Violet's POV
I stared at him.
"Do you need further persuasion?" His eyes glowed dangerously
"Saving me from poverty was one thing. But assaulting my father and forcefully taking me from him, was quite another!" I snapped out of my shock: "This still does not excuse your treatment towards me."
"I believe we have discussed this already." His jaw clenched: "You try my patience."
"May I at least read the contract first?" I scowled.
"I will oblige you." He retorted coolly.
I turned over the leaves, reading each clause very carefully. One part in particular caught my eye:
"The student will not leave the side of the teacher in public, unless explicit permission is given."
"In public?" I inquired with some surprise, raising my head.
Erik's face was turned towards the window, leaving me to address only the masked side.
"When you are prepared, we will travel to Paris and you shall audition at the Palais Garnier." He responded
"Surely people will be looking for me." I thought: "Sending me on stage is the most risk filled idea for a kidnapper."
"However, as of now I have no idea when that will be." Erik continued rather absently: "It could be months…It could even be years."
I paled: "Do you expect people to have forgotten about me, by then?"
"People have shorter memories than you think. And once they see you up there on the stage, they will forget who you once were." Destler answered: "that is the key difference."
Silence fell in the wake of this statement.
"You do not know who I am, even now!" I felt fire in my throat: "I am beyond all that you say. All that you think of me. And I...before anything else, am my own person."
"Oh...I know you better than you think." He drew closer, voice low.
"Prove it." I challenged, my pulse thundering:
"I have seen you wandering through life. Just as I have." He spoke in a strange, quiet voice: "I have seen the restlessness. The boredom...the frustration and the hope. know that you have always wanted something deeper… something better than the life you were leading before. All the time you were waving fans, listening to dull conversation…your spirit was breaking…."
His voice was luring me…every word was a different kind of music: "You wanted freedom...And you were afraid that you'd never find it."
His gloved hand curled into a passionate fist: "But music is the key…to your freedom."
"With your potential…and myself as your teacher, you will be able to ascend to the world above everything else. Your destiny was never something as mediocre as sitting at tea parties, or simply being betrothed into marriage. It was always within the world of the arts."
I remained silent, thinking of all the unspoken, secret dreams I had kept inside. How could he know all these things?
He really was a lot closer now.
"It was never my intention to turn you against me." Erik spoke softly: "I will not deny my monstrous and beastly qualities…how repulsed you must be by me. How sinful you know my soul to be. But my only wish was to give you the beauty and glory you deserved."
The contract lay between us, the paper's corner curling in the grip of my thumb and forefinger.
He bowed his head: "I can only hope that my redemption is possible."
I chewed my bottom lip, feeling myself sinking: "In your own written words, you promise me my freedom once I have become the great singer that you want me to be?"
I tilted his head at me, and I swallowed: "Very well. I admit it. The singer we want me to be?"
He straightened himself up, and fastened his hands behind his back: "By my own signature, and all that I say to you now. I…Erik Destler, give you my word."
I took up the pen, and wrote my name in cool, black ink.
~~~~~~
Nadir's POV
The police were taking their search across the regions, and spreading like wildfires in pursuit for any trace of the girl. Her missing posters along with several articles had appeared in most of the nation's newspapers.
As the sun lingered lower on the horizon, I pored over journals and nests of paperwork, my candle flickering in my shabby, rented room. I had written my accounts of what happened in Persia, written page after page so every last detail would never leave my memory. Here…I had no doubt, I would find the clues so desperately needed. Before I could tell the Inspector all of my connection, I had to search long and hard, to recover as much truth as I could.
I sighed heavily.
"Well…Erik." I murmured, "What was that you said to my Rheza? Calm down, and try again at the very beginning."
~~~~~
Six years previously in Persia
I stalked down the steps that led below stage. I could still taste the wine from the feast, and the sickly sweet aroma that the Shah's mother (the khanum) insisted on having everywhere she went. It poisoned my nostrils, and mangled with the temperature of that pavilion upstairs made it near impossible to breathe.
It had been foolish of me to even think I could escape this event -what with so many officials gathered tonight; but after everything the past few months, I had prayed for rest. But it was simple, the Shah did not trust anyone.
And neither did I.
"I've come to see him." I told the guard at the door.
"Nobody is permitted beyond this point," The guard said smoothly.
The heat of the evening and the crowded audience above, had irritated me immensely. I possessed no patience, and besides, I had much to discuss with the entertainer behind the scenes.
"I am the Daroga. I have access. Now let me pass." I glared
.
The guard watched me for a moment or two, then motioned me to follow him inside. Thankfully the air was cooler and clearer down here; it was a small room, filled with countless boxes, a work bench and a number of the strange mechanical trinkets that I took to be props.
Erik himself was adjusting some curtains that were covering a rather tall, ominous black box; the box was about twice the size of a man, and just as wide. His eyes flicked in my direction, and I saw his chest heave in a small sigh of exasperation. He was dressed in his usual black robes, with golden buttons to mark the occasion.
His mask was corpse like beneath the sickly lamp light.
.
The Guard strolled casually back towards the door, scuffing his feet a little as he went.
"The body of the Grand Vizier was found in his wife's apartment." I said under my breath to Erik, gazing into a far corner of the room: "You wouldn't have had anything to do with that, would you?"
"You of all people should know better than to ask." Erik replied calmly, not looking at me either: "I was nowhere near the time or place of that serpent's demise."
"You need to be more careful." I kept my eyes fixed on the back of the Guard's head
"Or what? You'll arrest me?" Erik sneered:
"You should consider the fact that I might have to, one day." I snapped, turning to him as the door shut.
Erik straightened up, looking at me now, the spark in his eyes dwindling to something far more serious.
"The Shah orders me to follow your movements. It is my business to report on all your activities." I told him: "One slip and you could end up in one of the Mazandaran jails!"
"I am hard to catch," Erik answered
"And a murderer." I glared
His face darkened: "You're not going to pretend the man was innocent now, are you Daroga?"
"He had four young children, Erik!" I cried: "And a loving wife!"
He twisted away from me.
"Ah! You cannot face that can you?! Your crime exceeds anything he may have done whilst living!"
He remained silent and cold.
"I may have been able to cover the petty theft, the disturbances, and the blackmail. But I will not stand with murder!"
"Perhaps you should have left me at that carnival, then." Erik said, his eyes distant.
I clenched my jaw: "If I am unable to stop you, I want you to think of the family you are leaving behind before you hurt someone else!"
Silence.
"The performance will start in ten minutes, Daroga." Erik projected his words in an emotionless, empty voice: "I suggest you leave before anyone realises your absence, and gains knowledge of this conversation."
.
I returned to the world above. This golden room of staggering opulence and royal sweat. A small pavilion had been erected, where the court was now sat on luxurious cushions and silks. Slaves swept feathered fans, the khanum bit out her venomous remarks to her handmaids, stretching languidly. Heads turned at perfect exact angles to mummer, or breathe...whilst loud conversation carried on and continued above the whispers.
This was a tangled political event, held in honor for the new vizier's promotion. Darkly painted with spices and the heavy perfumes of the court ladies. There had been a grand feast, and now the elite had gathered themselves into this newly built theater, ready for Erik's show of the night. The puppeteer of death's strings.
Every step on the pavilion was like a pyramid; The Shah seated in the middle, and everyone according to status and importance held their correct places around him. I took my own position further toward the back, standing with my head erect, my feet slightly apart and my hands tied behind my back. I could still see the space in which Erik would conduct his performance, and that was what mattered the most.
I found my eyes drawn to the newly appointed Grand Vizier; sat on Shah's immediate right, with his own family spread about him. His five sons and only daughter. I was uncertain of the girl's exact age. Her father had been carefully selecting a worthy man for her to married off to; and now in their new status there was a vast selection of candidates.
She tilted her head in my direction: I caught a glimpse of the curve of her lips, and the black, deep pearls that were her eyes.
Anahita... that was her name.
.
A tingle of a bell suddenly rang across the room.
The girl turned to the front as hush fell among the court.
A ghostly, horrible chill filled the place...the chill I had come to associate with my masked, fiendish acquaintance.
Then...out of the shadows in the great space, he rose, like one of his puppets pulled up by string. His robes were like that of a magicians, his sleeves draped. He towered there, but his movements were as light as smoke as he crept across his stage, captivating every individual present. His eyes were blazing behind the golden mask he wore.
If I had ever had any doubt before, this moment took it all away.
I knew...if he wanted to, he could kill us all.
He walked to the back of the stage, his back to the audience, then he twisted around so abruptly that many of the politicians in the front row jumped. (myself included)
His arm shot out, hand outstretched, and began to sing:
"Rise for me...rise for your master
Fly from the twists of darkness
Come to me ever faster"
How he did this, I never found out.
Five skeletons slithered around behind him, skeletons of cobras. They lifted themselves off the ground and danced before the crowd, their heads turned toward Erik. He sang the notes of the haunting melody, and they swirled for him. Hypnotized.
Then in one moment, Erik sliced the air, and every skeleton tumbled to pieces on the ground.
He smirked, bowed before the audience, and tilted his head ever so slightly over his shoulder.
This time a human skeleton came out of the darkness, walking perfectly, its hideous mouth agape and blank eyes staring.
Erik began a mirrored sequence. He would perform an action, and the skeleton would follow. Whilst he made the skeleton wave and dance, my eyes darted about, trying in vain to find the technique...the trick of how he had done this. I could not see the black box anywhere, no clue showed itself. Erik finished his incredible performance and bowed again before the Shah. The audience applauded with great enthusiasm, whispering as Erik slashed the air again and let the skeleton fall to scattered bones. Then after his formalities, he strode away and disappeared into the blackness at the back of the stage.
The Shah took to his feet, and began the slow procession to exit the the room, his courtiers chattering excitedly about what they'd seen. I made to follow, to do my job, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw a movement that did not look quite right.
I was not the only one who had noticed.
.
The human skeleton was repairing itself, bone by bone. Rising horrifically from the dust, it climbed upwards into its original form, standing alone on the stage. Then...with everyone staring in terrified ,silent fascination, it opened its mouth, and black beetles scrambled out of its eye sockets.
There was uproar.
Some screamed with fear, others with laughter and delight, and the rest rushed from the room as quick as they could. Amidst the scrambling chaos, I saw Erik at the foot of the stairs that led below on the right, watching everyone run and panic with dry amusement. But there was someone who was not moving. Someone who had not tried to leave at all.
.
It was the Grand Vizier's daughter.
And her eyes firmly fixed on Erik.
.
Present Day
Erik's POV
It was done.
She had agreed to my conditions.
I could almost taste the release of my curse.
I watched her stand nervously before the piano, shakily climbing the scales, her cheeks flushing.
She could only be embarrassed, but I could see the quality that was still present in her voice. Unpractised and uneducated she might be, but untalented she was not.
"Violet." I spoke her name, still unfamiliar and different to the one I had used to portray her.
"Why do you shrink and quiver? I have just taught you the correct posture to use whilst singing."
She fiddled with a loose thread on her skirt: "I haven't sung in front of anyone for years. And I truly hate the way I sound."
"You are no Carlotta." I thought dryly: "That you can be assured."
"This is only the first of many steps." I told her: "And only your first lesson. I told you, I did not expect perfection in the beginning."
"Now," I returned to the keys: "Again, and more confidence this time, if you please."
She frowned a little, then obeyed my instruction as I played the notes.
"Now for your pronunciation." I said, after four more practises.
"The lead roles in operas will of course, require you to have a considerable amount of articulation. I will not have a tongue-tied soprano on my stage."
.
Nadir's POV Past day
Wherever and whenever Erik performed his little shows for the Shah's family, political or mere entertainment, I always saw Anahita standing close, nearby…her eyes filled with this fantastical illusion, watching Erik with fascination.
It was clear that the her father grew weary and wary of this frightening conjurer that played puppet and master before the royal family. But his daughter remained enraptured.
"She watches all of your performances." I remarked to Erik-, on one of his many visits to my apartments.
Erik raised his cup to his lips and took a refined sip: "It would appear so. Isn't she is forced to?"
"She's not forced to enjoy it."
"What do you mean?" Erik asked lazily: "There are many depraved people at court that watch my shows."
"Not many women." I pointed out
"The Shah's mother," Erik tilted his cup at me
"Does not count." I muttered under my breath
Erik sniggered appreciatively: "You should make more comments like that. It makes a delightful change to your dreary self-righteousness."
"Please keep your voice down," I implored with a sigh
Erik smirked and took another sip from his beverage.
"My point is, that I find it…rather strange that a woman….a girl practically, would enjoy your horrors. The men are supposed to have stronger stomachs and yet she never even flinches." I said rather uneasily
"Perhaps she has encountered worst." The masked man answered, silently stealing a piece of food from my plate: "I wouldn't expect any different from your ridiculous country."
Violet's POV
Present day
The castle was so enormous I was always discovering something new. But the grounds and gardens had been something I had strangely avoided. Perhaps a part of me thought I would be condemned for stepping a foot out the door. But now I wanted fresh air…wind…real light and life, and no more darkened corridors with strange faces and sounds; and after my accident with the horse I had chosen to avoid the stables entirely.
But now, here I was…approaching the door which lead out to the stone terrace, and around the corner the stables. One of the ominous, silent servants bowed to me and opened the door for me. I moved past him quickly and felt the air rush upon me in one cold blast. Snow now covered the ground in a heavy blanket, the fir trees in the distance had ice painting their branches. The world was entirely white and it sparkled beautifully, the castle almost looked friendly in the snow's soft, pure coat.
I trudged through it in my thick black boots. I had always loved this kind of weather, and for the cold occasion I was dressed in a dark plum colored coat with ermine fur lining, black gloves and a gown of ruby velvet.
.
I unlatched the door of the stable and entered inside, stamping my feet on the straw. There were twelve stalls, and all the horses were wearing special, thick coats to keep out the chill.
I noticed a beautiful palomino in the third stall, with the palest golden coat I had ever seen.
I went to her and stroked her long nose. She flicked her ears curiously at me, then nodded her head proudly, shaking me off.
"You're not so bad." I confided to her.
"Her name is Girasole." I whipped my head to the side to see a groom walking towards me through the doors, smiling pleasantly
"It means-"
"Sunflower." I cut over him quickly. "Italian, I know."
The young man had light brown hair, bright eyes and endearing dipples. He only looked a few years older than me.
"She's the purest mare I ever beheld." He said, looking at Girasole proudly as if she was his own: "You'd never find such a calm spirited horse anywhere else."
Suddenly there was a loud bang behind us, and I whirled round to see that awful, dark, demon horse stamping and kicking its hooves against the stall door.
The one Erik rode when he chased me.
I shuddered, shrinking back a little.
"And what's his name?" I asked, watching the fearsome, dark stallion.
"That's Ceaser." The groom eyed him with some scrutiny: "Rumors among the other servants, is that only the Master can control that steed."
"And is that true?" I returned at Ceaser's steady, silent stare.
"With all the snorting and the kicking of those giant hooves against those doors, I don't touch him." The groom grinned: "I'm relieved that I'm ordered not to. I can handle most bad tempered horses, but not that one. He worries me a little."
Ceaser flicked his ears and rubbed his long, powerful neck against the side of the stable door, feigning innocence. The Groom seemed to shake himself out of a reverie:
"Ah, my apologies Mademoiselle. Where are my manners?"
He gave me a bow: "I was so eager to tell you about the horses, I forgot how to greet you properly."
"I'm not a special case." I smiled: "I don't mind."
He frowned at me so I quickly continued:
"What is your name?" I inquired
"Jacques Colbert, Mademoiselle. Chief Groomsman of Master Destler's horses."
"Pleasure." I said warmly.
A chestnut mare pushed her head round her own door, two stalls down gazing at us hopefully.
"And who is this lovely lady?"
"That one? She doesn't have a name yet. The Master said that Girasole and this mare are yours, so you may name her whatever you wish."
"You're mine?" I asked the chestnut mare softly. She blew from her nostrils and tossed her head, I blew back at her from my mouth and she paused, confused.
Jacques laughed. "Ah! I better get back to work." And he moved away to the pyramid of hay barrels.
"You're far prettier than she is," I whispered to the dark mare, looking in Girasole's direction. I stroked her lovely coat: "I think I'll name you…Belle."
All of these gifts Erik was giving me...all these beautiful things.
"Your accent…"I suddenly called to Jacque, pulling myself out of my thoughts
Jaques glanced up:
"I…cannot place it. Are you from france originally?"
"My mother is Irish, mademoiselle," He grinned: "My father French. There's the confusion."
I blushed a little.
"The other servants here hold such loyalty to their master." I remarked casually: "I have never seen such obedience."
"The master is not someone to be questioned." Jacques replied, shovelling hay: "And most of the servants were taken out of the slums, and specially trained and disciplined for the work. They will do precisely as they are asked to feed their families."
"Is that so?"
Jacques shrugged: "the Master may seem rough on the exterior, but he has his heart in the right place when it comes to us poor folk." He tipped his hat: "God bless him."
I frowned a little, and he turned to look at me.
"You still seem skeptical, mademoiselle." He smiled: "I suppose you've lived the fine life all your young years. Hard to understand us, eh?"
I opened my mouth to answer differently, but then thought about my transition from mansion to castle.
"I suppose so." I sighed: "Though it is likely that I too would have been on the streets if Monsieur Destler hadn't paid my father to take me away."
.
"It is a pleasant change to have a lady of the house." Jacques beamed at me: "This place has been quite lonely without a woman's touch, I believe."
I glanced at the thick forest surrounding the castle's dark walls, and the miles of grounds about us.
"It is lonely. Though I wouldn't call myself the lady of the house."
"Why ever not?" Jacques inquired, taking up the wheelbarrow's handles and trundling it past me: "As far as I can see he's given you the position."
"I don't have as much control as you may believe." I told him
"Then make it so." His voice wafted to me
"I'm sorry?" I blinked
He returned round the corner, dusting off his hands
"You heard me, mademoiselle." He smirked: "You may fear what he appears. You may have little choice in what he says. But there is far more behind the scenes."
He fixed his eyes seriously upon me: "You have an influence here. You just haven't seen yet how much you can do."
"What are you exactly trying to say?" I stepped towards him, whispering
Details, Jaques, details!
"I'm saying that you should attend every one of those lessons. And I'm saying that you should teach the master a few things too."
He winked: "But what do I know. I am only…Master Destler's chief's groomsman."
He drew back.
.
"Now tell me…were you taught how to ride mademoiselle?"
Secrets…facade. This excited me. I had some kind of ally in this place it appeared.
But as for his question…
"Monsieur?" I inquired a little nervously. He tipped his hat at me reassuringly
"Begging your pardon, I mean no offence. Just I remembered the accident you had with one of the carriage horses a while back."
"Ah…that." I turned away
"You were galloping?"
"Yes." I fiddled with my fingers: "My father taught me how to ride when I was little. I love horses."
"I saw you out there." He nodded towards the grounds: "I have a feeling you haven't come near a filly since you fell."
"You would be correct. I have been scared." I admitted
"Well, let me help you get back on that horse." He gave me a lop sided grin: "I'll teach you better technique."
"I would like that." I beamed
"After the snow has cleared?" He asked, as I felt a cheerful glow spread through me.
I suddenly grinned: "No. What could be better than riding through the snow?"
Erik's POV
Dear Firmin
Just a brief reminder.
My salary has not been paid.
Send it care of the ghost by return of post
O. G
No one likes a debtor so it's better if my orders are obeyed!
I had already sent the idiotic managers my notes on the upcoming Christmas production. It was essential that my instructions were received and obeyed, otherwise the production would be a disaster. My angel had kept my mind very preoccupied, but I intended to make another business trip to Paris as soon as possible. The Palais Garnier would collapse without me.
I suddenly heard a loud whinney and a peal of laughter from outside.
Abandoning the letters, I walked over to my study window, curious and confused. I had never heard any sort of merriment in my time of being master of the castle. I pushed back the drapes, and saw something quite remarkable.
It was the angel...Violet...riding the horse I had gifted her, in the snow. With her cascades of dark curls bouncing, her sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks, riding with confidence atop that horse….she looked remarkable.
She looked...happy.
I had never seen her laugh before.
And for the first time in what seemed like years, I smiled.
Violet's POV
This was perfect.
This was beautiful!
After such a long time I was smiling, and not only that…I was laughing.
Jacques was clapping and cheering for me, as I trotted round him in a circle.
"Well done, mademoiselle! You're doing wonderfully! There wasn't any real reason to be afraid, was there?" He winked at me
"I am only trotting in a circle!" I reminded him
"Don't be ridiculous. Be proud of everything you achieve. Even the little things!" He tutted
"Mademoiselle!"
I glanced up to see my three maids gazing out of an upstairs window.
"Hello!" I waved to them regally like a queen: "I have lost my fear of getting back on a horse!"
"Are you wrapped up warm mademoiselle?" Claudia yelled, her head turned in my direction: "It is so cold today!"
"I am quite well, thank you." I grinned
"Please be careful Mademoiselle!" Jeanne-Marie called worriedly as Belle pawed restlessly at the snowy ground.
"Why don't you come outside?" I called up to them happily, coming out of my circle and riding gently towards them.
All of them stiffened, Dorthea raised her dark eyebrows at me.
"Outside? Do you need anything?" Claudia asked uncertainly
"It's beautiful out here. And I'd love some more company." I smiled, bring Belle to a halt.
They all stared at me.
"Come on!" I giggled, "Wrap up warm and come and join me!"
Jeanne-Marie glanced at the other two, ready to disagree, but Dorthea smirked and disappeared from the window.
"Dorthea? Where- what are you-" Jeanne-Marie called after her: "Wait!"
Claudia looked hesitant, then her face relaxed in a smile: "I want to go too, Marie. I haven't been out in the snow since I was a little girl!"
"Come on!" I laughed wheeling Belle back around and plunging through the snow