"You'll strain your eyes, you know."
Erik looked up from his palace sketches and covered them with his hands as he faced the Daroga of Mazenderan, Nadir Khan. Nadir was the only person Erik knew who moved with the same silence as he did. It unnerved him, how quiet Nadir could be. Sometimes, in his more charitable moments, he wondered if that was how others felt when he appeared, unannounced and unexpected, in their doorways.
"Do not presume to lecture me, Daroga," Erik said. "You know I work best at night."
"Yes, but in such low lighting?"
Silence fell. The two men studied each other and since Nadir made no move to enter Erik's room, the latter relaxed and smoothed out his sketches.
"I see perfectly well in the dark," he said quietly. Then, with more of his familiar arrogance, he said, "I have eyes like a cat."
"I hate cats."
"I know."
Again, silence. If Nadir had been anyone else – anyone else at all! – Erik would have been quite agitated by his presence and persistence. Especially as he made no attempt to explain or excuse either. It was really quite rude. Although Erik supposed that, as this was Nadir's estate, perhaps he was well within his rights as host to impose upon his guests.
"Did you want something, Nadir?" Erik asked. Fatigue crept into his voice. Perhaps he was weary of their silent game; perhaps he was simply weary. It was hard to say these days. He watched as Nadir inclined his head towards the doorway.
"Walk with me," he said. "It's too beautiful a night to waste on the Shah's designs."
Erik hesitated, but set aside his sketches and pencils and rose to follow Nadir through the halls and to the garden. Once outside, he could hear the bubbling of the fountain and smell the ripening oranges upon the tree. Nadir walked at his side silently and Erik got the distinct impression that this was not his friend's first night time stroll. He wondered how often Nadir walked his grounds alone, unable – or perhaps unwilling – to sleep. The springtime air was cool upon Erik's ears and neck and despite his preoccupation with the palace and budding worry for his friend he began to relax.
"I've come to love the night," Nadir said softly. His voice and words surprised Erik and he twisted his neck to look at him. Nadir smiled at the unspoken question. "Since you've come to stay, nights aren't as lonely as they used to be."
"But you were lonely tonight," Erik said. "You wouldn't have asked me to join you otherwise."
"Yes," Nadir said, even quieter now. "I suppose I was."
There was a pregnant pause. Erik was usually very comfortable in silences, but somehow, silences with Nadir felt wrong. He loved their banter and debates and the moments when he could make Nadir laugh in spite of himself. But tonight, Erik didn't know what to say and he didn't know why.
So instead, in a voice even quieter than Nadir's he said, "I have always loved the night. When I was a child, I would sneak out of my mother's attic and climb down the tree and venture through the town. I especially loved the woods at night. The animal trails, the trees, and the stars."
"Especially the stars," Nadir agreed. He looked up and Erik couldn't help but to follow his gaze. "After Rookheeya died, I stopped imagining that Paradise exists within the stars. I think I realized that Paradise is somewhere beyond them... beyond comprehension. And maybe we should just appreciate the stars for what they are."
"I always expected something more poetic from you, somehow," Erik said. He stopped walking and obliged Nadir to do the same. Nadir laughed.
"You are the artist; not me," he said. "I told Reza his mother's soul was among the stars when he was little. It… comforted him. But it was the first time I lied to my child. I couldn't tell you where Rookheeya's soul is. Only that I hope, wherever she is, she can see a sky as beautiful as this one."
Erik couldn't look at Nadir's bittersweet face and instead looked up at the stars himself, nodding. For a man so firm in his faith, Nadir betrayed more doubts now than Erik would ever have imagined him doing a year ago. And he did not hate him for it. It was not hypocrisy; it was human nature. Erik – heretical as they came – grappled with the same question. He wondered if Luciana – wherever her soul was – could see the stars or if dead was dead.
"Maybe we should just appreciate the night sky while we have it," he said slowly. "You and I. In silence."
And so together they stood, pretending to wonder up at the vast universe above. Instead, Erik found himself fascinated by the one inside himself and the one he just now realized stretched endlessly beside him.