CHAPTER 38
The view from the nursery was nothing short of spectacular. All of the roses out in the garden were in full bloom, their heady, aromatic scent rising on the gentle afternoon breeze. Erik paused from his sanding work to appreciate the moment, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He stared out across the open French doors of the balcony and smiled at the vision beyond him. Seven months into her pregnancy, Christine waddled about the bushes, picking a mixed bouquet of flowers.
Erik stood up from the floor, brushing his dusty hands off against his work trousers. He walked out onto the balcony, raising a hand to his forehead to shield the sun from his eyes. "Mon ange, you are the most beautiful rose amongst them all." He called, just loud enough for her to hear.
Christine brought her free hand to her back, the other carrying several long stems. "Hardly." She let out a breath. "Look at me. I'm like a giant pumpkin amongst these." She waved her bouquet about the rose bushes.
Erik chuckled to himself, not because it was true, but because of how adorable she was to him when she complained of her size. She was undeniably quite round, but that was to be expected this late into her pregnancy.
"Are you laughing? I'm so glad you find me so amusing. You have no idea what this," she pouted, tapping the roses against her belly to accentuate her point, "does to me."
Erik smiled down at her. "Christine, really…you are positively stunning. Think of it as more for me to love."
"So I'm fat? Is that what you're telling me?" She protested.
"Absolutely not. I said no such thing."
"Well you might as well. I am fat. I'm enormous!" Her head slumped and she began to cry. "And…and…my feet hurt!" She stuttered between shuddering breaths.
Erik cursed to himself, racing through the nursery and to the master suite next door. Through the mirror, he fled down the tower staircase and into the garden below.
She was still crying when she felt the hand upon her shoulder. "Christine…" Erik took the bouquet from her grasp and then wrapped his arms around her. "Shhh, everything will be alright."
"That's easy…for you…to say." She sniffled. "You're not the one that looks like a giant balloon."
"It won't be much longer, mon ange. All of this will not matter once you give birth and lay your eyes upon the miracle you've brought into the world." He kissed the top of her curls lovingly.
She brushed her hand against her tear-covered cheek. "I suppose you are right."
Rubbing her back, he whispered soothingly. "You will be a wonderful mother to our daughter."
"Son." She smiled against his chest, grateful for his comforting touch.
"I'll allow you think that, mon amour. But only for today though." He teased.
"Madame Delacroix? Le Comtesse de Chagny has arrived." Nicolas called out from the stone terrace.
"Merci, Nicolas. I'll be right there." She wiped at her eyes a moment before breaking their embrace.
"I didn't know we were to expect company today." Erik looked down at his unkempt appearance.
"Not we, me." She winked at him.
He grinned mischievously. "Oh, I see. More gossiping and giggling today?"
"Don't be rude." She pinched his arm playfully.
"Madame, you will pay for that later." He arched his eyebrows, smirking at her actions.
"Put these in a vase for me, Angel." She kissed his cheek and scurried off toward the house.
Erik raised the bouquet before him and inhaled deeply, smiling as he watched her shuffle away through the garden.
Christine greeted Meg in the foyer and together they moved into the sitting room. Josette had served them tea, while they waited for lunch to be served on the terrace. They spoke of many things, the remarkable work Guifford was doing on the sets at the opera house, and of the current play to be held in the coming months.
"You must have a pretty good excuse for refusing the lead," Christine remarked, sipping her tea slowly.
"I did. At least, I…" Meg paused, thinking back on the conversation she had with Raoul.
Christine placed her hand atop Meg's own. "It's nothing terrible, is it?"
"I am not quite sure how to feel about it, really," she sighed.
Puzzled, Christine asked. "About what?"
"Raoul is finally taking me on our honeymoon. He cleared all the business that had been neglected while we were in Africa and we'll be leaving this weekend."
"That's wonderful, Meg!"
"Yes, I guess."
"Well, isn't it?" Christine wondered what was bothering her friend in light of such wonderful news.
"We'll be in Toscane for two weeks." Meg replied softly. "But when we return from Italy, he is to be shipped off to Cochinchine."
"The South of Asia?" Christine exclaimed. "What on earth for?"
Shaking her head, the little blonde girl continued. "He could only tell me that it was military business…an expedition of sorts. He doesn't know how long he'll be gone for or when he'll be able to return." Meg sighed heavily.
"It's no wonder you cannot be excited for your honeymoon," Christine sympathized. "I would not want it to end either, if I knew Erik was leaving me immediately after."
"Oui. How am I to concentrate on being happy and enjoying my husband's company, if all I will be thinking about is what happens after?"
Adele came into the room and announced their meal was prepared, interrupting their conversation. They moved out onto the terrace and continued their chat over lunch. Christine did her best to calm the blonde Giry's fears as they ate, telling her there was not much she could do but be supportive of Raoul. Meg knew there was always the possibility of her husband being called to duty again someday, but she hadn't expected it to be so soon.
After a time, Christine spoke up. "I know this may not be my place to say, but perhaps you should think about traveling somewhere local instead. You could spend the extra time it would take to journey elsewhere, together. I know it won't change the fact he'll be leaving, but at least it is something."
Meg's eyes brightened at the suggestion. "You're right, mon ami! I will talk to him about it as soon as a get home!"
"Talk to me about what?" A new voice called out, as Raoul stepped past the double-beveled glass doors and onto the terrace.
"Raoul," Meg stood up from her seat, "what are you doing here?"
"Bonjour, Christine." Raoul bowed as she waved from her chair. He approached them and gave his wife a swift but meaningful kiss. "I traded places with Francois and so, here I am," he grinned. "If you are ready, I've come to take you home, mon chéri."
"Christine?" Meg turned to her friend.
Christine braced her hands onto the arms of the cast iron chair and stood up. "Go on, Meg." She took a breath and placed a hand against her stomach. "You have much to discuss with Raoul." She smiled at both of them. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must get some rest."
"Would you like some help upstairs, Lotte?" Raoul asked, his arm wrapped around Meg's shoulders.
"No, I'll be fine. I…" She struggled to bring her awkward body upright.
"Another guest I should not have been expecting, mon ange?" Erik called out playfully from the balcony of the nursery. He had stepped into view, still somewhat disheveled from the work he had resumed on the bassinet. Sweat glistened on his chest despite the cool afternoon air, but he had taken the time to place his mask on before checking on their visitors.
"Bonjour, Monsieur Delacroix." Raoul bowed accordingly.
"de Chagny," Erik greeted him quietly, nodding formally at his one-time rival.
"I must apologize for my unannounced visit. The ladies were not expecting my arrival. I…"
From behind the de Chagny couple, Erik noticed his wife, partly doubled over, one hand braced upon the garden table and the other pressed against her stomach.
"Christine!" Erik tossed aside the rag he was using to wipe off his dust-covered hands and hurried downstairs toward the terrace.
"Mon dieu! What is wrong?" Meg hurried to Christine's side.
"Meg, get her to the fainting couch. I'll send for Dr. Gilles." Raoul swiftly alerted Nicolas and Victor to the news of their ailing mistress and then hurried down the front steps of the House of Roses.
"What's wrong? Is she ill? Are you ill, Christine?" Erik spoke hurriedly as he moved opposite of Meg, together easing her onto the fainting couch.
Taking several long breaths, Christine waved both of them off. "I'm fine. The baby just kicked rather hard and I wasn't expecting to suddenly lose my breath as I did."
"You feel warm." Erik held his hand against her flushed cheeks. "Nicolas, bring a pitcher of water and a cool cloth!" He yelled from across the room.
"Christine, try to relax. Raoul will be back soon with the doctor." Meg held her hand gently.
"Really, you two need not fuss over me." Christine attempted to get up.
"You will remain upon this couch until the doctor arrives." Erik commanded. "Your health is very important during these last few months. I won't let your stubbornness interfere in this matter."
"But Erik…"
"No!" Erik told her, his voice full of concern. "I will bring you upstairs only after you've been examined."
Christine sighed in frustration and tossed her head back against the small cushion.
Two weeks later…
Doctor Gilles had given Christine a clean bill of health, prescribing only that she limit the amount of activities she would normally have. He expressed that it was important that she kept herself rested and suggested that Erik move her to a room downstairs to prevent her from overexerting herself by taking the stairs to the master suite.
Taking every precaution necessary, Erik did as the doctor ordered, and even insisted that one of the servants be at her side night and day temporarily. He would make arrangements with Madame Giry soon, requesting that the older woman sit in with his wife, until the birth of the baby.
There was not much Christine could say or do to keep the others from waiting on her hand and foot. She felt bad for all the attention and didn't wish to have anyone go out of their way for her. Erik however, would have it no other way. In this respect he could be almost blindly unreasonable, continually telling her that it was for the good of the child, knowing that it usually calmed her moods.
With Christine fast asleep downstairs, Erik sat in the nursery repairing the music box that had been recovered amongst Amala's belongings at the Sultan's palace. He had finally been able to change the tiny catch within, which allowed for the music to play. Although he had needed to dismantle each individual piece, he found the project to be worthwhile. The work eased the anxiety that had been unrelenting within him since the episode she'd had a couple of weeks ago. These quiet hours gave him a chance to concentrate on something else other than worrying about Christine every few minutes.
He stood up from the floor and walked over to the small table beside the yet unfinished bassinet. Placing the wooden box down, he turned the arm and lifted the top to let the music flow through the nursery. The candlelight flickered and danced, seemingly in time with the notes. He stepped out onto the balcony and closed his eyes, the moon's light bathing him in a shimmering embrace. He somehow remembered this melody, and yet this was the first time he was hearing it clearly. This was the distant tune which lay within his mind incomplete, haunting him for the whole of his life. He had never been able to place it, thinking it had only been some chiming motif that had no distinguishable ending. Now he could finish it, silently humming along with it, as his body was awash in the passing evening breeze.
A gentle tear in one eye, he thought to himself. "Now I am able to give my child something of my own…a single piece of my childhood that I can fondly recall of."
Elsewhere…
Nadir sat by the fire, staring into the flames, lost in contemplation. In his hands, he held onto a worn binder that had seen one too many hands over the years. Now it was resting in his. He thought it strange that Allah had always seemed to make him a messenger of sorts. When he had been the Daroga of Mazanderan, it was his job to know everything about a man and those around him. Sometimes that worked out well, if he needed to know the secrets of his enemies. When that information pertained to those he called friends however, he was unsure of what to think. A moral dilemma to be sure, he was uncertain whether he should make his knowledge known to the person in question.
"Can you not sleep either?" Alhena interrupted him, carrying a small tray of tea into the room.
He reached up and took the tray from her, placing it beside him on the floor. "I apologize if I've disturbed you."
Alhena took a seat beside him and grabbed the tongs, turning the logs in the fireplace. "Disturb me? Here in your utter silence?" She laughed, looking back at him with her jade eyes. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd fallen asleep sitting up that way."
Nadir filled both teacups and then handed her one. "Fires such as this were usually held outdoors beneath the tranquil evening skies here in Persia." He recalled, holding his teacup within his hands and rolling it back and forth ever so gently. He allowed his thoughts to wander on those times. "Many nights I would stare into the flames endlessly. Sometimes they were shared in the company of your brother, and other nights with those that worked under me during my service to the Shah."
Though Alhena trusted the man beside her without question, there was still much she had yet to know about Nadir. She noticed the leather binder that sat upon his lap, given to him a few nights ago by a loyal childhood friend that worked amongst the Shah's personal guard. She had overheard the man refer to Nadir as his brother as he left, his sister apparently once married to the Persian. It was something he had not shared with her after all this time together, though she would not begin to pressure him into telling her about it. She would wait for him to offer such details freely, not provoke an argument that she clearly had no right to make. "So what will you do with that?" She asked, having been told earlier of the binder's contents.
"I'm not sure yet. I do not think now would be the best time to let something like this be known. For that matter, there may never be a good time." He sighed ruefully and set the binder down, wondering if it wouldn't be best just to toss it into the fire and be done with it. "After everything we've been through, this was something I rather wish I'd never known about."
"Will the matter really change who he is?"
"There's no way of knowing for sure, until he's told."
Alhena shrugged, the light from the fire shining against her long, lustrous hair. "I'm just wondering if it would make a difference whether you told him or not."
Nadir held his gaze upon the golden red embers that sparked amongst the firewood. "I will give it more thought and perhaps seek Erik's advice. Ultimately though, I think the young Comte has a right to know regardless."
"He is a strong man, Nadir. Should you tell him, he'll be able to bear it." Alhena moved closer to him, putting an arm around his shoulders.
The Persian nodded, quietly agreeing with her. "This may not destroy him, but others around him may not be so lucky."
Silently they sat before the fire, both lost within their thoughts. A trip back to France would be forthcoming, of that they were certain.
Author's Note
Alright, I know I said I wouldn't be tossing these cryptic accounts into the story, being that we're at the end of this sequel. -From Thargrimm: She lied!- But given the circumstances, I think it's safe to say that there will be a trilogy incoming. It might not be done immediately as I will try to work it in with my original projects that I have slated for self-publishing. Since the matter in question does involve Raoul this time around, I figured it wouldn't be too pressing of a need to find out what it is regarding. Eventually though, it will evolve in a way that includes everyone, naturally.
I wanted to wish everyone a safe and happy holiday. Whether you celebrate Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanza, Yule, or the like, may it be festive and joyous.
The final installments for "Truth Be Told" will not be as long as my previous entries, as you can begin to see already, but I do hope you all enjoy them regardless. Also, there may be a delay in posting, due to the holidays, but I will do my best to get them uploaded as soon as possible.
The Countdown Now Reads: "2 Chapters Left!"