulled a blanket around her. Even though it was summer there was always a chill in this large house.

Opening the door she peered out into the darkness of the servants quarters. Only silence followed her as she walked down the hallway towards the stairs. As she climbed the winding stairs to the second floor the music grew louder. Using the light of the moon to guide her she slowly crept closer to the piano room door. Claire could now hear every note perfectly. Pressing her ear to the door she closed her eyes and let the sound wash over her. It was the most beautiful piece she had ever heard. Gathering her blanket around her she sat down on the floor, leaning against the cold stone wall behind her. She breathed out a sigh of relief as a sense of calm and peace washed over her, something she had not felt in a long time.

As soon as the song ended a new one began. Claire smiled to herself just before she let sleep claim her, she was being privy to a private concert by played the Phantom of the Opera himself.