She was half-flung into a chair in the sitting room. Adellade swallowed, looking around at her unfamiliar surroundings.
"So… You are here," Madeline began. "My own daughter returned to me…."
"I meant it when I said those things!" She stood. "I haven't been your daughter for a very long time!"
"But you are still my own flesh and blood." She grinned. "A daughter who once lost her memories and wandered off away from home-who has been living on the streets ever since...only to return to her mother in a glorious reunion! Yes. I can see it now!"
"No. I am not becoming some little girl you can parade around! That's not who I am!"
"Oh, but it will be. You think that your wretched brother still lives on? I can assure you that I will find him and once I do: we can finally be rid of the monster he is!"
"You wouldn't dare."
"As long as you behave and play your part: I won't have to."
The next few months passed by in a blur. Adellade found herself being paraded and presented-a prisoner of her own mother's trick. She soon perfected the part of a good little daughter for the press, the managers, the seamstresses-only to vanish into her bed where she could dream of being with Erik once more.
"Adellade?" Erik whispered into her ear as she practiced at the opera house. "Adellade? Where have you been? Why do you refuse to come home to your Erik?"
Oh, how many hours she had spent after that with endless tears, wishing she could tell him everything-could kneel before him and confess Madeline's horrid prison to him, knowing that he would find a way to rescue her from this. She wanted to hear his voice, to hear him comforting her with words-a song-anything at all to chase this all away! She wanted to feel his arms around her, shielding her from monsters.
But the sheets she wrapped herself in were never Erik's arms. The birds outside her window were never Erik's songs. And the chains that kept her locked to her bed during her nightmares were never Erik's doings.
He watched as she practiced with the other girls. Naturally Meg had been questioning her, demanding to know if it was all true.
His hands clenched into fists so hard that the knuckles turned white as she answered that it was. That she had simply lost her memory, only to find it once more-to find that she was Madeline Destler's daughter whom she had previously believed to be dead…. That her brother was truly dead-that she had dreamed him up….
He had tried to talk to her, had tried to call out to her in the hope that she might sneak away to visit with him-to explain all of this. She refused still. Months later and she still refused!
He paced around in his lair, trying to think, trying to figure why she would do this! Why she would play the little daughter! Why she would go along with this story! He needed to talk to her-to see his Adellade. He had to talk to her-even if it was for a simple farewell, it would still be enough. He had to talk to her.
He paused, thinking. The opera house's anniversary was soon coming up. The affair was always grand-a traditional ball to be thrown-and a masquerade at that! Everyone was to attend…. It would be such a shame if Madeline Destler and Erik's Adellade failed to show-scandalous at the very least. No...Madeline would refuse to have such a thing occur…. And as a masquerade-what was one more mask amongst many? He was the opera ghost, after all! It would be such a shame for him not to attend.
I will see you again, my Adellade, he thought to her. You will talk with your Erik. You must. You must talk with Erik. You must.
She was escorted inside the opera house. Adellade sighed, eyeing the dancing crowd of masked figures. Madeline had insisted on her finding a nice suitor, which was enough for what she needed. A masked man at a masquerade ball….
Madeline left her to talk with some other patrons. She walked around, eyeing the men. He had to be somewhere around here. She knew that he would recognize her. She held a gloved hand up to her locket, reassuring herself that it was still there. Erik would recognize it just as he had all those years ago.
Please find me, she begged to him. Please, Erik. Please find me.
He sighed as another partner finished dancing with him. Erik looked around, searching for her whilst playing the part of an eligible suitor. He made his remarks, kindly excused himself, and all the things he ought to do to keep up the facade. She was bound to come, and he was bound to find her. It was only a matter of time.
"Might I have the honor of a dance, mademoiselle?" a voice asked.
She turned, seeing a man before her. "Oh. Of course, monsieur." She sighed and took his hand as he pulled her into a waltz.
"Forgive me for asking: but why do you seem so upset at a ball such as this? Certainly a woman such as yourself should be capable of enjoying a dance."
"It's nothing, monsieur." She gave him a small smile. "Truly."
"I do hope you are unwed still. Otherwise I might be compelled to steal you away from him."
"My mother is hoping that I find a suitor tonight."
"Then allow me to present myself as a man hoping to win your hand." He pulled her closer to him and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Anyone who has such a taste in lockets as yourself does have a tendency to catch my eye, Mademoiselle Matthews."
"Erik," she breathed.
"Why did you leave without a goodbye?" He reached out to touch her face and she turned away from him.
"I can't. Not here."
"Adellade…."
"I can't." If I do, then she'll notice, and you'll be hurt.
"Please," he begged.
"I'm sorry. I just can't." She removed the locket from around her neck and placed it in his hand. "Goodbye, Erik."
She turned and left, biting back the tears, forcing herself not to turn back.