Truly, I had no idea what time it was when I woke up; in this place, it was almost always dark and gloomy; only the candlelight danced on the walls, making everything look completely surreal. I wondered how it was possible that he had lived there for so long. It was certainly a magical place, but somehow I could not imagine living there for a longer time, especially completely alone. And yet, he had survived. Moreover, he seemed to love it so much more than the outside world I was so used to live in.

My head ached; there was a pulsating pain in my temple, and I massaged it lightly with my fingers as I sat up and looked around.

It was not the place I remembered from the previous day. Actually, I realised I could not remember it at all, and it made me feel quite nervous. Why was I there? Who had brought me in there if I had not made this way myself...?

The answer to the latter came almost immediately. It must have been him... the Angel. And along with that thought came the memories from the previous evening. Those pictures I had seen... it must have been them that made me this shocked. I probably had fainted once I had realised how far it had already got in his head, despite the fact we did not really know each other. And it surely was love...

It would be a lie to say I did not want to love or be loved. Every young girl dreams about such things, and I was not different. However, now, as I already knew that there was someone who loved me, but in such a way... no, I did not want to be an object of such an obsessive love. I did not want to wake such feelings in anyone's heart.

Was there a way to escape? Or had I already locked this cage myself, telling him I would stay with him? That I would do whatever he asked me of? Or maybe he did have enough mercy to let me go if I asked him...?

However, when I thought of it, I felt even more sick. I was afraid of his reactions, for Madame had told me he could be impulsive – what if, in his jealousy, he would hurt me, once he got to know that I wanted to leave? And then, there was another thing: I really did appreciate his help, and I wanted to learn. Would I be able to break his heart in such a cruel way? Would I be able to see him sad? And would he be still willing to teach me after that...?

Leaving now seemed to be the best choice right now – for now, he was still not used to my presence there. He should not plan his future with me there, in his kingdom, and the sooner it was finished, the better for both of us.

Slowly, I stood up. I still felt quite dizzy after the previous day, so I did not make any step right after. Instead, I took a deep breath to calm down and looked around the room I had been placed in.

It was a rather great hall, just like the previous one, without real walls and floor – it was a cave, just a little bit smaller than the one I had already seen. This one seemed to be closed, but there was no door – in its place, there was a heavy, crimson curtain that blocked the way. Also, it lacked those strange hidden paintings, so I could not get to know what they showed and why the Angel had covered them.

Clearly, it was a sleeping chamber, for there was a grand bed I had lied in. Only then did I notice that there was a canopy right above it, and what made me slightly anxious was the fact that it seemed as if it had been made of some black lacy shroud. I had no idea where this thought came from, so I quickly turned my sight away.

I understood that right now I should find the Angel and talk to him. There was no possibility I could stay with him... not because it was not a beautiful place, but because I was not able to survive cut away from the world I knew so well.

And right when I began pondering upon where I could find him (I still did not know how this kingdom was built, how many rooms there were and where they were placed), something came to my ears. A sweet, delicate sound. But this time, it was not his voice; it was a sound of some instrument, and when I focused more, I realised that it must have been the harpsichord I had seen the previous day.

However, I soon noticed that my Angel was not just playing it. Every now and then he made a break, and then, he repeated the same phrase over and over again, and I could hear subtle changes in the harmony.

He was composing.

Although I knew I should not disturb him, my curiosity was pretty strong and I wished I could just come a little bit closer, listen to him and watch him work. But if I did that, how would I be able to find enough courage to become even bolder and talk to him about my departure? Or, what would be even worse, would I still be able to leave?

I knew the power he had over me; what scared me, was the thought of him being able to create a melody that would capture me just the way his voice had... that once again I would not be able to tell him no. And if he had already done it, if he did this once more, would there be a moment when it did not work on me?

Yes, I could try to run away, but I was not sure how. Hardly did I remember the way we had made the previous evening to get into his kingdom – besides, I could still see the gate that cut my way out. I would definitely need to know more of this place – and if so, it would mean I needed to spend more time here, with him. And once I did gather enough information... would I still be willing to leave?

It all scared me so much... and yet, all of this fear seemed to be disappearing as I listened to the sweet tune. It was as if he was telling me not to worry... there needed to be a way for me to survive it... on the other hand, though, this way could not be me leaving this place – but rather learning how to live there.

And I did not want to get used to it.

Now, as the magic of the previous evening had passed, I understood I was trapped. I could not stay with him. I could not help him create his music... It was not where I belonged – and I surely did not belong with him.

Still, I was afraid of losing him, of hurting him. I was the way I was, but never had I been cruel. And I would never find enough boldness in myself to hurt him on purpose. Or even allow such a possibility to appear.

Therefore I realised that I could not run away. I could not even talk to him about me leaving. It would hurt him for sure... but should I not think of my own safety as well? And was there a solution which would not let him be hurt, but which would protect me as well? And if there was not – which one should I choose?

I did not even realise I had already left the room. Quietly, I stepped closer and closer to my Angel, my arms wrapped around me, my eyes set upon him as he sat at the harpsichord, writing something down. I had already heard the phrase he was now catching on the paper – it was the very same melody he had been humming into my ear the previous night.

What was absurd, I felt slightly jealous of that. Of course, there was no reason for me to feel that way, but when I thought that anyone else would be able to hear the melody that seemed to be so intimate to me... which had sounded so sweetly only because it had been sung as if to la lover... I just could not help it. The idea of it being sung or played to a greater audience would spoil something that had been so perfect just before a moment.

Besides... although I did realise it was foolish and selfish of me, I thought that it was something incredible that he had composed something especially for me. And now, it turned out it was not anything special.

Feeling awfully guilty and ashamed, I lowered my sight. I behaved like a little child – he was a composer. It was obvious he would create music... and I could not stop him from giving it to the other people. Especially for I knew well that his music could be beautiful. Strange, yes, but beautiful in its own way.

I sighed quietly and before I thought about what I was doing, I approached the instrument and touched the paper. The ink on it was already dry, so I did not have to be afraid of destroying it as I pulled it slightly closer to be able to see the characters properly. It was just a sketch – many notes were corrected, and some of the measures were simply crossed off.

It was not the melody he was writing at that moment, neither was it similar to the one he had sung for me. And yet, there was something both had in common. I did not know that a smile had already crept onto my lips as I hummed it quietly, curious about the new tune.

Some time had passed before I heard that he had stopped playing. Embarrassed and frightened, I glanced up at him just to see he looked at me as well, so I lowered my sight and stepped back.

"Forgive me," I said quietly, not quite sure whether I should apologise or just leave him alone. One of those could irriate him... and it would be the last thing I could ever do. Call me a coward, but I did not want him to do any harm to me.

As I said those words, he stood up in silence. Not sure whether it was a good omen, I made another step back, thinking of a way to escape – the only place that came to my mind was the chamber I had slept in, but it would not be a good hiding place. There was no door, so he would be able to enter easily, besides, there was no other way out, so I would just end up trapped with him in the same room.

However, instead of him reach out to hurt me, he just picked the piece of paper with the melody on, and handed it to me.

"Sing," he commanded, and I raised my eyes hesitantly. His voice was neither sweet nor gentle; I could hear the hardness in it, and I understood that I could only follow his order. It was just one of the requests to which "no" would not be an answer.

My hands trembled and it made it difficult for me to see the notes, but I looked at them and took a deep breath before I started singing.

He was a demanding teacher, as I soon began to learn. Every now and then he cut in, telling me to stop or to repeat the same part until I could not think of it any longer. Before I finished the piece that had seemed to be so short just before I had started singing, I felt sick at the melody. And I was sure it must have been a couple of hours.

I just wanted it to end – after all, I had come there to talk to the Angel of leaving, and instead, I was forced to stay even longer. And it was my fault – had I not started humming, he would not have even noticed I had got up. Maybe that was his punishment for me disturbing his work? If so, it was effective; I would never do that again.

"Once again, from the beginning," he said as he sat at the instrument and looked at me from behind the mask. Just when I thought I would be allowed to go out of the room – at least to have some rest.

I dared not say no. Making him angry did not seem to be a good idea, especially when I planned that conversation. No, it never seemed to be a good idea. No matter what. Unless someone was insane, and I was not. At least not yet.

I almost had tears in my eyes as I opened my mouth once again. I had agreed to it myself – no, more than that. I had wanted him to teach me, begged him for that. And I knew that if I really wanted to sing properly, I needed to survive many of such lessons. For although I might have a good voice, it needed to be well trained first.

And then, a miracle happened. Although when I had been repeating the phrases over and over again, I had felt as if nothing had changed, now, as I started singing, I could not recognise the meldy I had been singing all this time. Once I raised my eyes to look at my teacher, I noticed that he gazed at me with admiration in his eyes – despite the fact he had been so harsh during the lesson, now I saw he was happy... proud of me.

It was my heart that began to break. I was going to lose him... my Master, my Angel... and I might never get this chance once more. But if I wanted to remain free, I needed to make this choice. I needed to leave.

When I sang the last high note, he stood up, his face bright, apparently wanting to approach me, but I could no longer stand it. Without thinking twice, I put the paper aside and ran back to the sleeping chamber.