Chapter Nine

"I would have thought," Giovanni said, shuffling into the rooftop garden, "that you would want to avoid the market. You never would have gone before…"

Erik turned from the balustrade to look at the old man, "Yes well, I suppose you could say that I have matured since then. Gotten over a few of my former dislikes, one might say."

"And yet, you still won't join my family for dinner," Giovanni pointed out, sitting heavily on the stone bench, "we would love to have you at the table."

Erik shrugged his shoulders, "I'm often tired after working and want some peace. Besides, I have never been one to eat very much. You should remember that."

"No, I suppose you weren't. But you did eat, which you don't seem to be doing now."

"I eat when I'm out, or take something before I go to my room."

Giovanni sighed and watched as his former student leaned against the balustrade, "Join my family for dinner tomorrow. I want to see you at the table, to hear a little about your work."

"It's fine," Erik answered, "a bit tedious, but better than nothing. I am designing an apartment block, and restoring an old church. The work is far from inspiring, but I would rather being doing that than sitting around with nothing to occupy my time."

Giovanni smiled sadly, knowing that Erik was only telling him so that he would have an excuse to not attend the next meal, "Well then, I'm glad everything is working out. If you wish to find more interesting work, then I could help. I still have many contacts in the business."

"I could find more interesting work if I wanted to," Erik answered, "I am more than capable of impressing would be employers, I simply do not wish to do so. You should know that though, after all, it was you who trained me."

Giovanni nodded his head solemnly, hearing that bitter and sarcastic edge in Erik's voice. So, instead of pursuing the topic further, he changed the subject, "You never did tell me what you did in Paris."

"Nothing of consequence," he said hastily.

"Ten years, and you did nothing of consequence?"

"Nothing at all," Erik insisted, turning to look over the rail again.

"And that is why you left?"

"I forgot what a lovely view of the city you have from here," Erik murmured, "you're very lucky to have it."

Giovanni could only shake his head in defeat. He knew that he was too old to play Erik's games, and frankly he didn't want to. If Erik had been gifted with a brilliant mind as a child, Giovanni had no doubt that it had only flourished since then, and that he would be unable to outthink the man before him.

"I look out at it often," he settled on saying, "the sunset is always beautiful."

"I always preferred sunsets to sunrises," Erik said thoughtfully, "which do you prefer?"

"The sunrise," he admitted.

"Nonno!" Amelia called, opening the door, "oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Its fine, child," Giovanni assured her, "what did you want?"

"Madre just wanted me to tell you that the tea is ready," she answered, her eyes flicking to Erik's back, "you could have a cup too, signor!"

"Will there be milk in it?" Erik asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Ummm…if you wanted, I suppose," she answered, her expression puzzled.

Erik laughed quietly, "No thank you…in fact, I must decline all together. I have things to do; I bid you both a good night."

Erik brushed past Angela as he headed to the cellar, muttering a quick, "Good night."

"You're off to bed so soon?" she asked.

"I have some things I wish to attend to," he answered, turning at the door, "and I wish to get them done as quickly as possible."

"Well then, will we see you tomorrow?"

"Perhaps…one never knows, I may decide to join you and your family for a meal."

"I won't hold my breath," she retorted, "good night, signor."

"Good night," he repeated, before turning and heading down the stairs.

Erik nearly rolled out of bed when Angela's voice rang sharply through the cellar. He rolled over and looked blearily around the room, allowing a small groan to croak through his throat. He couldn't actually remember going to bed, but judging by the book on the floor he had fallen asleep while reading.

"Are you awake?" Angela shouted again, banging on the door.

"It would be nearly impossible to sleep with that racket you're making!" he snarled.

"Then get dressed and come up here," she said, ignoring his harsh tone.

Erik gave another groan and looked down at his clothes. They were rumpled, but still clean as far as he could tell. Running a hand over his chin, he sucked in a deep breath through his nose and let out a heavy sigh before climbing out of bed and up the stairs. The first thing that Angela received from him that morning was a half-asleep glare.

"You're wearing those?" she asked.

"So it would appear," he ground out, "may I ask why you have gotten me up at such an ungodly hour?"

"It is Sunday," Angela replied simply.

Erik stared at her for a moment, then allowed his eyes to drift over Giovanni and the children, all dressed in their best clothes. It took a moment for him to process it all, but after a moment he understood what she was saying.

"You're catholic," he said, blinking to try and wake up, "so you would be attending mass today."

"Aren't you catholic?" Amelia asked, "I thought that the French were catholic."

"Many are," Erik answered, "I, however, am not one of them. So, if you will excuse me, I am going back to bed."

"Not catholic?" Eduardo asked, "Then what are you?"

"Atheist," Erik answered, looking over his shoulder as he went through the door to the cellar, "enjoy your mass."

A/N: It's short and not too spectacular, but a chapter none the less. Now that I am finished with my Halloween affairs (party and horse show) and midterm (midterm day after Halloween Bad) I felt I should add something. And, there will be more soon, hopefully. Please drop me a review.