Just want to say, I am so thankful for all the reviews and follows. This story was more for myself to write down my ideas but I am so glad that others enjoy reading it as well. Thanks everyone! I am aiming for 100 reviews before this story is done!

Chapter 30: The Cherished Concubines

Erik led her down halls she had never seen before. She stumbled to keep up with him, his long strides quickening the further they walked away from the throne room.

"Where are we going? Erik?" She questioned in between wiping away tears with the heel of her palm. He didn't answer, instead glancing at her warningly when passing a guard or civilian. She had so many questions, her body burning from the madness they had just endured. The Shah mentioned a harem, but that couldn't be true, could it? Erik wouldn't take her to...to that? She shivered as she remembered his final message to her.

I'll see you soon.

Once they were alone again, she yanked on his sleeves. "Please, talk to me. Where are my friends?" Her voice was a raspy plea, aching from crying and belting the opera mere minutes ago. Her fingers trembled as images of Ignacio and Sophia's limp bodies haunted the corners of her periphery. They had survived, but her shoulders shook with the knowledge that they merely delayed the inevitable.

"Many of them have returned to the dungeon." He whispered, glancing over his shoulders. Once he saw that no one was in the hall, he turned back to her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"You were magnificent, a true angel among men." He kissed her knuckles gently.

Christine swallowed. "I didn't do anything. It was you that saved them." She admitted plainly.

Her eyes fluttered down to her shoes until a lone finger cupped her chin, lifting her head to face him. Her breath hitched as he leaned closer. "Do not doubt your strength, little song-bird. You stood boldly before a tyrant and defied his expectations of you. I could never have done what I did unless I was inspired by your bravery. Without you, I would remain in the shadows. Moreover, I was completely unaware that an antidote existed, let alone was in his possession. Because of your talent and earnestness, he brought that into the light. He could have attacked everyone else with that whip, but your performance left him stunned and in awe. It was you. No one else. Just you."

Christine's lower lip trembled. His words were music to her ears. She had finally overcome her fears to become the brave young women her father wanted her to be. Yet every action had consequences and the Shah made them evident.

"But you will suffer." Her voice trailed. "He said you would be punished."

"It won't be anything I cannot handle."

"That doesn't matter. I don't want him to hurt you."

There was a tense silence, his mouth opening and closing slightly. "Why?" He rasped.

Christine stiffened. "What?"

"Why do you care what happens to me?"

Her brows furrowed though her heart began to race. She could see the curiosity in his eyes, but there was a glimmer of something more vulnerable. It was as if he was expecting a specific answer. Her mind raced. She didn't want him to get hurt, but she couldn't understand why. He was her friend, but it was more than that. Every hair on her body stood on end at the thought that maybe it was because...she cared for him.

It was difficult to ignore the heat that radiated off him, the alluring warmth of his body that drew her closer. Yet her body refused to yield to her inner desire. It was improper. He was just a friend. Erik leaned over her, one hand still holding her fingers in his palm. She felt his grip tighten as she opened her mouths to respond. "You are my friend. I don't want anything bad to happen to you, especially not on my accord."

His lips sealed together, his jaw setting into place. Her answer obviously wasn't what he wanted to hear, but Christine couldn't solve his mysterious answer. He sighed before turning wordlessly. With a vice grip on her upper arm, he dragged her up a flight of stairs that curved like a coiled snake. The dark orange sunset peaked through the windows and reflected off his mask. Christine could just see her own reflection. She was a cream and brown blur, a mess of dirt and tears. She looked away, pulling against his grip.

"Where are we going? Erik? What is going on?"

They arrived at a large doorway, the bright oak door decorated with golden shavings and ivory handles. Two large guards stood on either side, their mouths covered in a black cloth. Christine gawked at them. They were twice her size, both wearing baggy pants and a sleeveless vest which highlighted their muscular arms. Two large curved swords rested on their hips. Erik dragged her forward, speaking in Persian to the two guards. Christine did her best to look away from the two men, instead scanning her new environment. She had never seen this level of the palace, its upper floor just as eccentric and open as the one below. This door, however, was larger than any she had seen yet. Her nostrils were overtaken by the scent of rose and oranges, a sickly sweet smell that made her nose crinkle.

Erik's grip loosened, his fingers brushing against her side as he let go. The gentle movement caused her to shiver as the back of his knuckles caressed each of her ribribs. Christine looked at him quizzically.

"Where are we?"

He hesitated, his soft eyes staring into hers for just a moment.

"I'm sorry." Just as she was about to ask another question, he abruptly turned on his heels and walked away.

"Wait! Wait where are you- Get off me!" Christine tried to fight back as one of the guards grabbed her wrists, dragging her towards the now open door. She tried to pull back, reaching out for the black shadow that walked briskly away. She screamed his name before being pushed forward, collapsing against the tile floor.

The door slammed shut behind her, the sickening sound of the lock clicking making her gasp. She turned onto her back, staring at the barricade before her. Why had he abandoned her here? What had she said that was so wrong?

"Christine!"

Christine turned, her eyes watering as Meg Giry slid into an embrace. Christine released a sob as they crashed onto the floor, a mixture of torn dresses and long limbs.

"Oh Meg! Are you alright?"

"I'm more than alright. I'm alive."

They both sat upright, Meg wiping away a tear on her friend's cheek. "What happened to you? Did the Shah say anything? What about the Phantom?"

"Give her a moment to breathe, Meg." Christine looked up to see Sorelli's outstretched hand. She smiled gently at her, her dress torn at the shoulder from her resistance earlier in the throne room. Jammes stood behind her, her hands clasped together as she smiled.

Christine took Sorelli's hand and stood. Though her heart raced with uncertainty, she was relieved to see her three friends alive and well. "Are you all alright?"

"We are fine, though I don't know how I feel about this place." Sorelli motioned to the room behind her. Christine gasped at the sight. It was a large circular room decorated with silks and sheer fabrics. At the back of the room was an open balcony, two large archways serving as doors to the outdoors. Christine could feel the sweet kiss of a breeze tickle her cheeks and she nearly moaned at its cool touch.

Her eyes continued to drift as she stepped forward. The perimeter of the circular room was lined with large canopy beds, each dressed with thin sheets and white netting. The center of the room was sunken in, two small steps leading down the circular entrapment of pillows and a low table. The room was a mixture of bright colours and burning incense. If it wasn't for her stressful evening, she would have gawked at its beauty.

"Where...Where are we?"

Jammes shuffled next to her and Meg sighed. Sorelli answered her question. "I believe we are in the harem."

The harem. She remembered Louis's brash explanations of its duty. It was a mixture of wives, ladies in waiting, and concubines of the Shah. Though it was revered and considered a high honour, it went against everything she knew to be holy. She felt a shiver crawl through her skin as her eyes met with Sorelli's. Sorelli looked away, she too thinking the same thing: what did the Shah have planned for them?

Just before she could speak, a small door to the far right opened. The four women jumped, huddling together on the opposite end of the room. Two women dressed in bright green silks entered. Their dark, creamy skin was draped in jewels and gold bracelets. Christine blushed at their outfits, noticing the deep V neck of their dresses and the looseness of their skirts. It clung to their forms, revealing their mid-drift and slippers. Christine could tell they wore no long undergarments as she could see the bony curve of their ankle and lower calf. Their only sign of modesty came from the white headscarf that wrapped around the circumference of their cheeks and draped down just past their shoulders. The two bowed to the ballerinas, who remained motionless.

They spoke in Persian, short words explained with broad gestures. Christine watched in confusion as they rubbed their arms and hair. The two women giggled at each other, beckoning the ballerinas to come into the side room

"Should we follow them?" Jammes whispered.

"I think they're describing a bath." Meg wondered aloud.

Sorelli straightened. "If that is the case, then we absolutely should follow them."

Sorelli took a step forward. Christine reached out and grabbed her arm. "Wait! We don't know them. What if this is some trap?"

"We already are trapped, Christine. What is the worst that could happen? Besides, there is four of us and two of them."

"I'm not fighting anyone!" Jammes hissed.

"You won't have to. They would be fools to try. Come on, we all need a bath."

Sorelli led the way, the three of them shuffling behind. The two Persian women seemed pleased at the group's decision. They happily led them into the new room. This was lit by torches and one large glass window. Yet Christine couldn't see out it due to the thick layer of condensation that blurred her view. Christine sighed with relief as the moist heat caressed her skin Words could not describe how relieved she was to see two, large tubs full of hot water.

"Bless my soul." Meg moaned. The four of them looked into the warm water, smiling at the sight of rose petals and soaps.

One of the Persian women came forward. She pointed to herself and bowed.

"Laleh." She said, placing palm over her chest. The four women stood uncertain as she repeated herself.

"Laleh?" Meg questioned.

"Maybe it is a greeting?" Jammes wondered. "Or a blessing?"

The Persian woman giggled. She pointed to the other woman. "Mahtab." She stated. She turned her finger towards herself. "Laleh." She stepped closer, squinting as she pointed towards the girls. "Cry-steen-a."

Christine froze. Sorelli looked back at her, her brow furrowed. "Christine?" She questioned the Persian woman as she pointed to her baffled friend. Both smiled brightly and nodded.

"That is their names." Jammes gasped. The group of women all smiled, awkwardly introducing each other. Christine remained uneasy. Why did they know her name? Laleh pointed towards the water and impersonated taking a bath. The four women nodded and Laleh and Mahtab left the room.

Christine forgot all about her anxieties the second they were left alone. The four women ripped off their clothes, leaving them in dirty piles on the floor before climbing into the bathtubs. Christine moaned as the hot water soothed her aching muscles. The four of them relished in the heat, stretching their sore muscles and aching joints as they lathered their skin in the citrus scented soaps. Though Meg shared a tub with Christine, there was plenty of room for the two of them.

The four women barely spoke, all basking in the hot water. Christine took the opportunity to clear her head. She sunk her entire body under the water, rubbing her scalp free of dried dirt and oil. After the screams and madness of the day, the muffled silence found underwater was heavenly. She tried to wipe away the feel of the Shah's eyes and Ignacio's choked cries from her face. Instead, she thought about Erik and the way he looked at her.

"Why do you care what happens to me?"

It is because I-

Christine resurfaced, her lungs burning for oxygen. She wiped her hair from her eyes, taking a deep breath.

It was over. They were alive. It was over. She tried to think of anything else but where her mind had unintentionally wandered. A frantic splash caused her eyes to snap open. Meg was leaning over the edge of the tub, her arm outstretched towards the door. "No. Those are our clothes!"

But it was too late. Laleh and Mahtab scurried out of the room, replacing their dirty clothes with thick brown towels. They didn't acknowledge Meg's pleas and closed the door behind them.

"They better come back with something nice. I've never seen so many silks in this place, a cotton dress would be cruel." Sorelli retorted as she rubbed the soap along her legs. She barely seemed fazed by their thievery.

"You are enjoying this, aren't you?" Meg growled.

"I haven't had a bath in weeks. Yes, I am enjoying this."

"Do you forget that not even an hour ago we were performing for the Shah? That he almost poisoned Sophia and Ignacio?"

"Do you forget that they betrayed us?"

"Sorelli, stop." Jammes plead but Meg's rebuttal drowned out her mouse-like voice.

"He could have done that to my mother!"

"Who cares? You're forgetting the most important part: he didn't. Sophia and Ignacio survived. Your mother is fine. Christine saved us from hell and now all I want to do is enjoy myself for five minutes."

Christine's eyes widened. Is that what Sorelli believed? It was Erik who had saved them. He took that antidote from the Shah and gave it to Ignacio and Sophia. She was completely powerless against him. She hugged her knees, thinking about how boldly Erik stood in front of the Shah. Erik would be punished for what he did, for saving her friends. For so long he had been set on killing the rat who betrayed them, but in the end he saved them. Her heart skipped a beat to think he had taken the path of forgiveness for her. Even though he denied his involvement, Christine knew that without him, they would not have survived. She buried her eyes in her palms as she realized she never thanked him.

Before Meg could retaliate, the door to the bathroom opened. Laleh and Mahtab entered, this time behind a new woman. She seemed older, her long black hair gleaming in the torchlight. She was dressed in a similar garb, though her dress was golden.

"Welcome, my friends." The woman spoke, bowing towards the four women. Christine blushed as she wrapped her arms around her chest, doing her best to cover herself. Though it was indecent, the four ballerinas had seen each other in skin tight clothing for most of their lives. Christine had even shared baths with Meg before, the two of them cramming into their flat's communal bath nearly every evening after rehearsals to save water. Undressing in front of them was trivial. However, being exposed to a stranger was quite the contrary.

"My name is Fazia Nama. I am a wife of the Shah."

Christine felt her stomach drop. This was the Queen? So not only was she bare in front of a strange woman, but in front of the Queen of Persia? The wife of the woman who had tried to kill her friends only moments ago? The four french women looked amongst each other in shock.

"Good evening, your majesty." Meg shivered. Fazia laughed.

"No. I am not royalty. Please, we are all friends here. Call me Fazia. You must be hungry. I have provided you with traditional clothes of our Harem. Your old clothes have been burned."

Her tone was calm, but Christine could sense the air of power that hid dormantly. It was as if her words became law, irrefutable and unchangeable. It caused Christine to suddenly feel cold. Even the bold Sorelli was silent.

"You will change with the assistance of Laleh and Mahtab. They do not speak french, like I do, but they will guide you during your time here. Follow their lead. The penalty is quite severe."

Meg opened her mouth to answer questions, but Fazia raised her hand. "We have a busy evening and your questions must wait. Please, enjoy your baths."

Fazia left them behind as Laleh and Mahtab encouraged them to stand. Sorelli and Meg took the lead, awkwardly attempting to stand from the tub while keeping themselves covered in the towel. Laleh and Mahtab seemed indifferent to their improper state, often reaching to attempt to help them dress and change. Christine watched in shock, her stomach flipping at the sight of such little clothing. No corset? No stockings? Christine dressed herself clumsily, her cheeks reddening as Laleh stepped in to help her with her skirts. Though she was dressed, Christine felt uncomfortably exposed. The four of them shuffled out of the main area, each wrapping their mid section with their arms.

"You will remain here for now." Fazia informed. "This harem is home to over 30 women, many of which live in this room or the room below." She motioned to the balcony where a flight of stairs could be seen from the new angle. "Do not think of attempting escape. It is futile. These two beds will be yours. You will find brushes in the nightstands. We will return with food for you soon."

Fazia barked orders in Persian, Laleh and Mahtab following her briskly out of the room. Christine barely saw the glare of the outdoor guard as he slammed the door shut behind them.

The four made their ways to the bed, each taking turns brushing each other's hair. They were silent for a long time until Meg broke through the thick tension.

"Where do you think my mother is?"

Christine stopped brushing her hair for a moment, her fingers trembling against the brush. "Meg. I think they were taken back to the dungeon."

If it wasn't for the way her shoulders shook, Christine would not have known Meg was crying. "How long do you think-before she-" She burst into tears, Christine dropping her brush to pull her into a tight embrace. Sorelli and Jammes wordlessly climbed onto the bed, the four of them sobbing as they huddled together. How much had changed since they huddled in the back of the wagon, dreaming about the mysterious adventure they were about to partake. None of them could have expected this. All the anger, all the pain poured out of their eyes in large wet droplets as they remained huddled on the bed. Christine barely noticed the sunset, her eyes drifting shut once her tears had ebbed.

-Later:-

"Christine!"

Christine's eyes flew open, her arm numb from being underneath her as she slept. Meg nudged her awake, pushing her up into a sitting position. Christine sleepily looked around to see that they were no longer alone. The room was now full of women, all of varying ages. They gossiped and chattered, all of them on the other side of the room or in the center pit. Christine watched as they periodically glanced over to the four women that huddled together on one bed, all of them curious but too cowardly to speak.

"How many of them do you think are his wives?"

"Why do you want to know, Sorelli? Thinking of joining?"

Sorelli scoffed. "I think I'd rather be a wife than a concubine."

Fazia approached them, a tray of warm broths in her hands. She set them on the nightstand and motioned to the small bowls. "Eat. You will need your strength."

"For what?" Christine asked, her mind not wanting to know the answer to her own question.

"For tonight. The Shah has returned and will choose his company."

Christine felt her heart sink. Her eyes locked with Fazia's which were yellow like a snake. Her lips curled upward in a menacing smirk before sauntering away from the group. Christine tried to hold in the contents of her stomach, suddenly feeling cold and too hot at the same time. He said he would see her soon. Did he mean this night? The thought of his hands on her, his laugh as he forced himself upon her. Her heart raced as she imagined his greedy eyes on her exposed form.

"Christine? Christine!" Jammes shook her shoulders, forcing Christine to come back to reality. "You are as pale as a ghost. You should eat."

"I am not hungry."

"Please." Jammes begged. She handed Christine a small bowl, but she merely took a few bites. Just as she set her half empty bowl back on the tray, the door of the harem flew open. Christine felt her body grow rigid. He had arrived. He was going to hurt her, to take her by force and destroy her sanity in his path. She huddled closer to Meg, her body shivering in fear as she watched a black figure enter the room.

The loud chatter instantly hushed, a sickening silence blanketing the room. Christine nearly gasped as she recognized that familiar white porcelain mask. She nearly sighed in relief as she recognized Erik. Yet, something was different. He wore only his white shirtsleeves which were poorly tucked into his black trousers. He clumsily stood, swaying slightly as he scanned the room. When their eyes finally locked, Erik sauntered over to her. His stride was tipsy and almost uncoordinated. She watched in confusion as he took a swill from a brown bottle in his hand, rubbing his lips dry with his opposite forearm. The women in his path shrunk away, whispering and gasping with fright as he staggered by.

"It is the phantom." Jammes whimpered.

He walked directly to the women, resting his arms up on the upper bar of the canopy bed. He studied each of them intently until his eyes locked with Christine's.

"You'll do." He muttered. He leaned over the women, nearly laying on top of them in his sloppy attempt to grab Christine's hand. Jammes squeaked while Meg and Sorelli pushed him off. He staggered back, crashing into the pole of the adjacent bed. His laugh was languid and dark. "Do you know who you are dealing with, mademoiselles? I promise I have no qualms torturing women. Now get out of my way."

Christine recognized that growl, the anger in his tone laced with a beckoning challenge. Quickly, she stood before her friends, her hands outstretched slightly. He had come to save her, to save them. But she could smell the alcohol radiating off him, her nose crinkling at the sight of him. Was this an act, or was he actually intoxicated? As she stood before him, she felt her lungs cease to work. His eyes raked over her form, lingering at her chest before flickering up to her lips. She instinctively wrapped her arms around her mid-drift, doing her best to ignore the upward curve of his lips as her cheeks reddened.

"My my, little song-bird. I never realized there was a woman underneath all that dirt and grime."

Christine blushed angrily. "You're drunk." She accused.

He chuckled, staggering forward. She tried to step back to the safety of her friends but he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close. Her hands instinctively came to his chest to push her upper torso away from him. It took everything she had to ignore how he dug his hips into hers.

"Angel of Death!"

Fazia climbed the short steps, hesitantly stepping closer to them. "I was made aware you would come to claim her, though I was told to remind you of the rules of the harem. She cannot leave here unless you promise to uphold the law."

Erik sneered, his thumb raking down Christine's spine. She wriggled to get away from him, hating the way his touch made her knees want to buckle. He held up his other pinky towards Fazia. "Pinky promise." He chuckled. But Fazia did not seem amused.

"She cannot leave."

"I swear to uphold the harem tradition. Is that what you want to hear? It is the only reason I am here."

"You were both friends, I doubt that you would-" Fazia barely finished before Erik's lips came crashing down on Christine's. She jumped, her body not ready for his assault. Last time his kiss was unwelcome, but electrifying in every way. Now it was harsh, forceful, and reeking of alcohol. She tried to fight him off, but he pulled her back and tossed her onto the next open bed. She wiped her lips, glaring up at him. That kiss didn't burn like before. It was greedy and brutal. What was he playing at?

"Then I guess I will just take her here." He took another swill of his drink before setting it on the floor. Christine's eyes widened as he began to unbutton his shirt. "Nothing will stop me from earning my reward."

Christine darted backwards, quickly attempting to climb off the opposite side of the bed. But even in an intoxicated state, he was quick to grab her ankle. She squealed as he yanked her back down the bed. Before she could roll to escape, he climbed on top of her. His body pinned her down to the bed as he forced his lips onto her own again. Christine hit at his chest, did her best to push him off but he weighed her down. Her scream muffled against his lips.

"Get off her!" Meg yelled, grabbing his jacket and pulling with all his might. As she pulled Erik upward, he reached behind him and yanked her forward onto the bed. "Ah, is this jealousy? Is there anyone else who cares to join?"

He stood, his arms raised as he sauntered over to Fazia. Fazia's eyes widened. "Stay away from me, you freak!" She hissed. "We do not want you here."

"I see we have reached an impasse. I will take her tonight, here or in my room. Whichever you choose, I will gladly obey. But I must say, I am not accustomed to wearing my mask when in the arms of such a beautiful woman."

Christine stood quickly, pulling Meg away from the bed. Her lips felt numb, her stomach queasy. This was not the man she knew, not the kind soul she found hidden in his pained eyes. Instead it was a drunken fool who thought he could bully her into submission. She turned to him, ready to berate him. She glared at Fazia, her eyes begging her to refute him yet again. Fazia said nothing, Erik taking another gulp of his bottle before throwing it against the wall. the other women screamed as it shattered. Christine was so distracted by the sudden outburst, she barely had time to react as he approached her.

"Stop. Please don't!" She begged but it was too late. He slid behind her, trapping her arms as he hugged her from behind.

"In fact, I am not accustomed to wearing anything at all." He groaned as he kissed the side of her neck. One of his hands clamped over her mouth, stopping her from berating him on the spot. She tried to break free from his grip, but again he proved to be inescapable. Her heart beat against her sternum as his tongue flickered against her collarbone.

"We will not be subjected to such hideousness! Leave! I do not care which of them you take. Just get out of my sight!"

Christine could feel Erik's lips form into a smile against her neck. He pressed one last kiss near her collarbone, nipping at the pale skin he found there. "Gladly."

He lifted Christine over his shoulder, ignoring her as she slammed her fists against his back. She called out for mercy, for her friends to save her, but before she could process it, she was out of the harem and into the hall. He set her down, pinning her against a nearby pillar. Christine gulped at the malicious smile that appeared on his ahlf-exposed face.

"Let's have some fun, shall we?"

Phantomgirl24: I made you wait a week...Sorry! (please don't hate me lol). Even though it was scary I hope you enjoyed it!

Bonpetitepoodles: Thank you!

Lucyole: I am glad you found the chapter exciting! It was quite the tumultuous ride, but I am afraid they are not quite done yet.