Chapter Two – Dinner Guests
His great height sprouting long limbs commands the room. To describe him, the word immaculate immediately came to Christine's mind. His still attached dark cloak looks woolen and dirt-free. The three piece suit that can just be seen between the cloaks opening looks impeccably tailored and pristine. His fedora hat is clenched between black leather gloved fingers, putting his collar length of jet black hair on display; slicked back, thick and neat, unmovable. As for his face, which is meant to shock and frighten, doesn't alarm Christine. Yes it is different, even strange, but to her she sees merely a man. A clearly intimidating and fierce one, and yet hiding a part of himself to the world.
The half that's revealed mirrors the emotion of the mask. A hard, blank, chiseled, pale canvas. If his expression wasn't so rigid she would find him almost handsome even with the mask. Like his body his face is long and narrow. He carries a strong, clean-shaven jaw as the mask partly covers a long noble nose. From what can be seen of his lips, they are full and pink, if slightly wonky. The only part that shines any life or feeling about him are his eyes. Those, in Christine's opinion, are more frightening than the stark mask or unyielding expression. Yellow is such an unusual shade for a person's eyes. The tenacity his stare carries makes them glow, the intensity strong even from them being on opposite ends of the room. They roam over her, examining every detail. The motion like a caress, causing a delicate shiver to ripple over her. Her face flushes. His eyes brighten.
"Bravo! Bravo indeed, mademoiselle!" the source of the clapping exclaimed eagerly.
Jolted from their own reverie the old couple turned towards the interruption, "Colonel, at last!" Mama rejoiced, herself and Professor Valerius excitedly rose from their seats to greet their guests, oblivious at the staring match occurring on either side of them.
Forcefully Christine tore away from the frozen Colonel and looked to his delighted companion. A dark skinned man who is a couple inches shorter than the looming Colonel, with more weight to him. His own cloak drapes over one of his arms and a dark purple turban remains on his head. His suit isn't as grand but nonetheless smart and of good quality; light grey, white shirt and a purple waistcoat matching the turban. His face is much more welcoming. Lined and weather-beaten with kind dark eyes and a bushy beard flecked in grey. The contrast of the two is immediate.
Upon the closeness of the Professor and Mama Valerius the Colonel at last removes his gaze from Christine and faces them. The shade of yellow not as bright but still glowing. Perhaps it was the lighting of the room or the distance between them but Christine could swear his features softened upon the couple.
The Professor grabbed his hand, shaking enthusiastically. The Colonel remaining poised.
"Good to see you, my boy, good to see you! Such a long time! I hope you are keeping well!"
Without giving him a chance to respond Mama promptly interject, "You're still much too thin," disapproval evident, giving the Colonels arm the Professor is still holding an examining squeeze and his figure a close inspection. "Good thing I stocked up on food." she nodded to herself.
"Tell me more about this mystery guest you have brought with you, good sir!" the Professor joyfully asked while keenly eyeing up the foreign man in the turban. At last he removes his grip on the Colonel, who swiftly brought the free limb back to his side. His posture ramrod straight.
"Pardon me sir, I am Nadir Khan." Nadir kindly introduced, smiling; his hand now held captive within the Professors. "Thank you so much for allowing me into your home at such short notice."
"No problem, no problem at all, anything for the Colonel, it's great to know he has a friend besides ourselves!"
Almost comically Nadir turned to the Colonel, grinning, "See Erik? We are friends."
The rigid Colonel made no acknowledgement to this statement. The softness that Christine once believed to be there, gone.
Erik. Such an ordinary name for an unordinary looking man. Short and curt. Christine found the name suited him.
"Christine!" Mama turned, calling eagerly while gaining attention of everyone else. "Come here dearie, so we can properly introduce you."
Trying to ignore all set of eyes instantly watching her - and not just his - she walks towards the small congregation standing by the open door of the library.
"What did you think of our little Christine, eh Colonel?" the Professor asked while giving an embarrassed Christine a one armed hug. "Doesn't she have a lovely voice? I'd say she would put that La Carlotta to shame!"
Those yellow eyes trained on her, shining ever alive and roaming over her once more. "Indeed."
A short, curt response and in that limited response Christine could feel the deep, melodic warmth within that voice. And such a voice. Never has she heard a voice as low, deep and warm. He must be a musician to carry a voice like that. Heaven knows what it would sound like in song. However, she refuses to submit to that warmth, being more taken aback by his answer than his sound. Before she could press the Colonel of the matter Mama set the introductions.
"This is our ward – and sweet songbird - Miss Christine Daae." she beamed with pride.
At such an affectionate compliment mixed with the Colonels persistently burning gaze, Christine could feel her cheeks burn. She gave a rather hasty curtsey and a shy smile. The two men bowed and like his name and response Colonel Erik's bow was short and curt. Somehow this motion didn't suit him.
"Miss Daae, such a delight to hear you sing!" Nadir praised. "What a voice! Amazing! Perhaps Erik, it was a good thing us being late-!"
"Which was caused by your doing." the Colonel harshly abolished through a clenched jaw, "We were late due to your incompetence, Khan." sending a scathing glare to his companion. For Christine such a voice should not sound in such a way. It's the first emotion she hears and sees in the man.
Clearly he is someone who values his time and where and whom he spends it. From his ever straight posture he is one for formalities even if his temper lacks discretion or patience. She does not think he has a relaxing bone in his much lean body unlike his friend who seems the complete opposite. The Colonel will be fun company this evening.
"Ok, my lateness," Nadir concedes, sending his own half-hearted glare at the Colonel without any fear. "My business in the city took longer than expected," he said to the Professor, Mama and Christine. "The very diva that was mentioned causing such a ruckus, something about the background not appearing real enough - anyway, I greatly apologies for keeping each of you waiting," looking back to the Colonel, Nadir added rather shrewdly, "but I don't know why you're making such a big deal Erik, the moment the front door opened and we heard the singing, you practically ra-"
"So Professor," the Colonel cuttingly interjected, his form, if at all possible, appearing even more rigid and large, "how have you been keeping yourself busy during retirement?"
Christine frowned. Practically what? Raged? Rambled? Did her singing cause him such distress? If he didn't like her singing the most polite thing for him to do is say nothing about it. Or at least be a gentleman and lie. Say she was at least decent. Not that his opinion should matter. Never mind he owns the Opera house and possibly hold a musical background, she has no interest in the building and the happenings inside it.
"Before we get into all that why don't we continue this over dinner, Colonel," said Mama, placing herself in-between the guests, swiftly linking their arms within her own. "I don't want you wasting away any more than you already have."
With an incline of his head towards Mama, the Colonel dutifully replied, "Of course, Madame V."
Christine again could swear that softness has returned, could now even hear it in that voice by his name for Mama. At least he makes an effort with them.
"And you, sir," Mama turned to Nadir with a tug on their linked arms. "I hope you like lamb and duck. Any left overs you two are bringing back to the estate and I expect you Monsieur Khan to ensure the Colonel eats it."
"I will try, Madame." Nadir agreed, smiling, clearly amused at the notion.
As they make to leave the room, Mama being in the middle somehow able to lead the men, the Colonel's eyes again find Christine. He looks as if he is about to say something, to what Christine has no idea. Possibly to comment on her singing. Hopefully by her association with the Valerius he will also make an effort with her and be polite. She acknowledges as he looks at her his subtle softness remains. Maybe he didn't mind her singing after all.
The humored voice of the Professor halted any dialogue the Colonel might've made. "I would feel more threatened at the fact my wife would rather be taken to dinner with two men - one of them being a complete stranger, I may add - if I hadn't had you to walk with me, my dear."
Thankful to have a reason to end another intense staring match, Christine turned to the Professor and couldn't help smile back while linking their arms. "At least when it comes to dinner I know I can always rely on your time-keeping, sir."
The Professor chuckled leading them towards the exit. Being the first to leave the room Christine remained smiling long after the disconnection from those burning glow yellow eyes.
*****************************************************************
True to Mama's word there is much food on the table. In all her two years in the Chateau, Christine has not witnessed such a feast, and she has spent two Christmas dinners here. Not only is there lamb and duck, but also roast ham, beef, boiled, roast and mash potatoes, all kinds of other vegetables, Yorkshire puddings, beetroot, and potato gratin with extra cheese. Professor Valerius took the seat at the head of the table and indicated for the Colonel to sit on the right and for Christine to sit by the Professors left. Mama sat beside the Colonel's right and Mr. Khan sat by Christine's left. Hungry, Christine eagerly delved into the food, she wasn't the only one. All except the Colonel, whose cloak has now been removed showing an all black suit (shirt and tie included), place hearty helpings onto their plates. He merely had shreds of duck, some mash potato and few vegetables. Mama wasn't amused.
"Now really Colonel, you must be hungry!" she chastised, slapping down a sizeable chunk of potato gratin onto his plate.
"Really Madame, I am very much content with what I have selected, thank you." he politely insisted.
Mama pursed her lips but said no more, seemingly knowing not to push the matter.
"Erik may be one without much of an appetite but I certainly am!" said Nadir, chewing happily away on his beef. "Madame Valerius this is delicious!"
During dinner the Professor and Madame keenly questioned the Colonel on his time away. They were once great travelers themselves but never made the journey to America and when they were away they never spent years in a different country. How can one simply pick up and leave to a strange new land? By this Christine couldn't help but admire the Colonel. To go somewhere new and start over…yet he returned.
"A different world over there, I imagine." the Professor remarked in-between mouthfuls of mash potato. "Are they much of a cultured sort?"
"Their style may not be as grand as it is here but from what I have seen in the fashion papers they seem to make do." Mama added knowingly.
Christine, quite interested to hear the Colonels tales of America, discreetly listened while eating. To her disappointment he didn't have much to say. Like earlier this evening his responses were short and curt, even evasive. He sounded more engaged about the Professors new hobby of map collecting. She did however find it hard to look away from him, specifically his hands. A set of long, spindly fingers curled around his fork, a blood red stone ring encases his pinky finger. There is a grace to them, they seem so delicate yet impressive at the same time. A musicians hands. The skin near the same shade as his mask.
She is only too keen when Nadir initiated conversation between themselves.
"I am glad to know I am not the only foreigner sitting at the table." he says with his usual friendliness. "What language was that, Miss Daae?"
Christine smiled over at Nadir. "Swedish, sir. I must inform you I am only half foreign on my father's side, not as cosmopolitan as yourself."
Nadir grinned even more, "You're lucky with your fair complexion you can easily blend in, I stand out like a sore thumb. I suppose the turban doesn't help."
After a small laugh Christine asks, "And where is it you are from, sir?"
"Iran, Persia precisely."
Her interest now peaks. "Much more exotic than Sweden. I am sure it was a culture shock when you first came to France."
"In a way," Nadir agreed thoughtfully, smiling at her interest, "mainly the weather. Took a few years to get used to the cold, and it won't get any hotter in the Summer. The foods agreeable though, especially this." Nadir munched happily away to some roasties.
"I'll let Helena know, she'll be most pleased her efforts were much appreciated."
Nadir set his fork down on his plate causing a small clatter, his expression formed into one of comic horror. "Are you telling me the Madame did not slave away all day in the kitchen to make this hearty meal for her punctual guests?! Even for the one who barely eats?!" he asked in mocked annoyance.
Christine giggled again. From the corner of her eye she thought there was movement across the table but she was too caught up in amusement to take much heed nor did she catch Nadir's quick glance across the table. He picked up his fork to return to his meal, a knowing grin gracing his lips.
"I imagine the weather in Sweden isn't much different than in France." he commented.
"From what I can remember it was cold a lot of the time, unfortunately I don't remember much. My father took us to France when I was quite young. As you can tell he instilled the language in me anyway, along with telling me all the folk tales and songs..." she said, her smile like her tone now holding a trace of sadness.
With some sadness coming into his own smile Nadir acknowledged, "I am sorry for your loss, Miss Daae."
Blinking away the sudden unwanted blur in her eyes, "Am I really that obvious?" she said in forced humor, her fork now hanging limp on her hand.
"Don't be ashamed, Miss Daae. Grief is something that rarely gets used too. Accustomed yes, but rarely accepted." said Nadir knowingly, his usual bounce dimmed. "Well, that's how I find it anyway."
Timidly Christine enquired, "If you don't mind me asking, who have you have lost, sir?"
"My wife and son." he replied in a way that has been said so often there's a heavy weight to the words.
Eyes wide, Christine earnestly assured, "I am so sorry, sir. Those are great losses to bear."
Nadir shook his head and gave her arm a gentle pat, "Been many years now, Miss Daae," he said lightly. "We've been longer apart than together. Still…" ending on a little shrug, Nadir again returned to his meal though not as enthusiastically as before.
Hoping to lighten his mood once more, Christine asked, "What is Persia like? Is it very hot?"
"Would be stifling for you, my dear. I don't think your fair skin could take it." Nadir replied with a small smile, thankful at the change of topic.
"You're right, I would shrivel. I even burn if I stay out in the afternoon sun too long, oh but I do so love to be outside."
"Ha! A shame indeed. You would think my dear friend over there would be the same," Nadir indicated at the unknowing Colonel who appears engrossed at whatever the Professor is saying. From the angle of his face the mask is on full view. Christine quickly returned to Nadir. "He is so pale yet, amazingly, easily tans. At least he did in Persia and that was many years ago."
Christine's eyebrows rose in curiosity, "Is that where you met him?"
"I did." came Nadir's quick reply. "Many, many years ago. Probably long before you were even thought about, Miss Daae!"
For the first time this evening Christine wondered the age of the Colonel. When she first learned about him she assumed he must've been near the Professors age, maybe even in his fifties, but eyeing him discreetly before her, even with the mask on full display, on closer inspection she deciphered he must be younger. Not much younger but definitely not as old. Nadir is definitely the older one of the two.
"Anyway, that voice of yours Miss Daae, why aren't you in my opera house displaying that talent to all of Paris?"
Christine opened her mouth to make a throw-away remark but is - rather rudely - interrupted.
"Your opera house?" the brusque voice of the Colonel barked. The abruptness sent a unanimous jolt and stark silence around the table. His whole face now in full view is incredulous. Even his mask looks irked.
"Since when has it become your opera house?"
Unfazed Nadir replied, "Since I maintain the staff, public relations and finance, unlike yourself who merely hides away to compose pieces that are rarely made public."
"I do more than just that." The Colonel responded tersely, his stature growing larger by the second.
"Like when you pop out on sporadic moments when, within an orchestra pit of at least 40 members, you hear a single violinist stroke the bow "too harshly"? Or when you hear a French horns vales sound "too sticky"? How you can hear such things is beyond me, even when you're not even in the same room…"
Christine couldn't help internally wince at the comment regarding the violin. Her Papa would never have had that problem, his violin was always perfectly tuned and he played so reverently. He loved that instrument. Took such good care of it. Played it with so much care and respect.
"I designed that building, I helped built it and I nowown it." the Colonel stated, his tone bordering on possessive.
A jolt of anger shot through Christine by his statement. It is looking quite likely the Colonel could've been part of the reason why her Papa never got a spot at the orchestra and all due to this Colonel's 'perceptive' hearing. God knows what he truly thinks of her singing. However, it wouldn't be good etiquette to bring up the matter. Not when Mama and the Professor obviously care about him. Plus she likes Nadir and wouldn't want him to think badly of her. So, ever polite, Christine bit her tongue and silently fumed.
After taking a sip of his wine Nadir amusingly countered, "You have to admit, without me the place wouldn't run the way it is now."
"Correct. It would run better."
Mama sighed wistfully, outwardly oblivious to the Colonels growing temper, "We haven't been to a show in so long Louis, we must go sometime. Colonel, what have you planned for this season?"
" 'La Scala di seta' " he stiffly replied, the answer clearly not to his liking. "Not my first choice, however, the harpy we have is quite limited at her abilities and I don't want her even glancing at anything I wrote never mind attempt to sing it."
"Glad to know your still composing." said Professor Valerius, tucking into some beetroot. He seems to be the only one still tucking into his meal. "Nice to have a hobby."
Clearly insulted by the Professors last comment, the Colonels jaw clenched and lips thinned. Nadir just managed to mask his chortle into a cough.
Wanting to save the Professor from the Colonel's possible scathing tongue as well as to move the topic away from the Opera house, Christine asked the Colonel as friendly and keenly as possible as her resentment towards him would allow, "Do you compose operas, sir?"
The second her voice sounded his eyes clasped on her. Those yellow pupils scrutinizing, absorbing, roaming. Again the effect sending a shiver through her.
"I do." he replied, short and curt once more.
Refraining from rolling her eyes she pressed on, "What kind of operas?"
With that intense gaze he watches her, deciding whether or not to answer her query. Accepting the silent challenge Christine stares back more annoyed than intimidated. All she asked was a simple question, she should get some credit for making an effort.
At last making a decision he responds, "Ones that are not meant to reach delicate dispositions."
The answer so cryptic Christine can only form more questions.
"Not violent I hope!" Mama objects, adding disapprovingly, "There are far too many of those."
"Mine are a range of themes taking on the darker side of life." the Colonel clarifies still looking to Christine who is now more curious than confused.
"Why not compose a comedy?" Mama enthusiastically suggested, "They would bring in more of an audience and they are much more entertaining!"
The Colonel almost recoiled at the notion.
"Erik doesn't have much of a sense of humor." Nadir happily regarded.
"Music is not only about entertainment." the Colonel declared looking swiftly to Mama. "Music is meant to move you, change your perspective, even to provide aide." Returning his focus to Christine, near incessant he added, "Music touches your soul like no other being, changes your life."
Reluctantly Christine agrees to his every point. Music is more than just entertainment value, to her it is a necessity. Without music life would be dull. Silent. The world would lack colour and meaning. For her it would be difficult to express certain emotions without the help of music. Comedy included.
"I agree, sir, however, I do believe your soul can also be touched from a musical comedy."
The Colonel arched an eyebrow. Christine, not allowing herself to be intimated continued,
"Yes it isn't to everyone's liking but one can be moved by the humor, by the use of language, to even enjoy the silliness with the tune or actions of the performers."
After a pause the Colonel enquired, "And during your pastimes do you sing comedic melodies, Miss Daae?"
By his near patronizing tone he already knew the answer.
This tone rubbed Christine the wrong way.
"No but I enjoy some of them."
He promptly and again near patronizingly asked, "And why do you not sing them?"
Frowning Christine replied, "Because I enjoy singing songs that mean something to me."
The yellows eyes are brighter than she has ever seen them this evening. "Oh, so you don't think comedic songs have meaning?"
Not that she was brave enough nor could reach but at this moment Christine very much wants to kick him in the shins. Very hard. "Of course I do but not to me."
"Then why defend it?"
A fair point and in all honesty Christine doesn't herself understand why she is defending musical comedy, her not being a fan of the genre. Maybe it was the way his tone rubbed her the wrong way or her stubborn nature won't let it go over her head. Or just maybe it's the possibility that this man could be partly the reason why she is here living in the Chateau in the first place. That her father is no longer here.
He comes across as the kind of man that can easily get what he wants, hear what he wants to hear. Especially carrying a voice such as his. She has no doubt the power that voice holds when charming or persuading.
He won't get that with her.
"Mama's right, there should be more comedic songs out there, if not for entertainment value then for the benefit of being lost for a moment when they can make us forget parts of our own unhappy, boring lives."
This passionate retort silenced him.
Those eyes continuing their intensive, inquisitive stare.
"She's got you there, my friend." said Nadir, enjoying every moment of this conversation.
"A spitfire, this one." The Professor commented proudly, his dinner now, along with everyone else, at last forgotten.
Hearing others in the room couldn't remove her attention. Especially now she can plainly see the softness emerging on the Colonels features.
With a slight tilt to his head, he asked pensively, softly, "Besides Swedish folksongs, what other songs mean something to you, Miss Daae?"
God, the softness of that voice!The caress, the warmth - what torment! He sounds like he even cares what she thinks! He looks so interested in her! The way he is right at this moment, if Christine allowed herself too, she could very easily become attracted to him. The mask be damned, even his arrogance. If he continues to look at her as if she is the only person in the world or to speak to her in a softness that heated her stomach, she would be lost.
Fortunately she has the sense to maintain her faculties. Unknowingly for him he is now treading onto dangerous territory. She is very private when it comes to the kind of music she likes. Each song she sings or loves has a personal meaning for her. And to reveal such privacy to a person she barely knows; one that is not only rude but works in a building that brought nothing but heartache, she will not give him that knowledge.
Another issue came to light. He knows she is Swedish. It's more than likely he was paying closer attention to her conversation with Nadir than he was letting on. Granted he could've easily figured it out by the language of her song or even by her surname. But Christine does not want to give him the credit.
Intending to bring this conversation to a close, Christine asserts, "You're the composer, my opinion is of little matter compared to your own."
"Yet your opinion has more of a finality to it than my own."
Patience waning, Christine couldn't help critically counter, "Being a musician and owner of a well-respected theatre should you not have thicker skin than to care what I think?"
"As you clearly have a talent I simply wish to know what other songs spark your interest."
"Many, that's all you need to know."
"Christine!" Mama chastised, her eyes positively bulging by her wards forwardness, "The Colonel is only asking a simple question!"
In stark realization to Mama's words embarrassment floods her. Papa too would disapprove her behavior. He wouldn't allow what occurred with his auditions to hinder his manners. To his credit the Colonel does not appear insulted or upset. The softness remains mixed with interest. He is riveted by this conversation. Maybe even amused but not in a condescending way. He is intent on her. Keen to know more, to hear every word, even…concerned?
Why would he be concerned? Does he pity her? Pity the Professor and Mama being unexpectedly lumbered with her? The poor Swedish orphan. She does not want his pity.
"Truly, Miss Daae," came the calmingly amused voice of Nadir, "it is an honor Erik even asked for your opinion. He rarely asks for mine."
"That's because you have bad judgement." The Colonel swiftly stated.
Raising his eyebrows as if in realization, Nadir, through a puff of air, acquiesced, "I suppose so. I am friends with you." Turning to Christine, he idly enquired, "What say you, Miss Daae? Is my judgement wrong to decipher your sweet nature?"
There is a twinkle to his dark brown eyes. He is wanting to elevate the conversation, possibly sensing her inner distress. He too is not put off by her conduct, in fact he is entertained by it. Perhaps it's a rarity for the Colonel to argue with someone other than himself. And for a young woman to do so must be very amusing to witness.
"Of course not, Monsieur," Mama good naturedly dismissed, "Christine is the sweetest girl."
Smiling, Christine declared in the most serious tone she could muster, "On the contrary Mama, I am the most dangerous person in the room."
"Oh really, Christine!" Mama abolished while the Professor and Nadir chuckled.
The softened expression which remained on the Colonel is greeted with a smile. A small one yet it does wonders to erase all memory of his normally stoic appearance.
"I do not doubt it, Miss Daae."
That gentleness and warmth again, lingered with something else. Something she can't decipher.
Yet air left her. Heat tingled her lower abdomen.
And those eyes. They too held a certain something within their depths.
"You should see her with a sewing needle," the Professor chimed in, "Positively lethal!"
Christine couldn't resist her original sardonic smile to easily mold into one more genuine by the Professors words.
"Christine dear, you have such dark humor for one so young." Mama gently chastised.
"Better than having none like myself." The Colonel stated with heavy irony.
Spoken in such a sardonic drawl Christine couldn't help but laugh. Heartily. Tension instantly eased and whatever awakened, the warmth in her abdomen, evaporated. How can a person she has just met cause so many emotions in one evening? Is it like this with anyone who meets him? Or is she just easily influenced?
Colonel Erik Desslar is intimidating, awkward, rude, commanding, inquisitive, and quite possibly caused unneeded distress to herself and her Papa. And she has also seen another side to him, be it glimpses of it. Plainly he cares for the Valerius and throughout his questioning on her, he wasn't harsh. Persistent, nosey, but still a gentleman.
As long as he makes an effort for her guardians, Christine cannot say otherwise. Fortunately from now on she will rarely see him. Dinners like this won't be a regular occurrence; he prefers to be alone and she doubts Helena would be so obliging. The Colonel works in the city of Paris undoubtedly throughout most of the week. And she can reduce the chances even more by no longer walking the grounds at Leroux estate.
Her heart aches at the idea. Her smile lessens. She loves those grounds.
The Colonel seems to have noticed the change. His smile gone, he furrowed his brow and made to speak but yet again this evening he was interrupted by the Professor's cheerful voice. He quipped,
"My dear, before you tend to your 'skills', may you ask Helena for dessert to be brought out?"
Grateful to have the opportunity to gather her senses, and to have a moment away from him, Christine heartily agreed.
With a last shared look across the table air left her once more. So much emotion recedes through that yellow gaze. Emotions she does not understand and some she does. And she doesn't know what to feel by this. But for now, she will fulfil her guardians' request, and after this evening will put her first meeting with the reclusive half masked Colonel down to one for the history books. For any future meetings with him cannot be as strange and intense as this. Can it?
