Author's Note:
Dear Readers,
Well, y'all, it appears your authoress has returned. For those who are reading my other unfinished books, I will get to them very soon. You see, during the summer I go through a major writer's block. It always happens and everything goes on hold until summer passes. But, fall is coming in quickly and I'm back to writing! I hope you enjoy this little story! It's not much of anything really. Just an idea I had and decided to make longer than expected. But, I trust you'll enjoy it.
I have rated it as T because of one scene in this particular part. It does get pretty close to a *cough*scene*cough* but doesn't go all the way. So...yeah. Please read and enjoy!
sarahandmarquis
P.S. This is based solely on the Phantom by Susan Kay. All italicized portions are from her most excellent work of which I own a very well-loved copy but not the rights. So, all credit goes to her.
X
I am Ester, daughter of Yasmin, of Persia.
My mother, until the time of her passing, was a member of the Shah's royal harem. My father is believed to have been an important nobleman who was granted rights to my mother for the duration of his visit to the Palace.
He, of course, wanted nothing to do with me so I was, when I was of age, sent to live with the concubines in training so I might learn how to please a man as a girl of my station should. I don't know what happened to my mother after our separation. I often wonder but no one has information on her whereabouts.
For ten years, I have learned the arts of seduction and pleasure. For ten years, I have known not the presence of a true man anywhere near me. Now, at fifteen, all my training has led to one horrible moment.
Concubine of the Angel of Doom.
I am being led by two eunuchs and the Daroga of Mazanderan to the rooms of the devil's own emissary to be his bride.
I know I shan't survive the night.
He is an entity to be feared and I am terrified of him. I have only seen him from a distance, cloak billowing behind him, seemingly sucking away all light that dared to land upon his person. The white mask covers unseen horrors.
I am terrified of what is expected of me.
I notice the Daroga's hands are shaking. He too seems nervous though I know not why. It is common knowledge that he and the Angel of Doom are well acquainted. Rumors have even circulated that the assassin is a friend of his only child.
We always thought such things were exaggerated as none of us could imagine the Angel of Doom as liking children.
My escort and I arrive at his door and I feel my breath coming in quick gasps. I shall never cross back over the threshold once I enter this night!
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to retrain its trembling but I fail. Tears gather in the corner of my eyes, carefully hidden by the veil for which I am grateful.
I fear incurring his wrath with mussed makeup.
I am painted as a bride but I feel more the part of a sacrifice.
The door opens and we enter, the Daroga reciting the speech that he must have rehearsed many times during our walk here.
I stare at the ground. Perhaps if I am a willing slave, he will see fit to spare me. Perhaps my death shall be quick.
A girl must have some sort of hope.
When he speaks, I instinctively shy away from him. where is the lovely voice they rumored he had? It is so hard. So harsh.
Fear rises higher in my already panicked heart.
I am dragged across the room towards him before being hurled to the floor before his feet. I still refuse to face him. My veil is lifted and I at last dare to look up into his eyes, struggling and failing to hide my absolute fear.
"How old are you?"
His question surprises me.
"Fifteen, master." I whisper.
"Have they told you what is expected of you?"
"Yes." I once more reply. I must meet his every desire. I must bear any tortures his sadistic mind might think pleasurable. I must be his slave.
"Very well. I have seen what lies behind your veil, my dear. . . now you must be accorded a reciprocal honor. Come forward and remove my mask."
I cannot move. I cannot. Thoughts crowd my mind and I cannot stop gazing up at him, horrified. I cannot remove his mask.
"To refuse me now is to refuse the shah himself. If you resist I shall take you by force and then return you to execution at his hands. But only come to me willingly for this one night and I swear you shall go free at dawn. One night buys you the rest of your life and the means to spend it in honorable comfort. And perhaps, after all, that night will not be so terrible as you fear. . .?"
I am so scared. His offer sounds so tempting. One night in exchange for the freedom. He extends a gloved hand down towards me. I stare at the skeletal member with great trepidation.
I am shaking so violently I cannot move. Tears silently streak down my cheeks and I cannot stop them.
One night with the Angel of Doom.
My hand reaches for his before everything goes black.
X
I wake to a dark room. I am covered in a thin blanket and completely alone. For a moment, I think the whole evening was merely a nightmare and I am once more in the safety of the harem.
Voices from outside the room prove me wrong.
I cannot understand them but I know they aren't pleased. Quivering uncontrollably, I slid from the bed and glance downward at my clothes. The silk is creased and I want to cry over it for no reason.
I walk towards the voices and come in contact with a door who handle I soon locate. Quietly turning it, I peek into the room and squeak very quietly as I see the Angel of Doom and the Daroga sitting before a fire, speaking.
It isn't a language I understand. Perhaps it's a European tongue?
I feel oddly calmer now. They don't seem to have heard my noise so I quietly watch them. Them, being mostly the Angel of Doom. His voice is so beautiful. My fear begins to ebb away.
He seems quiet now, simply relaxing in his chair, the firelight dancing off of that white mask. I consider whether or not to retreat back into the room I am in. I could lie down once more and wait for them to come to me.
My choice is taken away when the Daroga looks up and alerts the Angel of Doom to my presence.
I look downward as a proper slave should. He will make me pay for fainting. I cried and fainted. He won't be kind.
I feel his eyes on me and hear whispered words between them before the Daroga leaves.
I am completely alone. I am scared again.
He is calm now. I recall his anger during our last meeting. His unspoken fury fueled my own terror. Yet, his tranquil air does little to abate it now.
There is often a lull before the storm.
I hear him approach and sink to my knees before him, head down in a gesture of submission. I must be obedient, no matter what he plans for me.
"Master." I whisper in acknowledgement of his presence.
"Get up." He snaps. "I won't have you groveling on the floor. Get up, I tell you!" On shaking legs, I rise but refuse to face him.
"Yes, Master." I reply.
"Look at me!" He demands and I look. My heart clenches in fear for the shortest moment as I believe I see anger haunting his golden eyes but, I am wrong. It appears to be merely frustration.
"You will not call me Master."
I am confused.
Not call him master? What shall I call him? I am his slave. Any other title would be the very soul of disrespect.
"What shall I call you then?" I inquire quietly, fearing raised voice might encourage his wrath.
"You needn't call me anything. After tonight you will be leaving. Surely you haven't forgotten our bargain despite your unceremonious fainting spell?"
I shake my head.
"I have not forgotten."
"Good. Shall you require refreshment before your ordeal?" I peer into his eyes, hoping beyond hope to find some sort of humanity but finding none at all. His eyes are blank as the desert sand.
"Might…might I wash my face?" The salt from my tears still clings to my face. It burns my skin and I needn't more reason to add to the previous flows from my eyes.
Wordlessly, he points to a small door and I quickly disappear through it. The water is cold and I appreciate the stillness to gather my thoughts.
One night with the Angel of Doom.
This set soundly in my mind, I return to the main room where my master is standing near the fire.
A glance is all that is needed between us before he holds out his hand to me. I am afraid but I go to him nonetheless.
I grip his hand and shudder from the cold seeping through the leather glove. My eyes must have betrayed me as he looks away when he leads me back to the bedroom where I woke.
We stand opposite each other in the room. He lights a few small candles. Perhaps he wishes to see me? I stand perfectly still as he studies me for a moment before demanding,
"Undress." I nod slowly and begin to pull at the ties which held my silk trappings against my body. Each piece falls away, beginning with the upper body and ending with the dainty shoes on my feet.
I am completely nude before him. Every asset of my body is on display for his viewing pleasure.
He stares at me for the longest of moments. Lust is in his eyes and I wait for him to undress. He doesn't. Instead he draws near me and circles me. I shiver in the slight cold of the room and his appraisal of me. Perhaps he doesn't like girls as young as I. My body is filled out in the places where it matters but I am only fifteen.
I shudder from cold and fear when he touches my shoulder with his bare hand. His light fingers trail along my back, leaving goosebumps all over my dark skin.
He steps in front of me and runs his hands down my arms and waist before cupping my breasts in his hands. He stares at them as if he has never seen this aspect of the female anatomy.
"Lay down on the bed. Face down." He orders. I hear the strongly restrained desire in his tone and feel it from his fingers as they tighten for a moment on my sensitive globe.
I obey his command and await what he has in mind.
Moments later the bed dips beside me and his hands once more begin to trace my body. I quiver beneath him but not in pleasure. How can one find pleasure in the hands of someone one fears?
One night with the Angel of Doom.
I repeat it over and over in my head.
He can't kiss me unless the mask is removed. I fear I won't be able to endure the sight of that horror. I am not strong!
His hands grow in their intensity, grasping at my body. Has he never felt a female's body? I bite my lip to keep it from trembling but, he knows. The hands slow and began gentle. It is as if he can't stop touching me. What is the draw of my soft skin?
"Turn over." He whispers into my ear. I obey. What he says, I will do.
One night with the Angel of Doom.
He nuzzles my breasts. Unable to kiss them but determined to be close. I don't understand this. I won't move. I was taught how to please a man but he doesn't seem interested in anything I might know. He only wants the physical proof of my existence.
His hands never bruise my skin. He is controlled. His eyes are glazed over with lust. There is no stopping now!
As his hands trail lower, I hear tears. For the shortest moment I believe it has come from me but my eyes are dry.
I peer into his golden pools and they are damp.
The Angel of Doom cries?
He pillows his head into my abdomen as if to hide his tears but I have already seen them.
I cannot completely explain what happened when I realize he can weep. Until this moment, he had been a fiend from hell. A creature to be feared and hated. These tears made him human and, with them, my fears begin to wash away. He isn't a good man but he is a man.
Our eyes connect and I smile at him.
I smile and he abandons the bed.
"Dress." He orders.
Once more I am confused.
"D-dress?" I ask as I watch him bend down and toss me the slips of silk I had been wearing. He yanks his gloves back onto his hands.
"Dress, you stupid girl." I recoil from his temper and hug the items close to me, curling against myself to hide my more private parts.
With a snarl, he sweeps from the room. I slip back into the garments and lay on the bed, shivering. Tears threaten my eyes and I give in, heartily sobbing for no reason whatsoever.
X
I must have fallen asleep after my master and I's failed coupling. I wake, once more tucked under a warm blanket. I sit up and look around me. The sun is shining through dark curtains and I huddle beneath the blankets, fearing what may step through the door.
I am shocked when I hear a soft rapping and the gentle voice of the Daroga.
"Girl? Are you awake?"
"Yes." I call out quietly.
"May I enter?" I respond to the affirmative and he steps into the room, giving me a quiet smile as he approaches.
"Are you well?" He asks. "I found you asleep and shivering. Did he hurt you?" He kneels down beside the bed and takes my hand in his. His fatherly tone sets me at ease and I shake my head.
"He didn't hurt me. He didn't do anything. I smiled and he ran away." Again, I burst into tears. Despite having rested twice since my removal from the harem, I am so tired. I am hungry. I want something of which I have no name to call it by.
The Daroga seems to understand a little of my distress and returns a few moments later with food for me. I eat what I can through my tears and position.
How hard it is to eat while curled in on one's self.
And hour later, I am finally calm enough for the Daroga to question me a little concerning the happenings of the night before.
"You say he did nothing? What do you mean?"
"He touched me. All over. But, I'm…I'm…" I blush to speak of it but continue, "still a virgin. I smiled at him. He tossed my clothes to me and left!"
The Daroga seems moderately confused and I curl even tighter into myself.
"What happens to me now?" I whisper.
"I know not, child." He gives me a comforting smile. "I shall speak to him myself. You must rest. Perhaps after some restful sleep you'll be of a clearer mind." He picks up a cup of some hot liquid and hands it to me. "Drink. It will help you sleep."
I nod and drink the bitter contents down without questions.
Soon I feel drowsy.
"Sleep, child. I shall get to the bottom of this."
I smile at him and tug the blankets around me.
I hear the door close as I again fall asleep.
X
I pace the floor of the sitting room and wait for the return of its other inhabitant. I do not understand what Erik was thinking. He wanted her; I saw it in his eyes when she was brought in. He desired her body above all else.
Why didn't he take her?
By Persian law she was his wife. She belonged to him. He owned her, yet he refused to accept it.
Then there is the khanum to think of. This girl had been her way of punishing Erik. She would demand proof of the girl's loss of purity. She would demand it and a little blood on the sheets might not be sufficient to convince her.
I wonder at times if Erik truly means to get himself killed in this land.
"Fool."
"Who is a fool?" I hear Erik ask from behind me. I spin around to face him, once more astounded at how easily he slips in undetected.
"You are a fool."
"Why am I a fool?" He gives me a lazy smile and makes his way over to his chair. Even without the smoke clinging to his clothes, I know where his past hours have been spent.
"An opium den, Erik?"
He nods.
"Where else?"
"You're mad, Erik! Mad!"
"Erik has always been mad. Nothing new." He leans back and closes his eyes. "What have I done this time to incur your displeasure?"
"It's more what you haven't done. I want an explanation about the girl." He looks up at me as if he doesn't understand.
"What girl?"
"The gift. Your wife." I emphasize the points and watch him begin to laugh.
"Ah, I had forgotten." He pulls himself to his feet and walks over to a drawer and withdraws a bag of gold. "Give this to her. Tell her to make her life better. I shan't be pleased to hear if she does foolish things with it." He places the bag into my hands and runs a hand through his sparse hair. "I am tired." He smiled to himself and returns to his couch to nap.
I wish he could find peace through something other than that drug.
Why did I ever show it to him?
As his eyes close, I know I shall get nothing more from him. Perhaps when the drug has left his system, he shall be logical once more.
I take the gold and return to the room where the girl lays. She is still quite sound asleep and will likely be for many more hours.
The draught I gave was strong.
I fine another set of sheets and smear a little of my own blood onto an area that would be approximately correct. If this doesn't fool the khanum, then we shall have to try something else. For now, this will have to be adequate.
I don't want to see my friend or this poor girl go through the punishment they are risking.
When the sheets have been set aside to be gathered by the servants, I find a seat and a book and wait.
X
I awaken without little knowledge of time and only the smallest memory of my place. I shiver a bit before slipping out of the bed and picking up the hem of a silk gown laying over a chair. It is far too expensive for me to wears so I leave it alone and venture once more into the main room.
I am greeted with the tired but kind eyes of the Daroga.
I bow politely to him as he sets his book aside and stands.
"Do you feel better?" He inquires and I nod. The food and rest helped calm my nerves. I am still scared but the tears aren't so lcose to the surface as they have been for the past day.
"Are you hungry?" Before I can agree, my stomach agrees for me and I blush. He chuckles and gestures for me to follow him into the small kitchen.
A fine, if simple, meal is spread out on the table.
"Eat, child." I look at him for a moment before descending upon the meal with a vengeance. As I eat, he watches me. I look away from him and then quietly ask,
"What will happen to me?" I haven't performed my duty and, if anything, I have failed it. My master didn't want me. Rejection is lethal.
"You will stay here until I can speak with your master. He doesn't like to follow rules. Unfortunately, not following them may end with your dying. I shall do all I can."
I nod once and finish my meal. The henna is still bright and I hide my hands in the folds of my silk garments.
"I left the dress for you to change into. Would you like a bath?" I nod once more. A bath sounds lovely! My skin itches and I want nothing more than to soak in something cool.
"Yes, I would, Sir."
"Then, I will show you how to work the bath."
The Daroga shows me and leaves me to clean myself.
I strip the bits of silk off my body and run my fingers over my body, surprised at a few marks on my skin. My master must have gripped harder than I thought.
While I may never look at my body the same again, I don't feel violated.
I fill the tub with water from the taps and slide into the cool liquid, relishing the feeling of it rushing over my tired body and cleansing it of any foulness.
I will trust the Daroga with what shall happen to me.
He has been kind to me.
X
I wait for Erik to wake from his stupor and I can only hope he is in a pleasant mood. I am not consensual with being strangled this evening.
I hear the girl finish her bath and I see her slip between the bathroom and the bedroom, the silk remnants of her outfit, covering private parts.
Moments later, she emerges, clothed in the brown silk gown with the gold embroidery.
She is beautiful.
I do not blame Erik for struggling to resist his desire. I only wish to know why he did.
She approaches me quietly and takes a seat on the floor near me. Her brown eyes are filled with fear but she is under control.
Tears won't fall now.
Her eyes stray to the prostrate form of Erik and then back to me.
"Will he hurt me?" I suppose she is somewhat at ease with me. I don't mind. I am old enough to be her father after all.
"I don't know, child. I have never see him hurt a woman." Many, many men though. He is a murderer of men.
"Will he be gentle?" I don't know the answer to this so I shrug. She trembles and hugs herself.
"I'm frightened."
"Of what, child?"
"I don't know. Him, this place, my job." My heart reaches out to her as I admonish,
"He is but a man. You must understand that. Think of him as a man and resist your fear. Fear will only drive him to madness."
She nods and runs her fingers over the henna.
"He has always been a fiend. A messenger from the abbess. Death's own general. I am young! I don't know what to do."
I begin to refer to her as 'child' as I realize I have yet to learn her name.
"What is your name, child?"
"Ester."
"Meaning star." I smile at her. "Perhaps you shall be a star to him."
"I don't think I am strong enough." She whispers, scooting towards him, her henna adorned hand reaching out to his slumbering body before yanking it back against her body.
"Perhaps you are."
"He promised that one night with him and I would be free. What will happen to me when I am free? I know nothing beyond how to please a man."
"You might find someone to teach you a trade. Or even a husband of your own choosing?" The girl hangs her head.
"Would I be safe here?" Her gaze is damp as tears fill her eyes. I sense she simply wants someone to hold her and whisper it will be all right. But, I don't know if it will be.
"Yes." I respond though I am not sure.
"Then, if he should resume the bargain, I should like to remain here for a while before I am sent away. I am too bold for saying so?" I shake my head.
"No, child, you are not. I am not your master. You may speak to me freely through the entirety of our acquaintance."
"Thank you, sir." She replies before standing and retreating towards the bedroom. "I should like to rest now." Her eyes linger on the sleeping form on the couch before she vanishes back behind the door.
I sit and wait for Erik to wake.
X
He wakes sometime near midnight. He is at first groggy so I don't bother him with any of the problems currently besetting us. He eats something and plays his violin for nearly an hour before he decides to notice my attempts at gaining his attention.
"What do you want?" I watch him set the violin down and I gesture towards the door.
"There has been a new development involving your bride."
"A new development? I thought she would be long gone by now. Surely you gave her the gold?"
I shake my head.
"She is a frightened to be on her own. She asked me if she would be safe here and then requested that she be allowed to stay beyond your bargain." Erik gazes at me, going over the provided information several times in his brain.
"She wishes to stay?
"Yes. I promised her she would be safe here."
"I don't hurt women." Erik mutters beneath his breath and returns to his violin playing, completely ignoring me once more. I think about going to Ester to tell her the news but decide against it. Erik can tell her when it suits him.
I can say nothing more to him right now.
I say my goodbyes and leave for home.
X
When Nadir has been gone for a great length of time, I set down my violin and look towards my bedroom door.
Beyond the wood is a woman.
My wife by Persian law.
A girl brave enough to suffer through my advances to gain her freedom.
She who smiled at me.
My heart thunders as I remember the sight of her, naked in my bed, a smile on her face. I cried and she smiled.
I am weak. I desired her body for she was very beautiful. Dainty feet, long legs, broad hips, narrow waist, full bosom, and perfect face. All of it painted in the loveliest shade of caramel. I should have taken her. But, I am no man. I am a monster. Her smile struck me in ways I don't understand. Perhaps I never will.
I think of her as so young, yet I am no more than ten years her senior.
I approach the bedroom door and crack it open, peering around the door.
She is sleeping beneath covers, her dark eyes hidden by black eyelashes. She doesn't stir as I sneak to her side and reach out, hoping to capture the feeling of her skin once more against mine. Just before our hands connect, I yank my fingers back.
I shouldn't touch her. I abused her too much already.
She is so bold.
I admire the slope of her jaw and the gentle flow of air from between her lips. They are plump. I wonder in passing what they might feel like on mine.
I shake the thoughts from my mind.
I shan't ever kiss her or any other woman.
As I study her features, her brown eyes open and she into my eyes, fear filling hers yet she doesn't pull away.
"Sir?" I remember my command for her to never call me 'master' and I rise quickly, placing distance between us.
"The Daroga informed me that you wish to remain here until future notice?" She nods quickly.
"I have no money, Sir. If you would be so kind to your servant as to allow her a corner in your apartment until she has money, she would be most grateful."
I wave away her supplications.
"You earned your freedom last night. This is yours." I pass her the bag of gold sitting by her head.
She takes it from me and opens it, her eyes widening.
"Sir…" She whispered, pulling out one of the gold pieces.
"You are no man's slave. Use it responsibly." I turn away and depart, the final sounds ringing in my ears are those of her counting her fortune.
When I wake in the morning, she is long gone.