Chapter 31: A Concealed Confession
Erik winced as the needle pierced his skin. He had stitched many wounds himself, the sting of the thread as it was tugged through his flesh all too familiar. Yet, when he was in control, he could modify the stitching to make the pain more bearable. Now he was at the whim of a pathetic deputy, doing his best to conserve his energy instead of lashing at his every mistake. He straddled a chair, his chest leaning against the back support. One of his hands gripped the old wood tightly while the other clutched a half-empty bottle of wine. It was the only anesthetic Nadir would let him use.
"I'm sorry." Darius muttered, noticing Erik's wince as he pulled the thread tightly. "These lashings are quite deep. This new whip of his must have uneven rope. It's difficult finding patches of skin."
"Quit your excuses and just hurry up." Erik growled, taking another swill of the wine. He didn't care about the pain. He was nearly silent as the Shah delivered his first punishment; 20 fierce lashings across his back for stepping out of turn. Erik had endured them before. At first, the pain was nearly unbearable. Now, he was entirely numb to it.
"You shouldn't have done that." Nadir shook his head, sitting in a similar chair across the table. "You know that he will continue to punish you until you break. Why didn't you at least scream once?"
"I refuse to satisfy his revolting pleasures any longer."
"Then he will seek to fulfil that need elsewhere." He loosely chopped his hand through the air with each word as if to pound them into Erik's skull. "You know he plans to visit the harem tonight. What will stop him from taking her?"
Erik looked away. Though he hated to admit it, that thought had been eating away at his consciousness. It took everything he had not to whisk her away into the night before dropping her off at that hell hole. The eunuchs were fierce warriors, ones he could defeat alone. But with Christine as collateral, it wasn't something he was willing to risk.
"I'll take her."
Nadir scoffed. "Fazia will have been informed to keep her there."
"She is terrified of me. All I have to do is scare her."
"She stands her ground against horny kings and war admirals. She may be scared of you, but I doubt she will cave." Darius disagreed.
"She will have no choice." Erik's voice rose. He refused to accept any doubts of her escape. Just hearing them was enough to anger him.
Nadir refused to yield. "And what will that do? Anger the Shah more? When will you stop acting impulsively!" Nadir slammed his fist onto the table. "The Europeans and the Prince arrive tomorrow evening. We need to keep a somewhat low profile until then."
Erik released a sharp intake of breath as Darius dug the needle deep into his skin. He growled in frustration. "I thought you said you had done this before!"
"I have but there is so much scar tissue back here! I have little to work with."
Erik buried his head in his hands, the cool mask refreshing in his palms. "My involvement in the coup will not be discovered over my...infatuation with mademoiselle Daae. Once my wounds are sealed I will use the underground tunnels to drag her out of there."
"Fazia will watch her like a hawk. If she finds out about those tunnels we are doomed."
"I'll send Darius in to retrieve her then. She will have no orders to keep him away from her."
"Absolutely not. She has sent me away a hundred times before. This will be no different."
"You will have to convince her on your own." Nadir stated pointedly towards Erik. "Let's think this through rationally. What is she motivated by? What are her weaknesses? Money? Jewels?"
"She has none. That woman is indomitable." Darius sighed dramatically.
Erik gulped, though his normal growl persisted. "She is terrified of my face...as is any woman."
"Perfect. Then take off your mask and whisk her away." Darius chirped.
"Then Christine will see my face, you fool!" Erik snapped. "That will never happen."
"And Fazia will alert the Shah that you stole her." Nadir chided, as if Erik was missing the main point of their defense. "She needs to give you her permission. Then we can use that against her to keep her quiet."
Erik leapt to his feet. "This is ridiculous. She will never allow me access into that god-forsaken room!" He paced across the room, ignoring Darius's defeated sigh.
"Maybe if you would think before you act none of this would have happened!"
"Don't tell me that you, oh pious pitier, wanted them to die."
Nadir rolled his head back. "If it meant ensuring her safety, maybe I would have."
Erik pointed at him, his lips forming into a snarl. "You would have sat there and let her heart shatter even when you saw the despair and horror in her eyes? Don't lie to me, daroga! You would have done the same!"
"What will my hypothetical decision do to change this situation? In case you forgot, it is just as dark outside your quarters as it is inside."
"Which is exactly why I must risk using the tunnels. Let's say the Shah finds out about them. It won't be able to stop the Prince's armies from knocking down his door."
"It will make it significantly more difficult!"
Erik lunged towards Nadir. Nadir leapt from his chair, barely dodging Erik's fist.
Darius leapt in between them, quickly catching Erik's bottle before it crashed against the floor. He carefully put it on the floor, away from the table where Erik and Nadir were wrestling.
"You old bastard!"
"Set aside your selfishness and think rationally for once!" Nadir grunted.
Darius pulled his mentor off Erik, his arms outstretched to separate the two panting men. "Stop! I have an idea. Just listen to me!"
Both Nadir and Erik stared at him, confusion plaguing their faces. They waited impatiently as Darius exhaled with relief. "Angel, how are your acting skills?"
"My acting?"
Darius nodded. "What if you threatened to take off your mask? Then she would let you and Christine leave to save her from the horror-not that your face is horrific! I never-"
"Silence, Darius. Your ramblings will not save you. If he is of sound mind and threatens to take off his mask she will know his game."
"What if he isn't of sound mind?" Darius grabbed the bottle of wine, holding it high in one hand. "If you are intoxicated then your actions will be just deemed foolish, not strategic. I once heard that the Baron of Vienna bypassed Fazia by threatening to make love inside the harem if he could not take a woman with him. He was so drunk that Fazia believed him and sent him on his way. What if you do the same and say you will take off your mask? It's a two for one. There is no way she will allow that!"
"And if she calls my bluff?" Erik snarled.
Darius smiled, shrugging suggestively. "Then you win in another aspect."
Erik grabbed Darius by the throat, throwing him onto the table. The bottle of wine shattered against the stone floor. "I would never dishonour her! I would never drop to such a low life like you!"
Nadir peeled Erik's fingers off his student's throat. "Erik, stop! As much as I agree, I think that Darius's plan is our best option."
"How could you-"
"It is already nightfall! We do not have enough time."
Erik was silenced, his hands shaking. "I can't."
"You must." Nadir grabbed a new bottle of wine, ripping the cork out with his teeth. "And you must make it convincing. Drink this, quickly."
Nadir tossed the bottle to Erik, who barely caught it. He stared at the liquid, a lump forming in his throat. This was his worst nightmare. Touching her sent raging fires through his skin. It burned and ached and he enjoyed every second of it. To willingly seek out her soft lips, the gentle warmth of her skin would be perilous. He was a devilish monster that would stain her angelic perfectness with his presence.
"She will detest me, as she should. I cannot go through with this."
"Then give me a feasible alternative. The Shah could go up there any minute now. Drink that down, find your inner Darius and be the most revolting heathen you can be for just a few moments. Once you bring her here and explain everything, she will understand."
Erik shook his heads, his fingers trembling. "I can't."
Nadir sighed. "Then he will take her."
Erik searched Nadir's eyes, the raging fires once present completely diminished. Every alarm in his head, every voice that haunted him, warned him that this would be his downfall. He would stain the only beautiful creature in his world. But would he ever forgive himself if he didn't try? Erik cursed under his breath before gulping down the entire bottle of wine. It has been so long since he last drank, but he forced his queasy stomach to accept the sweet taste. He prayed that she would understand.
Nadir nodded. "Once you bring her here, I will confront Fazia. I will encourage her to remain silent. The only way the Shah will know is if he completely denies Fazia herself in search for Christine. Even then, the blame will fall on her and the tunnels will remain a secret."
Erik barely listened to Nadir's plans, wincing as he stretched his arms into his shirt-sleeves. "Damn me to hell."
"Good luck." Nadir chuckled mirthlessly. Erik said nothing as he replaced his mask. His grip on the door handle was weak, but he forced himself out of the office. This would kill him, but at least it would save her.
-Christine POV:-
"Get your hands off me." Christine hissed.
His devilish grin sent her into a frenzy and panic at the same time. Even though she was terrified of his desire, she would be lying if she said she wasn't reactive to his advances. It was a sensation she had never felt before; a warm tingling that made her stomach flutter. She feared it and welcomed it with open arms.
He leaned in closer, Christine flinching as his breath tickled her ear. "I am afraid I cannot do that."
Her exhale was ragged, her hands attempting futilely to push him away from her. Thin whispers of hair barely peaked out from the top of his unbuttoned shirt. She gasped at the feel of them under her palms. For just a moment, something flashed over his eyes before he pulled away from her. Christine tried to flee, just to escape the intensity of his presence. Her head whiplashed as he reached for her wrist, pulling her back towards him. As he dragged her through the halls, she did all she could to fight down the nausea that crept over her. This was wrong. If he cared about her, like she believed, then he wouldn't do this.
Her heart rate soared as she remembered Madame Giry's conversation with her and Meg when they were children. She had informed them on the dangers of men and what they would try to do with young women. Christine had been both embarrassed and terrified throughout the conversation. She had heard of their wandering hands and seen their advances on other ballerinas and singers, but she had never been through anything like it. For a while, she had naively believed that if she followed her morals, then she would never have to deal with men's unwanted attention. Yet now, she had just been under a drunk man who had kissed her so forcefully her lips still ached. The entire situation shook her to the core.
"Please stop. Erik, don't. I don't want this!" The franticness of her tone quickened, her sobs growing louder in the halls. He was her friend. He couldn't do this to her! She barely noticed the stunning palace doors as he yanked her through an archway, slamming the door shut behind them. The tears in her eyes clouded her vision. Regardless, she stumbled forward blindly, pulling her hand free from his in the process. The bittersweet escape of his touch encouraged her to flee to the opposite wall. Her hands quickly rose to defend herself from his advances, but instead of meeting his lustful eyes, she saw the red patches on the back of his white shirt. They were small, like thin lines of red paint dripping down his spine. Her breath still hitched at the sight.
He firmly pressed his hands against the door, holding it shut. She watched as his laboured breathing shook his upper torso. They were silent, neither of them moving from their positions. Christine waited for him to turn to her, but he remained glued to the door.
"Erik?" Christine finally whispered noce her heart had stilled. She couldn't take the confusion, the uncertainty and fear that constantly gripped her. The one source of stability nearly forced himself upon her only moments ago, though she knew something wasn't right about his actions. But now there was blood, the atmosphere of frantic lust changing to a still ambiguity. Hesitantly, Christine backed away from him, her deep, ragged breaths the only noise between them.
"Wh-What happened?" She whimpered. At first he did not respond. When he finally turned to look at her, the madness in his eyes was completely gone.
"I am so sorry." He whispered. "We are being watched. I had to make it convincing."
Her eyes widened. It was as if the cloud of doubt suddenly cleared away. Before her was the man she knew. That self loathing but brave warrior she had relied on finally returned. This was all an act. Her body shook with her sigh of relief. She keeled over, catching herself on her knees. When she finally stood again, her hand covered her heart.
"I thought you would...that you were going to..."
"I would never." He snarled. "I would never force you to touch my devilish form."
Christine's eyes widened. The intoxicated slur of his tone had dissipated, being replaced with something more genuine.
"Did I do that?" She asked, pointing towards his back. She fidgeted as she remembered her fists pounding on his back as he carried her out of the harem.
Erik didn't respond immediately. She nearly asked again before he stood straight, his fingers raking through his hair. "Could you endeavour to stand my repulsiveness for just a moment longer? We are not safe here."
Christine shuddered. His eyes refused to meet hers as he held out his hand. For a moment, fear gripped her heart. Where would he lead her? What did he plan to do with her when they were alone? She clasped her hands together, but they loosened when she studied him. His stood hunched, his head turned form hers. This was not the posture of a man who planned to defile her. If he had wanted to take her in that harem, he easily could have. There was nothing she could do to overpower him, and the very thought chilled her to the bone. Yet she reminded herself that it was an act, none of it true. He had so many opportunities to hurt her and instead prevailed to be her defender every time. She took a deep breath before placing her wrist in his hand.
She would be lying if she ever refuted his trust.
He shuddered. "I think it would be best if you continued to resist. I swear I won't..." His voice trailed. Christine watched the uncertain shifting of his downcast eyes. His other hand formed into a tight, shaking fist. It almost looked as if his soul had left his body, leaving it behind like a frozen carcass.
Christine held out her wrist. "It's okay." She whispered.
"No." He snapped, stepping away from her. His hand recoiled as if her skin had turned into boiling water. "This is not okay."
"I understand why you are doing this. It is to save me from the Shah, isn't it? He did that to you, didn't he?"
Erik said nothing. She stepped closer to him.
"Stay away from me. I'll hurt you."
"You can't leave me on this staircase. Otherwise you will be the worst rescuer I've ever heard of." Her light attempt at humour seemed to soften the tension, his eyes flickering up to her for just a moment.
But it was just for a moment. He grabbed her hand, his voice husky and low. "I think my previous actions have already given me that label."
He drew her closer, Christine stumbling to a halt mere inches in front of him. Their panting chests barely brushed against each other as she lifted her chin. This time, Christine didn't feel afraid. She saw internal struggle in his eyes. His fingers hesitantly loosened around her wrist before regaining his grip. "Scream, hit me, do what you must. I will not be so brutish. But to conform to my demands will raise suspicion."
Christine nodded. She had to fight down the burning desire to cup his cheek in her palm. Why did she feel the urge to comfort him?
He kicked open the door, Christine swallowing a squeak of fear. He glanced back at her and she remembered they were back in the public eye.
"No. No!" She screamed and pulled against him. His grip remained on her wrist, dragging her forward with ease as she pulled back against him. He didn't touch her anywhere else, letting go of her instantly as they entered a small room. It was dark save for one lone candle sitting on a single table.
"Christine!" Nadir gasped. Christine was relieved to see him. He wore a darker uniform, his raised hands showing off the gleam of his golden cufflinks. "Please, do not scream. I know what this looks like, but I promise that-"
"She knows." Erik growled. Christine barely caught sight of him as he stormed off behind her, opening the door to a side room on their right. Christine winced as he slammed the door shut. For a moment, Christine stood in silence, her eyes waiting for Erik to return. But the door remained shut.
"Did Fazia take the bait?" Darius asked.
Christine glanced back towards Nadir. Darius sat on a small sofa behind the table, barely visible in the candlelight. He leaned back, lax in the cushions with one leg crossed.
"I believe so." Christine responded. Her arms wrapped around her midsection, trying to hide her bare flesh.
Nadir seemed to notice her discomfort. "Darius and I will be leaving. We must talk with Fazia, to ensure that she remains silent. She was instructed to keep you in the harem by the Shah himself. If he was to find out that she failed him, she would be punished. However, I am certain we can ensure her silence."
Christine fidgeted uncomfortably. "He is coming to the harem tonight. Won't he notice my absence?"
Nadir shrugged, his hands crossing behind his back. "I doubt it. He is quite close with Fazia. If she hides your friends in the lower floor, I am certain she could convince him to leave without seeing any of you."
Christine sighed with relief. If this was the case, that meant that her friends would be safe as well for the night. "Thank you." She mumbled genuinely.
Nadir nodded. "I am afraid you must remain here. However, if you wish, Darius can remain here for the night for your protection."
Christine glanced over at the deputy, who flashed her a smile. Although she appreciated Nadir's concern, Darius's presence would not calm her nerves. She rolled her eyes at him, glaring at Nadir. "I don't think that will be necessary."
Christine noticed the slight grin that briefly flashed on Nadir's lips. "Of course. I am certain you will be safe here. There are some blankets and a chaise lounge in the back where you may sleep." Nadir hesitated before continuing. "Leave him. I assure you that you have done nothing wrong and that he will not be in the mood for conversation. It would be wise to let him rest alone."
Christine blushed, nodding her head uncomfortably. Nadir had caught her. More than anything she wanted to waltz into that back room and berate him on his behaviour. He could have been a little less aggressive, or given her some hint of his plan. Instead he slobbered over her like a dog and she wanted to vent out her anger. Yet, at the same time, she wanted to just be in his presence. The look of despair in his eyes, the genuine remorse in his tone. She didn't think he was a monster, and she would rather die than let him believe he was one. However, she nodded towards Nadir. If he was Erik's friend, then she would be wise to heed his advice.
Christine stood in silence as Nadir and Darius left. The locking of the door behind them echoed throughout the room. Hesitantly, she picked up the candle.
The room around her was small, bare, but functioning in some aspects. There was a small chaise in the back, its black leather gleaming in the candlelight. A small desk sat next to it, a scattering of papers resting on top. The wooden table had clearly seen better days, its surface scratched and ragged. To the left was an empty water jug and a half eaten baguette. Her nose crinkled at the sight of mold forming on its edges.
Pitiful creature of darkness. She thought. What kind of life have you known?
Christine sat on the chaise, her arms wrapping around her knees. She curled against the slight back support, her eyes focused on the soft leather. For a while, she tried to close her eyes and drift into sleep. Her body ached from her long day, but her mind was racing. Where was he? She couldn't hear him, but she knew he was on the other side of that door. She fidgeted in her seat, sighing at her futile attempts to sleep. He plagued her mind. How could he go from forcing himself upon her to ignoring her entirely? Why did she still feel the nip of his lips on her collarbone?
Her mind wandered back to the feel of his body over the top of hers, the sweet heat that enveloped her every sense. Slowly her body leaned into the sofa as she remembered the feeling of his jarring hip bones as they rubbed against hers. It sent her body into a state of shock at the time, but now she almost yearned for it. What was this unholy desire?
Christine shook her head, sitting up straight. What he had done was improper. Of course, the situation called for it. This didn't change the fact that she wondered if his chest was as warm as ungloved hands.
Christine stood, taking the candle with her. Her girlish imagination had strayed away from the fact that he was hurt. There had to be something nearby that could help him. She searched through the desk cabinets, her eyes catching a glimpse of some medical supplies. She bit her lip as she grabbed them, turning to face the side door. Erik had saved her. The least she could do would be to clean his wounds.
Her cheeks burned with the thought of seeing his bare torso. Was he as defined as he felt through his shirt? She shook her head frantically as if to expel the thoughts in her mind. Now as not the time for girlish fantasies. Before she could reconsider, she raised her chin and walked to the door. She leaned close, unable to hear a sound from the other side of the door. Her curiosity grew as she wondered what laid on the other side of the door.
Gently, her knuckles rapped against the wooden barrier. Silence. She knocked a bit more forcefully, but was again met with silence.
"Erik?"
Nothing.
Christine sighed. "I am going to open the door. I found some medical supplies...for your back."
The silence continued and she scowled. With the candle and bandages in one hand, she slowly turned the handle. To her surprise, it was unlocked.
The room was dark, so dark in fact, that the candle did little but light a few inches in front of her. She swallowed down her fear of the dark and stepped forward into the abyss.
"Erik?" She whispered. She searched around her, seeing nothing. Blindly, she shuffled through the darkness. Her outstretched hand eventually found a slender wood column. She felt around, feeling the softness of silk covers near its end.
"Christine." His voice was a ghostly whisper and she jumped at the sound. She spun around to see him standing behind her. His silhouette was outlined by the candlelight, the gleam of his white mask reflective of the small flame. Christine swallowed a squeak as he leaned forward.
"I-I found-"
"Get out." He hissed. He staggered backwards, his foot barely able to catch himself before he fell. She nearly gasped- he was intoxicated. The scent of alcohol returned, but this time, Christine refused to let it scare her. She did her best to control her trembling hands. "You are injured. Let me help you."
"I don't want your help." He snarled, shuffling past her. She followed, her eyes now adjusting to the room. The pole she had found was the corner post of a bed. Erik nearly crashed into a nightstand next to the bed. He opened a small drawer there and searched through it. As he leaned over the desk, Christine had a better view of his back. The long red lines she had noticed earlier had now thickened, smearing along the back of his white dress shirt. A pang of guilt clutched her heart.
"Does it hurt?" Her words were a mere whisper in the night.
"No."
She took a step closer. "Did the Shah do this?"
Her finger traced above one of the red lines. She felt his back tense; the ripple of tightly contracted muscles and jarring ribs felt defined under her fingertip as she followed the curve of the wound from his shoulder to his opposite hip. Christine wasn't sure who had gasped at the touch, but it was the only noise in the silence.
"Let me help you." She begged under her breath. Throughout this entire journey, it was Erik who had saved her, shielded her from the Shah's wickedness. He could have let that guard assault her while she was in the cage or killed Sophia for her treachery. Yet, regardless of what he vocalized, he always seemed to comply with her wishes. He followed a path of forgiveness and saved her from despair. The tears that stung at her eyes were of regret. How could she be so selfish? She had done nothing to thank him.
Her skin tingled at the thought of what he wanted in return. Did he actually desire her, or was it all a façade? Was his kindness merely due to their childhood friendship? For their love of music? Or was it for something much more? Her hand reluctantly returned to her side. She reminded herself that he never made any demands of her. Raoul had kissed her often, saying that if they were courting, then he should have the right to touch her. On occasion, she would feel uncomfortable at his touch. But she never felt that way with Erik. Even his act in the harem wasn't entirely unwelcome. But she doubted he would desire her. She had betrayed him and caused him a considerable amount of pain. The wounds on his back were her fault. She was lucky he even considered her a friend.
Erik was like a statue, unflinching and seemingly lifeless. At first, she was terrified that he had stopped breathing entirely. But his slow turn towards her allowed her to relax.
"Why do you care?"
It was the same question as before, one she could not answer herself. She looked away from him, biting her lip nervously. How could she explain what she felt in her heart? It couldn't have been love. She loved Raoul, but this felt nothing like that. This was so much more.
"This is my fault." She whispered. She looked up at him, her breath hitching as she met his eyes.
He chuckled darkly. "How is the consequence for my own actions your fault?"
"You did it for me. You saved them because you knew I wanted them to live. You could have killed Sophia in the dungeon, but you didn't...because of me. And-and now you're hurt."
He waved his hand dismissively, catching himself as he nearly toppled to the side. "I am capable of making my own decisions. I chose to defy the Shah and I would do it a hundred times over if I had to."
Christine shook her head. "I wish you wouldn't. I don't like to see you in pain."
She lowered her head, hugging her free arm around her waist. All of this pain he felt was because of her. Though he forgave her for her betrayal, it was her selfishness that lead him to this horrible place. Her naivety and weakness that put him in the Shah's line of fire. She held up the bandages, doing her best to meet his inquisitive gaze.
"Please." She begged. "Let me return the favour."
She watched a lump in his throat bobble, his eyes briefly glancing down at her torso before returning to meet her own. Christine felt herself blush as she remembered her inappropriate state of dress. She hoped that his eyes were just as unaccustomed to the darkness as hers were.
Wordlessly, he sat on the bed. She watched in awe as he slowly unbuttoned the front of his shirt. There was a defined line that rode down his chest and stomach, defining his now exposed, taught muscles. He was lean; a mixture of scrawniness and strength. It took everything she had not to let her eyes wander, instead locking with his. They glared at her, almost testing her to stare. Christine looked away, setting the candle on the nightstand before walking to the back of the bed. She lifted her dress as she climbed onto the mattress, sitting behind him. For just a moment, she reveled in the feeling of the mattress and soft sheets. When was the last time she slept in a real bed? Her drooping eyes flared open as she examined his back. It was scattered with snarling dark lines, old scars that gleamed in the little candle light. They were painted with red from a series of new lashes.
"Who did this to you?"
"Save your pity!" He snapped. Christine flinched, causing him to turn. Though his words were harsh, she could see the vulnerability in his face. He seemed almost shocked by the words that left his lips. He began to mutter an apology, but turned away from her. Christine bit back a tear as she unraveled the bandages. This was not the first time he had been whipped. Why did he stay here, in a place that hurt him so terribly? Her fingers traced an old scar, one that stretched diagonally across his back.
"Why do you stay?" Her voice escaped like a choked sob.
Erik sighed. "I have nowhere else to go."
Her lips trembled. More than anything she wanted to beg him to return to France with her. At least there, he wouldn't be whipped and beaten. As she began to pat his wounds clean, doing her best to keep the remaining stitches in tact, she thought about where he would live. Would he return to the opera? He could be a musician there, his work premiering in Paris before moving onto theatres around the world. But then she remembered that his identity was now exposed and no one would accept him as a man. But he was an architect! There must be someone in Paris who would accept him, especially after they saw what wonders he could create? If she was not living with Madame Valerius, she would invite him to stay with her. Damn propriety! How could she send him to the catacombs of an opera house after all he had done?
She wrapped the bandages around his torso, covering the small tears in the stitching. She tried to list all the possible opportunities for Erik in Paris, but there was another common factor she could not escape: his mask. If they left Persia, would he take it off? All of her questions regarding the porcelain barrier had been avoided in previous conversations and now she was yearning to know the truth. What lied behind it? She was so close now, it would only take a second to remove it...
"Fazia is a viperous being." Erik interrupted. Christine nearly jumped as his voice rang in the darkness. "Over the past ten years she has fought her way into the Shah's good graces. She controls the harem with an iron fist, one strong enough even to deny me. We only had an hour to come up with some form of rescue and I am afraid this was the best we could come up with. I apologize for my behaviour." His voice broke towards the end, but he regained his composure with a forced cough.
"I understand." Christine stated softly, her thoughts of his mask fleeing from her mind. "Thank you, for rescuing me."
Erik scoffed. "I would not call that a rescue. It was monstrous."
"Monstrous? No, I would disagree. But impolite..." A small smile graced her lips as her fingers lingered on his lower back. "That I would agree with."
She could just see the corner of his cheek retract from a sly grin. "What do you expect? It was Darius's plan after all."
Christine chuckled lightly. "Why am I not surprised. Though in his defense, it was successful."
"You are now stuck in the chamber of the Angel of Death. I would not label this as successful, would you?"
Her skin flared at the huskiness of his voice, the light taunt in his tone causing her to smile. She flippantly shrugged, doing her best to hide the bubbling sensation in her stomach. "I've slept in worse."
"Really?" He turned his body, his shoulder mere inches from her chest. He swayed slightly, causing Christine to roll her eyes. It was the perfect opportunity to attempt at redirecting the conversation.
"How much pretending was your little rescue attempt? You seem quite intoxicated."
"I had to make my performance believable. A few bottles of wine seemed to do the trick."
Erik's eyes met her for a moment, two soft orbs full of gratitude. Neither of them enjoyed what had happened, both repulsed and loathing of the situation. Yet they understood the necessity of it and understood each other. Her fears vanished, replaced by some admiration of his resolve. He could have left her, he could have done worse, but instead he came for her. Her thighs rested against his as they sat next to each other. Their proximity felt anything but improper, almost as natural as breathing.
"What now?" She asked. She forced the words out of her lips. What did she want to do now? She wanted to crawl under the covers of his bed and enjoy the linger of his exotic scent. She wanted to return to the dungeon and hide from the madness above. She wanted to feel the heat of his torso on top of him. She wanted to run far away from this place and never look back. She wanted to sing with him, letting their voices mingle like their bodies. She wanted...God, she did not know what she wanted.
Erik's jaw tightened, his gaze glancing down at her lips for just a moment. "I want to-"
He was cut off by a loud bang. The main door flew open, causing both Christine and Erik to jump to their feet. In the matter of seconds, he had pulled her behind him, pushing her into the back corner of the room. His arms outstretched around her protectively just as Darius opened the bedroom door.
"It's the Sultana!" He panted. "She is coming here, right now. Nadir sent me to warn you. She wants to...to watch."
Christine could not understand Darius's words. Though he spoke in French, his tone was frantic and ragged in between deep breaths. Clearly he had run here, though he tried to keep his voice at a low hush. Just as quickly as he appeared, Darius darted out of the room and locking the main door behind him.
"What is he talking about? Who is the Sultana?" Christine asked, her hands firmly placed on Erik's spine. He turned to face her over his shoulder. That look of admiration was replaced with fear.
"The Shah's mother. She is equivalent to Grendel's mother, or Satan himself." Erik turned to her, gripping onto her shoulders. "Christine, the women of the harem are all vowed into a law of seclusion. Essentially, they are to remain in the harem, live their lives in the luxury of the palace, and never leave except to fulfil their duty." He glared at her as if hinting at his meaning. Her mind was in such a state of panic, however, that she could not interpret the undertones of his words.
"Their duty?"
Erik sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He stepped away from her, unable to meet her eyes.
"Their duty is to please the men that take them away. The Sultana is coming to ensure that the law has been upheld."
He spoke slowly, her body trembling with each syllable. Her duty was to give herself to him. A few minutes ago she almost craved the thought of him, but now she quivered in fear. She had no intention to bed him. It was improper, it was forced, it was a nightmare. Even worse, this woman was coming to ensure that she had given herself to him. She planned on watching them. The once fluttering butterflies of her stomach changed into heavy stones. She panted as Erik stepped closer towards her. He gently brushed her cheek, sliding a loose curl behind her ear. It would be a lie to say it didn't slightly calm her.
"I am afraid we do not have much time."
Thank you all for the reviews! I will respond to them next week-a little busy and posting a little late. So sorry! Thank you all!
