Erik knew nothing but bliss in those few moments his lips were pressed against Sara's. He painted every sensation in his memory, from the feeling of his beloved's soft, cold lips to her soft breath against his skin.

Too soon, though, his memory turned traitor on him, and he recalled that it was a monster who held a princess. Abruptly, he pulled away, grimacing at the agony of losing her sweet mouth. He looked down at her face, pale in the moonlight. Her eyes were closed, and her lips parted with the quick breaths that now escaped her. Her black locks tumbled about her shoulders and spilled over her brow.

How utterly beautiful she was! How completely dauntless and fierce! His heart beat wildly with his love for her. She was a warrior queen, a storm in a fragile body. Her courage was greater than any man's he had ever known, for she not only had courage in her body, but in her heart as well! In that moment, Erik was seized by an ecstatic humility at the fact that she had brought her great gifts to him. He had dismissed the Divine long ago, but now, in his personal goddess, he received a glimpse of what kind of magnificence must inspire awe in worshippers. He felt himself beyond absolution, but not above adoration.

All of this passed through his thoughts in the blink of an eye, and when Sara shivered involuntarily, he was quick to act.

"Put your arms around my neck, and do not let go," he commanded brusquely as he swept her up in his arms.

He heard the hitch in Sara's breathing as she must have realized he was about to traverse the same ice and slate that had betrayed her almost to her death. He paused, wondering if he should attempt to bring her back across the to the Carmichael attic. There was a closer option, and he would be gone soon enough. It would be safer for Sara, and that was the most important thing to consider. It was definitely better to concentrate on her safety than the slender arms twined around his neck or the way she pressed herself to him, her hot little breaths against the skin of his neck.

With quick, sure steps, he brought her back to the skylight he had come from.

"You have no fear of heights?" Sara whispered, a tremor of laughter in her voice.

"No," he replied curtly, then repented his abruptness. "Though, the flies of the opera house were never covered in ice, which I find I do not like at all."

He was rewarded by the warm sound of her laugh. Holding her firmly, he eased himself down into the garrett and then off the table that was under the skylight. Regretfully, he set her on her feet and released her from his arms.

Sara looked around her, her expression registering confusion then momentary alarm before resolving into a kind of reverential wonder.

"My garrett," she breathed. "You have been here all this time?"

"Yes," he said, going to the grate where for the first time in a decade, a fire burned. "Come, warm yourself. You are not dressed for the cold."

She stared at the fire as if seeing some great feat of magic, and he could swear he saw tears in her eyes.

"There was a time when Ermengarde brought a hamper with food up here to share with me," she said quietly. "Becky was here, too. I tried to make a feast in a castle for them, decorating with rubbish from that old trunk. I could almost see it, the garlanded halls and the brocade tablecloths. I even made a fire in the hearth burning old tissue paper. It only lasted a few moments, but…it was so bright…just for a moment…"

Moving silently, Erik went to her and guided her toward the fire. He could feel the chill still clinging to her dressing gown and knew the cold went deeper than that.

"Lavinia-" Sara spat the word. "She had spied on Ermie and told Miss Minchin who came up here. That was the end of Ermie and Lottie being able to sneak up and visit me at night. I went without food for two days as punishment, but not being able to see them was worse. I would have gone a week without food just to be able to see them up here every now and then. It's not the privation that kills you. It's the loneliness."

Erik squeezed her shoulders in sympathy, but she tore herself from under his grasp and whirled around to face him.

"But, you know that!" she cried. "You know what it is like, just as I do. So, why do you run, always run from every hand that is held out to you?"

Her dagger-like words tore at his flesh, and he felt flayed and exposed. She had unmasked his true weakness, and in that moment he hated her for it.

"Have you forgotten this face, my dear?" he snarled, ripping off his mask and bringing the ruined side of his visage into the firelight.

Sara's eyes widened, and she gasped, but wonder of wonders! She did not faint or scream. She simply stood there, quietly, her great green-grey eyes fixed on him with a curious intensity. Instantly, he regretted his action. She had been exposed enough to the horror of his face at the ball, and had he forgotten so soon how she stood guard before him, hiding him from the sight of others to give him comfort ant dignity? Perhaps the true monstrosity was in his warped soul and withered heart.

Turning away from her, he replaced his mask.

"I will bring you back to the Carmichael's," he said.

"No!"

He spun in surprise to face her yet again.

"I have risked my life to come here to see you and speak to you," she said passionately. "But more than that, I have come to hear you out. Only one side of your tale has been told, and done so by one who is your enemy. Will you not at least tell me for yourself what happened?"

"Why do you wish to know?" he asked, taking a step back into the shielding shadows.

Sara stood there, staring at him, her mouth open as if to speak, yet no words came. A deep blush suffused her cheeks, and tears filled her eyes.

"Why?" he demanded again.

She blinked, and two great diamond-like tears rolled down her smooth cheeks.

"Because I love you," she said.

A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I try to avoid A/Ns as they take up word count and often shortchange one's expectations of a chapter, but I feel I should add one at this point. So, the Princess and the Phantom is turning into something of a turning point for me. I sent a sample to an agent, and she is definitely interested! I'm stoked and panicked at the same time. So, all reviews, encouragements, berating/begging for more chapters are not only welcome but much needed! I had horrible writer's block as a result of brushing up against potential success, and I need to get through this and finish so I can actually take success by the cojones. :D

Also, I find that while the first part of TPP (my nickname for it - I tend to nickname my books with their initials) was very much in the vein of "A Little Princess," the second part is much more reminiscent of Frances Hodgson Burnett's "A Lady of Quality." If you've never heard of it, I'm not surprised - even though it was the #2 best-selling book in America in 1896 (beating out Stephen Crane's "Red Badge of Courage" which came in at #8). However, I think you would enjoy it, if you give it a chance past the someone melodramatic ye olde language Burnett uses. It's available for free on Kindle. It's one of her adult romances, and I was shocked at a good deal of it. It's actually quite dark and brutal, and there's a fascinating subtext of sexuality, gender roles, and feminism. There's also lots of descriptions of dresses, which is totally a Burnett thing.

I find that my Sara is developing a touch of Clorinda (in a good way) as she makes her way in the world. At first, I was worried that I was losing the flavor and language of "A Little Princess" as I explored Sara's new life, but I think I have realized that Sara as an adult in the situation she is now in requires something more than Burnett's juvenalia style. There is complexity and depth that need darker, richer, more dramatic language.

So, basically, what I'm trying to say is that if you feel I've been losing the "Little Princess" flavor, I have been, but it has been an organic and necessary evolution, and I am still co-opting Burnett's style, as is my mission in Twisted Fiction :D

Anyway. I hope that this A/N has been informative. More chapters are coming, and more quickly now! I have several MAJOR twists coming up, so don't you dare get complacent.

Yours in mischief,

Cait