CirceRose – your reviews are very insightful. :) In my head it made sense to have Erik return, as I'm trying to base him at least partly on Leroux's Erik, who is SO moody. One minute he's angry, the next he feels remorseful, etc. And I added the line about Silvia thanking him sometime to indicate he thought of it merely as a favor that she would be called on to repay at some point. Anyhow, there is where I was coming from – and I truly thank you for pointing out what doesn't make sense from the side of the reader…I guess I should stop expecting you all to read my mind, huh? ;)

I realize this is slow-going, but I'm trying to steer away from the type of story where the characters end in bed together after 3 chapters. ;)

Madame Giry cornered her after rehearsals, her black-clothed figure steeled for confrontation and her eyes cold. Silvia, humming the Jewel Song from 'Faust', saw her approach and swallowed the notes. "Madame Giry," she murmured, offering a curtsey.

"I would speak with you, if you've the time." Though couched in a request, it was a command, and Silvia could do naught but nod.

"My quarters are near—"

"No. Come with me. We shall go to mine." And with that, the stately lady led the way to her rooms within the depths of the Opera. They were not so far from Silvia's, merely along another hallway – the hall of the dancers. She was ushered inside efficiently and installed in a heavy chair, a delicate porcelain pot of tea on the table before her.

The room was well-appointed, the wooden floor covered with a heavy rug upon which three carved chairs sat clustered around a small table. Impersonal items of décor accented the room but gave nothing away about the woman herself. Even in its elegance it was austere, much like the ballet mistress.

Madame Giry offered her a teacup, its slender rim painted gold, and settled herself in the chair opposite. Silvia occupied herself with stirring honey into the liquid, uncomfortable but unwilling to show it. There was little doubt in her mind that the lady had requested this audience to scold her for the events of yesterday evening.

"You were wandering late this evening prior," the woman finally began, and Silvia was surprised to detect no hint of disapproval in the tone. She nodded in response. "What kept you from your rooms?"

There was little to be done with those sharp eyes upon her but tell the truth. "I had a mind to practice my singing. I didn't intend to stay for as long as I did, but there was a…mishap."

"A mishap." Silvia imagined that if Madame Giry were the type of woman to snort derisively, she would have done so then.

"Yes, madame. The candles all went out, and I could not find my way in the dark."

Silence descended and lengthened while Madame Giry studied her and Silvia returned the favor inobtrusively. "An interesting occurrence, to be sure. In days past many would have attributed such a thing to the Opera Ghost."

Silvia glanced upwards sharply, startled. His warning from earlier echoed in her mind, and she was sure it had been entirely genuine. On the other hand, Madame Giry did not seem the type to betray confidences or run directly to the managers with news she chose to share. Lowering her voice, Silvia confided the rest of the story to her. "Truth be told, a man who claimed that name is the reason for the incident…" Madame Giry nodded, unperturbed, as the singer related the remainder of the story. When finally Silvia finished, the lady in black sat back serenely, folding her hands on her lap.

"It is not far from what I expected. There have been claims that he cast himself into the lake and drowned, or left the scene of his heartbreak, but I did not think so." Leaning forward, Madame Giry took her hand and caught her gaze. "While I know more than most, I do not know what Erik is about. No one ever does – sometimes I wonder if even he knows. But allow me to give you a warning. He has been recently wounded by a woman, and probably desires to wound a woman in return. Do not let him exact his revenge on Christine through you."

Silvia sat back, her hand still caught in Madame Giry's grip, her mind reeling. "You have just informed me that I am, somehow, to outwit an unpredictable man. I can't imagine how even to begin."

The ballet mistress released her hand and shrugged slender shoulders. "I've no more advice than this: have a care when in his presence. Recognize his manipulations and do not respond to them. And beware his temper."

It was all Silvia could do not to roll her eyes heavenward at the advice she could have given herself and which helped her not at all. "My thanks for your concern, Madame Giry," she said instead, rising to depart. The woman escorted her to the door and bid her farewell.

"Good evening to you, child. May tomorrow morning find you in your bed."