Winter 1852

Tehran

Nadir

Erik was feverish and ill-tempered as he paced around my apartments late one evening. He walked back and forth, speaking to himself, putting a hand to his masked forehead and closing his eyes. I watched him patiently, knowing that he would speak to me when he was ready. My drink was cool and refreshing, and I sipped it while watching him.

Finally, he sighed and turned to me. I waited expectantly.

"They poisoned her," he said simply.

I was upset, but, honestly, I couldn't find myself feeling surprised. I had known that something would happen to Madame de Chagny; the only question was when and how.

"Is she all right?" I asked nervously. Madame de Chagny was a good woman, and I was relieved when Erik nodded.

"Yes, luckily I was able to help her before the poison spread too far. You great dolt!" he suddenly shouted. "Why did you allow her to take a drink? How could you have been so foolish as to not suspect anything? You're just lucky they didn't poison your drink as well!"

I felt my brow furrow deeply. "Don't blame this on me, Erik."

He groaned angrily and said, "You're right. I apologize…I cannot seem to think clearly right now."

"What are you going to do?" I said. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear the answer; Erik would revenge himself in a very noticeable way – even if he didn't know it just yet.

"What can I do?" he said, taking a seat. "Christine is safe for now – as long as she stays in her apartments, hopefully no one can get to her. But when they do, I will not be there to protect her. I cannot do anything…" He sighed deeply and said, "I would send a servant over there – someone to taste all of her food, but I cannot trust anyone, and she would want to know why I would insist on such a thing. It would be too easy for a bribery to happen…and Christine would be beyond my reach." He put his head in his hands and moaned, "I don't know what to do…How am I supposed to keep her safe?"

"Whatever you do, Erik," I warned, "do not do anything rash."

"Of course I won't," he said. "This must all be done quietly…"

I was a fool. A complete fool. Erik was hiding his anger behind his worry. I was suspicious, wondering why he wasn't raging, screaming, threatening everyone, but he hid it well.

"Her husband is home," I said, trying to sound reassuring. "He will protect her."

"He cannot!" Erik snapped instantly. "He has no idea what is happening. This is my fault. I should have stayed away from Christine. How could I have been so stupid? Why couldn't I see what would happen? I knew what would happen – I knew it! – but I didn't stop myself. I'm such a fool!"

"Most men in love are fools," I said lightly. He glared, an obvious indication that he did not appreciate my sorry attempt at humor.

"You must check in on her daily," Erik said suddenly. He looked at me shrewdly as I set my cup down, leaned back in my chair, and observed him for a while.

He said, "You know I cannot. Just call on them for a few minutes every day."

"That would seem quite suspicious," I said.

"You're the Daroga," he said coldly. "Make something up. You must do this, Nadir. I…I'm begging you."

His words made me agree. I was sure that never before had Erik begged for anything. He wouldn't beg were he dying of thirst in a desert and someone had water for him. But I could tell his asking was a serious blow to his pride; he looked at his shoes dejectedly while I quietly told him I would do as he asked.

However, the next day I was regretting my decision. I was on my way toward the Chagny apartments, and I had not yet made up a suitable excuse as to why I was calling on them. A simple, friendly visit was out of the question. Chagny was not yet due back to the palace. There really was no logical reason for me to simply show up at their apartments every day. But the look in Erik's mismatched eyes had twisted me into compliance.

With a spinning head, I knocked sharply on their doors and waited. I heard Madame de Chagny's light, musical voice shout something and there were footsteps. I cleared my throat nervously.

Monsieur de Chagny opened the door. He gave a polite albeit confused smile at seeing me and greeted me in Persian. I replied likewise, and he invited me inside. Madame de Chagny's voice called through the house, and her husband laughed and said something back.

She then floated into view, her face lighting up when she saw me. With an excited gasp, she rushed over and began talking quickly. I smiled as politely as I could, though I noticed that her husband was standing off to the side, looking at the two of us with confusion. He was waiting to hear a reason for my visit; Madame de Chagny was not – she simply enjoyed company.

I wondered briefly if I could translate "I was simply making sure you are alive" into French. I also wondered how they would react. But I could not do the former, so the latter most certainly wouldn't come to pass.

Finally, when Madame de Chagny was finished with her delighted monologue, she waited expectantly for me to say something. I paused for a moment, and I then garbled through some sort of speech, mixing French words in whenever I could. I enquired after her health; I had been informed that Madame de Chagny had been taken ill recently.

Apparently, Christine understood some of my words and phrases, because she laughed and said, "I am fine. Thank you, Nadir." I understood that.

I did not overstay my welcome by any means. She forced some tea upon me and chattered idly to me while her husband sat silently by her side. Occasionally, she would say something to him, and he would respond, but he never made an attempt to engage himself in the conversation.

The next day, I miserably called upon them again. Monsieur de Chagny invited me inside, but I refused; his wife was sitting behind him, in full view, and she was who I really needed to see. I said that the shah had sent me. He wished to know if the Chagnys required anything at all. However, he did not understand this and merely shook his head in a bewildered manner. I said that I would bring a translator the next day, but he still shook his head. I bid him a farewell, and he understood that and replied likewise.

I sent a servant in the next two days. No doubt three days in a row, all around the same time, would arouse their suspicions. I wasn't exactly a friend of the family. Monsieur de Chagny barely knew me at all. It certainly wouldn't be proper for me to call only on Christine. So I kept my distance for a while, sending in servants with things like money and food – all from the shah, of course.

Erik besieged me with questions. "How did she look? Was she smiling? She always smiles, even when she's upset, so I will not let that confirm anything. Did she speak to you? What did she say? Did she say she was well? Did she look well?"

"Erik!" I interrupted loudly. He stopped talking at once, looking at me with expectant eyes.

"She's fine," I said. "She looks well."

"They could be poisoning her slowly," he said darkly, beginning to pace once again. "There is no way of telling, and it's maddening."

"Be reasonable," I said, irritated a little by his paranoia. "Now that her little servant was sent away, she buys most of her own food. She prepares and serves her own food. She cannot be poisoned."

He stopped pacing to glare at me. "You've lived in Persia longer than I have. Don't be stupid. You know that they will discover a way to get to her."

I was abashed slightly. He was right. There were still infinite ways that poison could slip through and kill her. It would probably kill her husband as well.

Erik also questioned me about him. "When does he go back? Did he say he was going back soon? How long has he been here? How long is he allowed to be here? Isn't his time up? Did he say? What did he say to you?"

"I'm sure he's leaving in a few days," I replied wearily. "You must be patient."

When at last Raoul de Chagny did leave, Erik was at Christine's apartments the very same day. He dragged me along and enquired after her health in a most serious manner, asking if she had had any recent chest pains or headaches – any recent unusual aches or pains at all. He was asking in subtle terms if poison was in her system. She smiled and said that she felt very well.

I had to practically drag Erik away from her apartments a few hours later. He muttered irritably and shoved me away, hurrying off somewhere. I sighed heavily and returned to my apartments; there would be no seeing him for the remainder of the evening.

He called on me the next day, saying, "You must stop me from going to her apartments. I'm positively addicted, Daroga. I was actually halfway to her apartments before I realized what I was doing."

As we sat and spoke further, a messenger appeared at my doorway. Erik had been summoned to the khanum. I saw a flash of emotion pass over his eyes, and it chilled me. It was everything that I feared in him – all of his hate and anger, jealousy, bitterness, all focused on one woman. He stiffly got up from his chair, thanked me for the hospitality, and left my apartments.

I spent the afternoon in an anxious state of panic. I could not imagine what was passing between Erik and the khanum. No doubt she had learned of Christine's survival.

After supper that evening, I went to Erik's apartments, a certain feeling of doom accompanying each step I took. What if Erik wasn't there? Where would I find him? Perhaps the shah had arrested him for some matter! I hurried my steps and pounding on his door loudly, praying insanely.

A servant opened the door, and I demanded to see his master. The man nodded and allowed me inside. He then pointed to the back of the luxurious front room toward a door. It led into Erik's personal chambers. I hurried toward them, uncaring that I was uninvited and unannounced.

To my supreme relief, Erik was calmly rifling through his wardrobe, pulling out some clothing and tossing it onto the bed. He looked at me and said,

"Good evening, Nadir. What brings you here?"

I sucked in a deep breath and leaned against the doorframe, exclaiming, "Erik! You had me worried. I was afraid you were going to…do something terrible."

"Why would you think that?" he asked lightly, folding a shirt. He pulled out a small bag and began to put clothes inside. I watched him suspiciously.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"Packing," he said simply. He threw me a glance that told me I wouldn't get much information from him.

"Why?" I pressed.

"I've been told to return to the palace," he said. "I leave tomorrow morning. My time here has been prolonged too greatly."

"Surely you won't leave Christine here by herself?" I said, dumbstruck.

"What would you have me do?" he asked calmly. He finished putting clothes inside and shut up the bag. "I can't stay here anymore. The palace needs my attention. It was my original commission. I will see it finished."

His attitude worried me greatly. "What did the khanum say?" I asked. Instantly, I saw him stiffen, and I knew then that his entire demeanor had been a façade – underneath he was ready to burst.

"Nothing of consequence," he snarled. He straightened and looked at me, and I felt cold sweat begin to line my forehead. The sense of coming doom clouded my senses once again.

"She would do best to watch herself," he said lowly.

My mouth was dry, and I croaked, "Erik…you wouldn't…"

"I will do anything that pleases me," he said shortly.

"Think of what this would mean – for you – for your palace!" I begged.

"I have thought of that," he replied. His voice was as cold as anything I had ever felt now, and he drew himself up, tall and proud. "You would do best to leave court for a while, Nadir…Perhaps take a holiday far away. Yes, far away."

He left the room, sweeping by me without a word, and I understood that, in all probability, I would never see him again.