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TW: Drug use
Enjoy!
Christine
Chapter 42
The Fool
I tried to ask Erik more of what he knew of my father, but he wouldn't say. In fact, the more I asked, the more he seemed to shut his doors to me. Not that he lost his affections, but that he spoke less and less, showing less emotion, trying to change the subject.
Eventually, he told me that he really should be getting back to work, leaving me absolutely reeling with the need to know why he was so adamant to have details of Gustave Daae.
The frustration was unreal.
But, knowing Erik, if he didn't want to reveal something, he would not be revealing it. Despite how irksome it was to be left without answers, despite how terribly it tickled at my mind, I resisted the urge to scratch. I had to tell myself that by prying into his past, I would only push him away.
Even if a part of that past involved my father. Or didn't. Or did. I didn't know. How was I supposed to know if he refused to say?
Lord, I felt antsy. How was I supposed to focus on drawing now?
Lessons. Then dinner. Then we needed to go to to the Khanum's chambers.
The entire time, I felt that small relentless buzz - the feeling one only seems to get when there's something one needs to say. To ask. To do. But one knows they will regret it if the words are emitted, the actions are proceeded with.
'Goodness, you do ask a lot of questions', Erik had told me the day I'd been given to him. I knew it was true. I also knew that, though he'd never say something like this to me now - at least not with sincerity - it was very wise to simply keep my mouth shut. But having the burning need to know was actually like a fire - turning every other potential topic to ash as we sat across from one another in his parlor.
So I ended up leaving it to him to come up with things to talk about. This, I don't think he minded. I think he knew quite well what I actually wanted to bring up. I think, in fact, he was simply grateful I was holding my tongue.
And when dinner ended, I once again put on my Flower clothes. And we made our way to the Khanum's chambers.
For this, there was a surprising and microscopic part of me that was actually relieved. Going to the Khanum was deeply unpleasant - terrifying. A wonderful distraction from my need to play Pandora around Erik's box of secrets.
I sat in my usual spot on her couch. Erik stood in the center of the room. I looked down, but I could feel her eyes on me. From the corner of my vision, I saw her turn to one of the eunuchs and say something softly. I heard his short reply and then his footsteps. He went to a corner of the room, behind me to my left, and returned. I finally did look. He gave her a small, golden, gilded box.
The Khanum smiled slightly as she opened the box - stopping momentarily to let her face contort and scream words at an empty wall across the room - and then calmly proceeded to take two blue, smooth, shiny objects from its red felt inside lining. The objects were two thin tubes, about the circumference of my thumb but three times as long, with a sort of cylindrical, open-topped piece at the end. The other side of the tube was open as well.
I glanced at Erik. His eyes had grown a bit wider, but the rest of his face and body remained neutral.
I turned back to the objects.
The Khanum handed me one of the tubes. Knowing better than to hesitate, I took it immediately. It was cool to the touch, but in the cylindrical top, I could see something light brown packed inside.
She spoke again. The translator behind us said, "Show gratitude. You, Rose, will have the distinct honor of smoking hashish with the Khanum."
I stared what I now knew was a smoking pipe. I forced my mouth to open and emit the words, "Thank you, Khanum. I am not worthy of such a gift."
I didn't need to look at Erik to feel his absolute discomfort.
Thought stampeded through my mind. I knew that this substance altered the mind - like alcohol, but differently. What if I became fool? What if I said something I wasn't supposed to?
A eunuch came around and lit the pipes. Smoke, giving an earthy smell, rose from the cylinder.
I did my best to forget every shred of affection and kindness Erik had shown me. I tried to erase from my mind what I knew of Echoes, Echo Hall, and the plot to kill the son of the powerful woman sitting right next to me. I attempted to lose memory of Erik's secret bleeding heart, the Daroga's rage for the royalty, and the Grand Vizier's illegal affair with the Prince.
And then, when the Khanum began to smoke, I put the pipe to my lips as well. I dragged in a breath.
I pulled it away from my mouth instantly and coughed, deeply, feeling suddenly quite sick. Who would do this? Breathe in smoke? For fun? Even the cigars so popular in Europe - why?
At my coughing, the Khanum laughed with mirth, throwing her head back with a light, feminine sound. Her harem girls followed suit. I looked shortly at Erik, and he was refusing to look back at me, but I saw a sort of tension in his hands and shoulders.
I didn't feel embarrassed - my concern over my own mental state was at the forefront of my mind. So far, I felt entirely normal. But perhaps that's how one feels when under the influence. I'd been drunk before - my father and I played chess (badly) while absolutely gone under the influence, giggling like maniacs, when I was sixteen - but what was this going to be like?
I took another draw, but this time I didn't cough. My lungs, it seemed, were now more concerned with not spilling secrets than remembering that there was smoke inside of them.
At last, a victim was brought into the room. I watched Erik's Angel persona unfurl. I watched the victim - a small, middle-aged and balding man - break into tears. I watched the entire room go silent.
And then it happened.
The world seemed to both focus and unfocus at the same time. Everything held a sort of faraway quality to it, and yet everything I looked at was honed in, like I was looking at it through a magnifying glass. It was the strangest sensation, and yet...it felt so nice. Everything felt so nice. So peaceful. Even the man shaking next to Erik.
Somehow, I remembered that I was supposed to be looking down. I took another draw of the pipe.
The Khanum said something. The translator repeated it in French. But for some reason, I didn't catch it. I was focused on watching Erik's feet move. The victim's feet. The man had such little feet compared to Erik. They were so small. Or maybe Erik's were just big. Big feet. Biiiiiiiiiiig feet. Giant feet. Humongous feet. Long feet. Longfeet. Feetlong.
"Feetlong," I whispered out loud. I giggled. I giggled harder. I giggled, in fact, for an entire hour. I heard the Khanum giggling, too.
My, this execution was taking such a long time. Didn't Erik say that they usually only lasted a few minutes?
The Khanum said the same words again, and this time, I heard what the translator said. "How are you enjoying the hashish, Rose?"
"Oh," I said, "I'm sorry, Khanum. You asked me that an hour ago."
At that, the Khanum laughed again, fully. This time, not only the harem girls laughed, but so did the eunuchs. I grinned. Oh, I was making everyone so happy. This was nice. I laughed, too.
And this time, I couldn't stop laughing. I was unable, in fact, to control my own diaphragm and lungs as they spasmed, sending glee into my mind. Sending glee into the minds of everyone present.
I couldn't stop laughing even as the victim fell to the ground. The way his eyes glazed, wide open, as his body crumpled was just so silly.
I closed my eyes, and then all that surrounded me was laughter. Mine. The Khanum's. The girls and eunuchs and translator. In fact, I think the only one not laughing was Erik.
I followed Erik through the halls. He seemed to stiff as he walked, and this was definitely a problem, because he was the only thing I seemed to be able to focus on. It felt like walking through a dream, with the glittering walls of the palace somewhere hazy and out of reach, but Erik crystal clear.
Paranoia sprouted in my mind at the edge his mood had taken. Had I been laughing too long? Did he now find my laughter annoying? Did he not love me anymore?
The pace of my breathing increased, and I had to stop walking. Erik stopped, too. He looked at me with anger. So, so, so angry.
"I'm sorry I laughed for an hour. It was just really funny. You didn't think it was funny? Your feet are so much bigger than his, and it was so funny."
Confusion laced his gaze. "Christine, it was fifteen minutes. Total. Not an hour."
Oh.
I giggled anew. Now that was silly. All of my previous concerns were gone. Poof! Gone! So silly!
He took my wrist and pulled me along, faster, so that the guards following us had to move faster. As I was dragged, I turned to look at one of them.
He was handsome. I wondered if he liked his job. Did he have a wife? Children? What was his life like outside of this?
I smiled at him as he walked next to me. "Hello."
He didn't turn to me. He merely kept walking.
Oh, he must not have heard me. "Hello, Monsieur. How are you?"
Again, he didn't hear me. Hm.
"Monsieur," I continued, "are you deaf, perhaps?"
Christine, stop. Erik's voice trick. He can't understand you, and he's trained not to respond to you, as you are expected to talk to no man other than me. Stop, please.
I could hear him right in my ear. But he wasn't in my ear. Picture that - a tiny Erik sitting inside my ear. I giggled harder. If I wasn't mistaken, Erik's speed increased.
At last, we came to Erik's chambers. He swiftly unlocked the door. He pulled me inside and turned the lock. But rather than look at me, he was staring at the couch, his eyes widening and mouth opening.
I turned to look as well.
On the left couch was Ibrahim's body, limp and unmoving, still as death.
