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Christine

Chapter 26

The Crown

"What color is this one?"

I lifted my gaze from where my paintbrush touched the paper and looked at the bottle of paint that Reza held in his hands. We were both on the floor of my room. He'd brought his violinist toy in with him to spend time with me, while I laid on my stomach and painted. I've never dabbled in paint much before - I preferred pens and pencils - but Nadir said he had some and asked me if I wanted to use it. I said yes.

"That one," I said, "is called pink."

"What does pink sound like?" he asked, leaning forward, resting a hand on his crossed legs. Parvana was sitting in the chair behind him.

I smiled. Initially, I'd tried simply painting over pictures I'd already drawn. But when Reza wanted to join me in here, I asked him what I should paint. He said that I should paint a crown - that he wanted to wear it and pretend to be a prince. I liked the idea and agreed.

As of right now, all I'd done was draw the crown's outline so that I could later cut it out. I'd also painted blue and yellow gems onto the base.

I dropped the paintbrush into the cup of water to let it soak the colors out and put my head into one of my hands, examining the bottle of pink in Reza's hand. He'd asked me, first, what blue looked like. When it became impossible for me to answer that question without simply saying "it looks like blue", I contextualized it by saying that it sounded like gentle humming and oceans lapping on the shore. He was satisfied, and then asked what yellow sounded like - and I said that it sounded like laughter and a light breeze.

So what did pink sound like?

"It sounds like..." I narrowed my eyes at the bottle. "It sounds like someone singing a beautiful song."

He nodded and placed the bottle down. "You should add pink to the crown."

I reached for the bottle. "All right."

Reza smiled in satisfaction and turned to his right, back to the toy, and clapped. The violin music started.

Three days.

It had been only three days since Erik and I had seen the dead Echo in the hidden halls of the Palace. And yet it seemed like weeks ago. The involuntary visions of the frozen, frightened face above the bloody slit neck faded with every passing hour, but what stayed firmly in place was the tight feeling in my stomach every time I saw Nadir.

Something wasn't right.

If Nadir wanted the murder solved quickly so that Echo Hall could retain its safe status, that didn't sit well with me - that meant he was putting convenience over the lives of others. Over Erik's life. My life.

If he wanted the murder solved quickly because he wanted the investigation closed, not to be opened again, not to be looked further into...that I liked even less.

But what reason could he have for killing, or supporting the killing, of one of his own Echoes? The Echo who found the Violet Dawn, no less. If anything, it would stand to reason that the dead Echo should have been rewarded. The Violet Dawn wanted to kill Erik and me, and Nadir didn't want Erik dead. He didn't want me dead.

Did he?

Though he was still kind, though I wanted to feel safe in his home, every time I saw Nadir, I felt jumpy. Erik, I could tell, felt the same. He'd started keeping his conversations with Nadir quite short when he could, and insisted that he would hold the lessons in my room in the Daroga's house so that I wasn't passing through Echo Hall at all.

I'd pointed out that he was still passing through, but he said not to worry. That he could take care of himself quite easily.

I looked to the bedroom door. I knew that, at this very moment, Erik and Nadir were downstairs discussing their plans - Ibrahim would be joining them soon. I still had no idea what the plans entailed, though I knew Erik had quite a lot to do with it.

There.

That right there proved that the Daroga didn't want to kill Erik. He needed Erik to fulfill his wish to punish the Shah.

But, still, he didn't need me.

I shook the thought away.

I had to stop this paranoia before it tore my mind into mad bits.

Nadir didn't want me dead. There was no possible way. Why would he want that? Because I was taking too much of Erik's time? No, he'd said himself that he was one of my friends, and if I started doubting any more friendships after what happened with Amir, I'd fall to pieces. I'd start doubting Ibrahim. I'd doubt Mitra. Even Reza.

I'd doubt Erik.

Again.

And I wanted to trust them. I wanted to trust them all.

I finished adding pink to the crown - intricate swirls that looped around the gems and veered off into delicate branches. I went to my knees and then to my feet, picking up the paper and setting it on the bedside table to dry. I then sat back down, across from Reza, so that the toy was between us.

"Let's try to clap as hard as we can," I said, "to see just how quickly this little man can play."

He grinned and did as I said. I smiled even wider and clapped my hands as quickly as I could. I found myself leaning forward as I concentrated on bringing my hands together and apart with as much speed as I could muster. Reza was doing the same. His face scrunched in concentration and he let out a small growl. The noise was so cute - and the automaton was playing with such ridiculous fervor - that I laughed and ceased clapping. Reza's face broke into a smile again and he stopped a well. Parvana looked just as pleased.

My father always said that music and laughter were universal languages.

"That was fun!" he said. He picked up the toy and fingered the small instrument in its hands. "Erik said that this instrument is called a violet."

"Violin," I corrected.

"Oh."

"My father plays the violin."

He blinked in surprise. "You have a father?"

The corners of my lips tugged upward. "Everyone has a father."

"Erik doesn't." He put the toy back down onto the ground.

"He must have at some point."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Erik is magic. He told me that he was hatched from an egg in the mountains where sorcerers enchant the trees and dragons fly overhead."

I looked to the bedroom door again, unsure whether to find that origin story amusing or very sad. Did he really think himself removed from humanity, a monstrous thing that was hatched, or was I thinking too deeply on the little tale?

After a time, I stood up and went to the paper. The paint was dry now, so I folded the ends of the crowns outline and carefully tore it from the rest of the paper. I did a fairly decent job, only a few nicks, a few bits of uneven edge. I took the two ends of the crown and went to the floor, adding a bit of paint to one end folded the other end over it, making them touch and hold together like glue. Now it only needed to dry again so that it wouldn't come undone.

And when the paint-glue was at last dry, I informed Reza that his crown was ready, but he no longer wanted it.

"But I made it for you!" I protested.

"I decided I want to be a sorcerer like Erik, not a prince." His eyes lit in excitement. "What do sorcerers wear?"

"I don't know." I looked at the finished product in my hands. "Maybe they wear crowns."

"Does Erik wear a crown?"

"No."

He pondered this for a moment, bringing a pointer finger to his lips. "You could give it to him. He'd like it. Especially since it's from me."

I gaped. "You? I made the crown, Reza."

"Yes, but it was for me, and now I'm giving it to Erik, so it's from me."

I smiled and shook my head. "All right. Fine. It can be from you."

"Can you go and give it to him?"

"I can later."

"Can you now?"

I looked at the crown. "I think that he is busy."

"Doing what?"

"Just...talking to your father."

"About what?"

"Nothing important, I don't think." That was, of course, a lie - but I couldn't tell Reza the topic.

"It will only take a moment to give it to him."

I thinned my lips. "We should wait."

"Then I can give it to him, if they're not talking about anything important."

Reza's hand began to reach for the crown, but I quickly stood. "No," I said hastily, "I can...I can go down. I'll see if Erik is free for a moment. If he is, I will hand it to him. If they are busy, we will give it to him later. Does that sound good?"

He smiled. "Yes."

I said I would be back soon. Holding the paper crown in my hands, suddenly very nervous, I left the bedroom and went into the upstairs hallway.

I wouldn't actually interrupt. Not if Nadir and Erik were speaking seriously. I'd go downstairs for a moment and then come right back up.

And that's what I did. I made my way down the stairs; I stood there for half a minute and waited. I could hear Nadir and Erik talking, but from where I stood, I couldn't make out their words.

I was about to go back up the stairs, when Ibrahim emerged from around the corner, from the direction of the study. He saw me and brightened.

"Good morning, Rose," he purred. "How are you today?"

"I'm all right," I said, "and you?"

"Excellent!" He looked me up and down, toward the staircase banister, and finally at the paper crown in my hand. "What are you doing at the bottom of the stairs? Ejected from the meeting in the dining room?"

"No, I wasn't part of the meeting."

His eyes twinkled. "Trying to spy, then?"

I flushed. "No, of course not."

"Then what?"

"I..." Didn't have a good answer. I also looked at the crown.

He took it from me before I could protest. "What is this?" He held it up in front of his face to look, turning it around, on its side, upside down to examine it, like it were a precious gem and not crudely cut parchment and paint.

"A crown."

"Did you make this?"

I nodded.

"For whom?"

"Reza," I said, "but he wanted me to give it to Erik instead."

He raised his brows at me. "And why do you not?"

"Because he's in a meeting with Nadir."

"So you stand at the bottom of the stairs instead, waiting for it to miraculously leave your hands and enter the dining room?" He looked at me dubiously. "I'm beginning to think the French may not be right in the head. Come." He put a hand between my shoulder-blades and escorted me forward. "We will go and give Erik his gift. It is quite lovely - better than the Shah's crown."

I looked at him. His well-groomed bearded face was stretched into a grin.

"Won't Nadir be upset? He wasn't happy at my interruption last time and-"

"Rose," he responded, "I am the Grand Vizier. I can do as I please. And since you are now my guest to this meeting, you may do as you please as well."

Feeling only slightly more confident, I allowed Ibrahim to push me into the dining room. I was greeted to a bored-looking Erik leaning back in his chair and drinking coffee as Nadir spoke over assorted papers. I wasn't listening to the words. Instead, I watched Erik's expression as he looked from Nadir to Ibrahim to me. His eyes became light when he saw me, but it was the Grand Vizier whom he addressed first.

"Hello, Ibrahim," he said, completely cutting Nadir off - who was now looking at me like a I was a fly in the room. "How was Echo Hall today?"

"Corpse-less."

Erik chuckled. Nadir scoffed. I tried not to look at the Daroga.

"Angel of Death," Ibrahim said then, "your gift brought you something."

Erik looked at me, interest lining his eyes. "And what would that be?"

"A gift of her own."

The interest doubled in intensity. "Oh?"

"It was actually for Reza," I explained, as Ibrahim lifted the crown for Erik to see. Erik took a moment to register what it was, and then went to his feet with a wide, mischievous smile. He came around the table to take it from Ibrahim. "But," I continued, "he said he wanted me to give it to you. So, technically, though I made it, it's from Reza."

"Well, I love it." Erik placed the crown atop his head and made his way back to his seat, every step a bit more graceful as he went. Ibrahim followed him closely and sat as well. Both men looked entirely tickled, while Nadir's lips were pursed. "Come and sit for a few moments, Christine."

"I..." I eyed Nadir's expression. "I can come back later."

"Nonsense!" Ibrahim said. "You're here now."

I hesitated, but when Nadir didn't outright dismiss me and Ibrahim gestured for me to do as Erik said, I took a seat at the far end of the table, away from where the men sat, so as not to be a disturbance.

"Anything to drink or eat?" Erik asked.

I shook my head. "I ate earlier this morning. I'm fine."

"Can we," said the Daroga, "please get back to what we were discussing?" He moved a few papers around on the table. "So, now that the Grand Vizier is here, we can - oh Allah above."

Erik was raising his hand high in the air like a schoolchild waiting to be called on. Ibrahim was trying unsuccessfully to hide his grin.

"What could you possibly-" Nadir began.

"Yes," said Erik, "I have a question."

"What?"

He lowered his hand and adjusted the crown. "When will I receive my royal fan-wavers."

Nadir sighed and closed his eyes. "Your what?"

"My fan-wavers," he responded, saying the words as though it were the most obvious request in the world. "The servants who wave fans at me to keep me cool."

Nadir removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. "What," he asked concisely, "the ever-loving fuck are you talking about?"

"Now, now, Nadir," chided Ibrahim. "You are speaking to the King of France."

"Emperor, actually," corrected Erik. "We rid ourselves of the King quite a few years ago. Had a little bit of a spat over it and everything. Just a small quarrel. But yes, the sentiment remains. And as the Emperor, I give my first decree: chocolate cake for Christine and Ibrahim." He grinned. "Let them eat cake!"

A vein was ready to pop in Nadir's temple. "This is not time to be making jokes."

Erik looked affronted. "Daroga. I am wearing a paper crown with painted pink swirls. Do you believe I would sit here and make jokes?"

Nadir spoke under his breath. "Why are you like this?" He opened his eyes and looked at me. "Christine," he said, "I apologize for my rudeness, but would you mind very much going back up to your room for now?"

I nodded and was up from my chair, even as Erik scoffed. I left the room as Ibrahim protested, "Oh, come now!" Feeling simultaneously disappointed and relieved to be gone from their presence, I made my way back up to my room.

Erik came to my room a bit later to conduct our lesson. He sat with me on the bed, side by side, both of our feet hanging down.

But he appeared entirely somber now.

I wondered if Nadir had scolded him - but I doubted Erik would be affected by that at all. If anything, he'd find it amusing.

I smiled at him. "Reza was happy that you liked your gift," I said.

He smiled lightly in return. "It was wonderful, and I thank you both." His smile faded. "Christine."

"Yes."

"Ibrahim let it slip to the Shah that you are well."

"Oh." I had no idea what that meant for me, but the way Erik was speaking made my stomach flip.

"He informed me after our meeting this morning - it was, of course, entirely by accident. He was talking of the party that he's hosting in a week and a half, and mentioned to the Shah that I will be attending, along with you - should I wish to bring you. This clued the Shah in that you've recovered."

"What does that mean, then?"

Erik lightly rubbed the sheet music in his hands with his thumbs, looking down. "The Shah told his mother, the Khanum, who has been quite interested in you since you were gifted to me. She asks me often about you - what you're like, how you are...any piece of information she can glean. She likes the idea of a monster and a maiden together."

"You're not a monster," I said on instinct.

He paused. "I appreciate that, Christine." He paused again. "Regardless, she does think so, and I believe she has a sick sense of intrigue when it comes to the sheer amount of pain and suffering you must be experiencing at my hands. And now that she knows you've recovered, her interest has piqued to an extreme."

I waited.

"Meaning," he continued, "she has now decided that she'd like you to attend another execution...sitting right next to her while I perform."