Claimer: I do own the character Victoria Mordret!

French society did not suit her as much as her native English.

Her Father a wealthy and respectable man from Rome moved to London where he married the Duchess of Hertfordshire her mother. Her mother in return received animosity towards others of English society. When Victoria Mordret was born, gossip died down as a beautiful girl entered society. Her mother died during childbirth and Victoria was given her title as Duchess. She had darker skin then the average English woman yet her face reflected her aristocracy with high cheekbones and exceptional green hazel eyes. Her eyes demanded authority as she was able to be the center of attention in her long line of relatives. Women of the upper class somewhat feared her temper and respected her social status from a distance. Victoria only had a few friends who constantly clung onto her power knowing that when they were with her they were untouchable.

As a young adolescent of 13 she constantly strived to learn about almost everything. She took piano lessons and voice lessons and read as much history as she could. Being dubbed as the "weaker sex" angered her pride and made her strive to be the best at everything. She believed in perfection yet in her mind she knew that she was no where near close to it.

On her 17th birthday her father decided to move to France.

…

(Erik and Nadir are talking to each other in French)

Erik had given up on Christine. He knew that when he decided to let her go with Raoul. She did not love him and he could not take her pity. He decided to move a start anew in his new home in the country of south France.

He sat by the fire in an big leather arm chair with one long leg dangling over the arm of the chair while he observed one of his magical device that he twirled in his elongated fingers. His black mask covered most of his face except for a sensual mouth and strong jaw.

His long time friend Nadir sat on the opposite chair drinking some tea and observed him. He had news for Erik but was afraid to tell him.

"Daroga," Erik said in his smooth tenor voice.

"Mhm?" Nadir said questionably; he knew that if he spoke his voice would tremble.

"Is there something that you would like to tell me?" Erik asked still preoccupied by his device; by the way that Nadir had been looking at Erik, he could tell that there was something on his mind. Erik's gold eyes flashed up from his device and stared at Nadir.

Nadir began to perspire; he knew that Erik was no fool and if he shooed Erik's question away, he would get a hand to the throat, or worse.

"You are to have new neighbors Erik. The Duchess of Hertfordshire and her father are to be moving into the house next door."

Erik's device in his hand gave way to Erik's tight grip and crushed in his hand. The glass fragments fell into his lap and onto the floor. Erik had wanted to purchase that property and knock the mansion down to create more land for himself. Due to the Mansion's history the government would not allow Erik to do such a thing. Erik had planned to move out of his home to move into the larger one next door. But now seeing as the house had been taken, his plans were ruined.

Nadir winced as he saw the blood drip from Erik's cold palms. He stood up abruptly letting the pieces fall from his hands and fresh blood drip on the Persian rug. He stared into the fire silently. Nadir saw the tension in Erik's jaw and knew that Erik was trying his best at restraining himself. Erik slowly turned his head to look at Nadir.

"The Duchess and her father?"

Nadir sighed at Erik's curiosity, it was much better to hear him intrigued then irritated.

"Yes, the original Duchess died while giving birth. The daughter, she is supposed to be a very ill tempered girl."

Erik laughed and shook his head. 'Waite until she meets me;' Erik thought ironically. With his mask on there was no stopping Erik's sheer arrogance. He knew that he had the power to control with his voice and he knew that he was more intelligent than most.

Nadir looked at Erik; a proud 6 foot 4 frame with broad shoulders and long limbs. He looked as though he could be as graceful as a cat but as strong as an ox. His beautiful hands with long fingers clasped behind his back still dripped with crimson blood. Everything he wore was black which contrasted his marble white flesh. His raven hair neatly pulled back; he was the master of sensuality. The way he moved his hands, the way he walked, talked and smelled; he was the very definition of male. But poor Erik was not aware of these things. The horrible disfigurement that he was born with prevented him from obtaining love from the opposite sex. Erik never tried to have a wife because of his face. Nadir would never forget when he first saw his face. It was as though he was a scull a living scull! Only yellow thin paper skin lined his forehead and only two holes in place for a nose that never grew. His yellow eyes were like looking into Lucifer's hell. He was the angel of death, the angel in hell. His vocal chords charmed people in a trance, yet his face made people scream for cover. Poor Erik, no woman had truly loved him because they couldn't look past the face. So he replaced a yearn for power rather than sex.

"I should like to meet this woman. How old is she?" Erik asked turning his whole body to face Nadir.

"I believe she's 17."

"Young; is she pretty?"

"Yes she is, she is a little tawny due to the fact that she is half Italian."

Nadir knew that this caught Erik's attention. He loved the Roman architecture; that is where he learned his skills.

"Any 'skills'?"

Nadir knew what he meant 'does she have any talents to impress me?' Nadir also knew that he valued and loved everything beautiful. It would be a plus if she could be valued for more than just physical beauty.

"I don't know; I've only seen her once. She was riding on her horse earlier I believe that she is still outside."

Erik pilled back the curtain letting light into the darkness of the house. He saw a woman petting a black stallion. She wore black dress with her dark blond hair blowing in the wind. He saw the girl turn slightly and look at the house as if she knew that she was being watched. A smirk grew on her arrogant face; Erik smiled back and closed the curtain.

"Let us meet her shall we?"

"That is alright; you may go and convert with her I will stay here. Remember that she is British, they have different customs then the French."

"Remember what said about customs." Erik said as he exited the room with his hands still behind his back.

Nadir's smiled to himself remembering when he said 'Fuck your customs' and paid the woman full price for her items rather then bargaining.

…

Victoria had seen that man who was looking at her from the window. She couldn't make out what he looked like, but she knew by his stance that the person was definitely man. Dark clouds shrouded the sky; 'it was sunny a moment ago,' she thought. She pulled the hood of her black cape over her head as she mounted her horse.

"Hello Madam." A thick French accent said to her; she looked up to see a masked man headed towards her on a white horse.

"Bonjour monsieur peut je vous aident ?" (Hello sir may I help you?) She spoke to him in his native tongue. Erik smirked.

"Vous parlez Français ?" (you speak French?) He said as he rode up next to her.

"Si je ne faisais pas monsieur puis je ne parlerais pas dans votre langue maternelle." (If I did not sir then I would not be talking in your native tongue.) Victoria said sarcastically; Erik tightened on the reigns. He did not like it when someone talked to him like and idiot.

"J'ai pensé que la civilité était une vertu en Angleterre?" (I thought civility was a virtue in England?) Erik hissed angrily; Victoria was slightly taken back by his outright hostility but did not falter.

"Vous avez trouvé ma raison de s'écarter avant que je vous aie même dit." (You have found my reason for moving away before I even told you.)

Erik sensed the bitterness in her voice; he knew that he was a fault for that. He did not control his temper.

"I am sorry if I seemed hostile towards you; I must apologize for my horrible temper." He said in English; Victoria looked at him and nodded.

"I am the Duchess of Hertfordshire; but you may call me Victoria." She said in her British accent. Erik took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"You may call me Erik."

"You have a beautiful horse monsieur Erik."

"Thank you as do you; although it is quite a big stallion for a little lady like you." Erik said as he admired the sheer darkness of its finely groomed coat. Victoria's jaw tightened but she remained calm. She was fascinated by him and didn't want to fall out of his favor.

"It is true; he was rather wild at first. He would obey no one, but when ever I was near he seemed to calm down. So I trained the stallion and now he is as noble looking as you." Victoria said as she patted the horse's neck. Erik was startled to hear the blatant complement that Victoria gave him. He rarely received complements from anyone let alone a woman.

"So why have you come to France?" He said as they continued on a path in between both of their houses.

"I didn't really fit in with English society. I wasn't 'pure in blood' as they so said. I am half Italian and even though a Duchess there were still whispers. So I decided to leave; this place is very different from England, you French are…more acceptable with sexuality."

Erik expected that she would blush when she said such a thing, yet her face did not show any emotion even close to embarrassment. It was as though she was praising the French.

"And that upsets you?" Erik asked slyly, Victoria was quick to respond.

"Not at all, quite the contrary actually." Victoria said turning her head slowly to give him a devilish smirk. Erik was quite surprised; he valued virginity in a lady. If he became aware that she was not, his respect for her would vanish.

"Virginity is an asset in a lady, even more in a lady with royal blood."

"Who said I wasn't a virgin monsieur Erik?" Victoria said angrily; she did not like him preaching to her what she already knew.

"Who said I was questioning your virginity your grace?"

She swerved her stallion right in front of Erik's path.

"I told you Monsieur call me Victoria, such formality is not necessary. I am a far cry from being the true aristocrat my family wanted me to be." There was a hint of sadness in her voice. Erik's amber eyes studied her for a moment. She was wearing a mourning gown; it fit her nicely; hugging her bosom and curves tightly under the unforgiving corset.

"Why do you wear black your gra- Victoria?" he said correcting himself at the last minute. Victoria looked at him annoyed; these questions made him seem nosy.

"Monsieur Erik your behavior seems more prying than polite." She said as she swerved her horse forward to continue on her path.

Erik knew that she was trying to leave the conversation at that. His temper grew at her detestable behavior. He remembered the Daroga saying something about her uncontrollable temper. He restrained himself from putting his long fingers around her tiny neck. He took a deep breath before riding his horse next to hers once more.

"I, mademoiselle, find your behavior towards me quite abhorrent."

Victoria looked at him with indifference; normally she would walk away from someone who annoyed her. Yet there was something soothing and beautiful about him, she couldn't help but listen.

"You are right; I apologize, for I was being so very cold. I am taking out my anger on you and you don't deserve to be treated as such." Victoria said looking down at her hands. Erik knew that she was in pain; he could not see himself walking away from any pained creature.

"You seem upset, are you alright?"

Victoria looked at him; tears threatened her but she took a deep breath.

"My father is dying; the doctors said that he has about a week to live. His death is inevitable, but I cannot see my one companion die in pain. I wish he would sleep peacefully but he keeps coughing up blood. He was the only true friend I had; when he dies I will be left alone in this world."

Victoria's eyes spoke to him; her intense pain of seeing her father die with such horror. But she kept her head held high and looked trait onwards. When she finally looked at him she laughed a little letting a few tear drops spill out in the process.

"Oh I do apologize; you are a complete stranger and I am talking about such depressing subjects. It is not my personality to be talking about how I feel. I am not usually the one to open up."

Erik's heart almost broke; she was such a damaged creature. A butterfly with a ripped wing that couldn't fly; something that Erik would nurse back to health. Victoria though would not be an easy challenge. She would have a difficult time admitting to herself that she needed help. He remembered though that she gave him the kindest gift. She did not stare or ask about his mask.

Victoria had wondered though what would compel a seemingly handsome man to cover himself. Maybe he was hiding from the law, or maybe he wasn't handsome at all? It did not matter; she seemed so hypnotized by his beautiful tenor voice. It seemed to draw her in like a moth to a flame.

"All alone with a dying father in such a large house, must be lonely for you." Erik regretted saying that. 'Brilliant Erik; way to rub her sorrow in her face once more!' Surprisingly, Victoria did not take his comment in the wrong direction.

"I have the house staff around me; besides, I'm used to the loneliness."

"One never gets used to being alone, believe me." Erik said with a sigh; he knew the eternal darkness he shrouded himself in.

"You live alone monsieur Erik?" Her voice sounded so innocent at that moment rather than her usual bad tempered one. A beautiful clarity to her tone making Erik aware that could sing. A smirk came upon his lips but quickly faded away when she repeated her question.

"Yes I do; I am not married nor do I have many friends."

"Sounds a lot like me." She mumbled; her comment was not meant to be heard but Erik's hearing was exceptional. He pursed his lips; he usually wanted to be left alone with his work, yet the company of a beautiful woman was tempting. 'She will ask me to take off my mask one day. She'll scream in horror at my hideous face. I cannot take anymore rejection at my age. I am 40 and have seen too much sorrow in my days.'

"It looks as though it might rain; we should go inside."

Victoria looked up at the blackening sky and sighed.

"You may go inside monsieur Erik; I am alright if I get wet."

"Certainly not mademoiselle, you will get sick."

Victoria looked at Erik; she smiled sadly and looked away again.

"One must die eventually; if I feel death's sweet release by the end of the night so be it."

Victoria said as she continued onwards. Erik came forth and grabbed her horse's reigns.

"What can I do to make you go inside?" Erik asked almost pleadingly; he found it horrible that such a beautiful woman would be alright to die. It almost made him feel angry; 'how can she have gone through so little and want death as much as someone like me?'

Victoria studied him for a moment; it looked as though he was using every last ounce of strength to not literally drag her back to her house.

"I don't want to go back; I can't bear to sit alone and just play the piano." She huffed; he knew that she was inviting him to her home. She wanted him to ask though and that was something that Erik's ego dare not allow.

Victoria sensed his refusal of her offer and turned to continue on her path but Erik caught up to her and grabbed the reigns once more. He dared not touch her; his own mother couldn't stand his touch, how should a Duchess be any different?

"I need to ask what kind of flowers you would like around your casket."

"Why should I care? The dead can't exactly see." Victoria hissed, returning his sarcasm.

"Mademoiselle do not test me, I am not a patient man."

"I am free to do as I wish! And I do not need someone I just met who wears a bloody mask to tell me what to do!"

With that Erik let go of her stallion's reigns and she kicked her horse to gallop back towards her home. 'How dare she!' Erik wanted to go over to her and break her neck. Of course that was his usual response to people who insulted him. He had never hurt a woman though 'there's a first time for everything.' He grumbled as he rode back to his estate.