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Chapter 36: An Unwanted Unveiling:
Christine followed Sorelli briskly down the corridor, her heart ready to leap out of her chest. Fazia led a group of the harem women down the main corridors with a bold stride. The Eunuchs followed closely while the rest of the woman formed two lines behind them, like soldiers marching in a parade. It was unsettling to say the least, especially when other guards and staff stepped aside and bowed as they walked by. Christine felt like a sacrifice heading to the altar. As if in sync, the four ballerinas all looked at each other.
"When Sophia said we were going to be sold…" Meg muttered. "Do you think... that's what this is?"
Jammes whimpered but Sorelli hushed her gently. "We don't know that. Jammes, we could be fine."
"But it is a possibility."
"Shut up, Meg."
"What is the point in denying it?"
They were hushed by Laleh, who scowled at them so fiercely that even Sorelli sealed her lips together.
Christine's legs turned to jelly when she saw the opulent front doors to the throne room. The last time she was here, her friends were poisoned. Sophia and Ignacio's pained cries echoed in her mind, the image of their mangled bodies flooding her vision. Her trembling fingers gripped at her dress. She would give anything to never step foot in the room again, nearly releasing a cry as the doors opened before her. What horrors awaited for her this time?
The hall had changed drastically since her last visit. Long gone was the empty, grandiose room. Instead, it was filled with cushions, tapestries, and a large perimeter of tables, leaving a wide, open space in the center. It was alive with activity, ridding it of the still terror that suffocated her last time. Now, it was like a bazaar, the loud bustle of people reminding her of the Opera afterparties.
At the arrival of the harem, the many guests stopped and turned, silencing their conversations as the women walked by. Christine tried not to make her terrified curiosity obvious, doing her best to keep her eyes forward. She followed her line, the two groups splitting to walk around either edge of the tables. She gave one last look of concern towards Meg and Jammes as they walked down the other side of the hall.
At least I can still see them. She thought.
The guests stepped aside as they walked, all of them draped in elegant gowns of many muted colours. The jewelry and headpieces were still foreign to her, but nonetheless demonstrated that the room was full of dignitaries and royalty.
And at the head of the room, sitting upon his throne, was the Shah.
Christine nearly froze at the sight of him. He wore a white tunic top, decorated with shavings of gold. His black hair was gelled back, revealing more of his angular face. It seemed harsher, highlighting the devilish grin that formed as their eyes met. Christine quickly looked away, though she could feel his black eyes burning her skin no matter where she looked. He remained cross legged, comfortable against the throne in almost an almost confident slouch. She couldn't stop the shiver from crawling down her spine.
"Ignore him, I am here."
A gasp nearly escaped her lips as his angelic voice tickled her ear. It didn't take her long to find Erik. He leaned against the back of a chair, a chalice in his hands. He faced her, his yellow eyes warming her like a thick blanket on a cold day. Christine was embarrassed she didn't notice him right away. Physically, he was the foil of the Shah. His black attire contrasted against the colour of the room. His suit was more form fitting, the dark silks clinging nicely to his tall frame. The silver trim of his shirt outlined the hem of his tunic shirt and dress pants. He wore his black mask, the one that covered all but his thin lips.
Christine forced herself to blink. Why was she staring there? She noticed that his eyes seemed to gloss over at her more revealing dress, causing her heart to flutter. Did he feel...that same energy?
Her eyes quickly found Nadir. He appeared at Erik's side, nodding in her direction. His wide eyes signaled that she was staring and she quickly looked away. Of course, she couldn't be thrilled to see the man who supposedly forced himself upon her. Christine did her best to seem disgusted by Erik's staring, though her fluttering heart said otherwise.
The women lined up against the back walls. Sorelli's hand reached out and held Christine, who returned it with a tight squeeze.
"You scared?"
"Terrified."
Sorelli nodded. "Me too."
The bustle of the room continued. People returned back to their conversations, many laughing and clinking their glasses together. Christine was not oblivious to the sideways glances and stares. The majority of the guests were men, though all significally older than her. The crowd seemed different than the chieftan's party. The formal atmosphere was replaced by something more sinister. She trembled. She had performed in front of hundreds of men before wearing her leotard and tights. Yet she felt more exposed here, when her body was seen as an instrument of pleasure, not a graceful artist. It was the type of admiration that made her skin crawl.
"Breathe. I'm here, nothing can harm you."
Christine released a slow exhale. Erik was here, she reminded herself. Even with the Shah's beady black eyes on her, she knew that she would be safe with him in the room.
Her eyes glanced over to him. Those soft eyes drew her in, regardless of the crowd around her. It was as if they all faded away, leaving just the two of them behind. Her fingers slowly slipped from Sorelli's fingers as her arms fell limp at her side. They didn't have to speak to communicate. It was as if a song was flying between them, one that both were completely enraptured by.
He straightened, slowly sauntering towards her. Christine felt her lips part, a sweet exhale escaping her body. She was ready for his comforting touch, the softness of his gloves against her exposed skin. Would he hold her like before? Christine internally shunned herself for slightly hoping he would be nearly as brutish as he was that night in the harem. What kind of woman was she turning into?
His yellow eyes, which were locked with hers, suddenly flickered to the side. Whatever he saw, it caused him to halt and turn back towards Nadir.
Christine furrowed her brow, slowly turning to face his deterrent. She was greeted by a sickly sweet smile.
"Ah, Christine. I must say you look ravishing tonight."
The women around her curtseyed at the arrival of the Sultana. The older woman stood boldly before them, the wisps of grey in her mostly black hair barely showed in her elegant bun. It was the only sign of her true age, the rest of her appearance representing a boastful youthness. Sorelli fumbled and dropped into a quick curtsey, but Christine was unable to move. It was as if the Sultana's black eyes froze her bones.
"Your Majesty." The words barely escaped her lips, but Christine quickly recovered in a late bow. Her eyes remained focused on the floor.
A sharp nail hooked under her chin, slowly lifting her eyes to meet the eyes of its owner. "No need for such formalities with me, my dear. Come, his lordship requires your assistance."
It was as if tremours pulsed through her body. It plagued her with dizziness, caused her muscles to ache and shake. Yet, Christine forced a small smile and a nod as she followed the Sultana. Her body moved involuntarily. She tried to focus on the Sultana's dress, doing her best to remain composed. Her dress was long, made of sheer golden silks that barely revealed her dark corset. Her neck and wrists were anointed with jade jewelry that dazzled brightly against her caramel skin. The Sultana's sensuality did nothing to ease her raging heart, so she scanned the room again. Hesitantly, Christine glanced over at Erik. But instead of seeing the same warm eyes she had sought comfort in a few moments ago, she only saw a reflection of pure terror.
It caused her to gasp. She turned back, her eyes downcast and focusing on the lacy trim of the Sultana's dress. For an older woman, she carried herself like a young mistress, though no one dared glance in her direction as they meandered through the crowd. Erik had warned her many times about the Sultana, but she still could not understand why she was so dangerous. Christine gulped, certain that tonight would answer those questions.
"Christine..."
"Ah, my little diamond. I wondered when I would see you again."
The Shah. The Sultana placed a cold hand on her back, gesturing her forward towards the King. He remained seated, his eyes unabashedly raking down her form. Christine instinctively hugged herself as if it would hide her from his gaze. The dress that Fazia had given them was thin, almost like a silken nightgown that clung to her skin. It was held up by two thin straps, revealing her shoulders and arms as well as the top of her bosom. She was forced to release her hair from their usual pin up, letting her chestnut curls cascade down her somewhat exposed back. The Shah reached out his hand, slowly pulling her own to his lips.
"I must say, little diamond, you do continue to impress me. How boldly you stand despite all you have been through. Please, sit."
In between the two thrones laid a red pillow. It was slightly ahead of the thrones and Christine felt the hair on her back stand on end as she kneeled upon it. She was just far enough forward that she could not see the Shah to her left nor the Sultana to her right. However, she could feel his spiny fingers as he reached out to grab a lock of her hair.
Christine shivered as he stroked her hair like a pet. She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut. She couldn't bear to look into Jammes eyes and try to be strong for her. She couldn't bear to look at Meg or Sorelli and pretend she was alright. If anything, she wanted to hide within herself and never escape.
"Are you hungry?" Christine nearly jumped as the Shah leaned forward, his lips merely inches from her ear.
"No, thank you."
"Oh but you must be! I do not remember Fazia calling for an evening meal today. Please, eat."
Christine turned to face him, gulping as he picked a plump grape from a bowl to his right. He held it out in front of him. "Open wide."
She was bewitched, her mouth slowly opening to bite down on the sweet fruit as he fed her. Her natural instinct was to swat his hand away, but she could only obey every venomous word that rolled off his tongue. He smiled victoriously as the pad of his thumb slowly raked down her lips to her chin. He pulled her in close.
"Such decadent lips. Tell me, Mademoiselle Daaé. Are those lips capable of telling lies?"
Christine gulped. It was his all knowing grin that sent her over the edge. They must have known. Oh God...they must have known the truth.
The Shah's attention abruptly distracted by the approach of a woman. Fazia smiled as she bowed, greeting her King in Farsi. Christine let out a shuddering exhale of relief as the Shah's fingers slipped away from her chin. Fazia knelt before her king, slowly uncrossing his legs with her nimble fingers. Christine looked away, ignoring their heated voices as they conversed. Luckily for her, the sound of a horn stopped their provocative endeavors.
A man entered the center of the floor, ushering everyone to take their seats. As he rabbled on in Persian, Christine glanced around at her friends. Other men had taken some of the harem members, many of them sitting on their laps or standing at the side of their chairs. Jammes remained against the back wall next to Laleh, her shoulders visibly shaking from this distance. Both Meg and Sorelli stood next to the chairs of older dignitaries. While Meg did her best to seem composed, Sorelli wiped away small tears from her eyelashes. Despite the sight, Chistine felt relieved that none of them received any obviously brutish attention.
Her eyes finally found Erik. He sat in his seat, his mask turned towards the speaker in the center of the room. However, she could see his amber eyes stare in her direction. His fingers gripped the edges of the chair as he sat rigidly. Was he just as nervous as she was? Or was it fury in those eyes?
The man stepped aside as the room burst into applause. The doors opened as a group of dancers entered. Christine did her best to ignore the feeling of the Shah's eyes behind her and focus on the performance. It was different than what she was used to, involving a repetitive tapping of the foot and some questionable hip movements. However, the upbeat tune and smiles on their faces helped her forget for just a moment that she was trapped.
But only for a moment.
The Shah leaned closer, whispering in her ear again. "Do you enjoy the dance?"
Christine's throat felt dry. "Yes, your majesty. Very much so."
"I assumed so. Though you sing like an angel, you move like a dancer."
"I have studied ballet for most of my life, though singing is my true passion."
He sighed, a heated chuckle rolling of his tongue. The back of his knuckles traced down her spine. "I would love to see how you dance, little diamond."
Christine didn't respond, doing her best to stop her body from shaking at his touch. Instead she focused on the dancers, who bowed at the end of their performance. The room clapped as they left the opening.
Now it was the Sultana who touched her back, her icy hands causing Christine to twitch at her touch. "I believe you will enjoy the next presentation."
Christine furrowed her brow, gazing back up towards the center. Her eyes widened as a black silhouette walked forward, his hands in his pocket as he approached the royals. Her Angel of Music seemed entirely stoic, as if the atmosphere of foreign powers did not phase him. The Sultana was right; she did enjoy seeing him. However, the fact that the Sultana has mentioned it made her uneasy. Was it even worth pretending now?
As he bowed to the Shah, his eyes remained glued on hers. It was as if he was trying to tell her something. Unintelligible blurs of words danced in his iris and no matter how hard she tried, she could not decipher what it said.
Abruptly, he turned, walking back towards the main doors. Just as he passed the center of the room, one of his gloved hands raised into the air. His fingers spread apart for just a moment before his thumb and middle finger joined together.
Snap!
The room plummeted into darkness, the crowd gasping as all the torches suddenly extinguished. Christine panted, her eyes trying to adjust to the sudden blackness. She didn't want to be alone in the dark with the Sultana and Shah by her side. For just a moment, she wondered if this was her cue to bolt forward and run for freedom. A single flame kept her in her seat. It was blue, unlike anything she had ever seen before. It flared from one of the torches that lines the perimeter of the throne roo, earning a delighted gasp from the crowd. It flickered away just as another roared into life, its fire also a milky blue. Soon, the rest of the torches burned, illuminating the throne room with the strange light.
Erik had vanished. Christine furrowed her brow, searching around to find him. She wasn't alone, the entire room glancing around nervously, but none could find him. A small smile crept onto her face. He had shown her some of his magic tricks before, on the rooftop many days ago. She remembered as he pulled a coin out of her ear, the feeling of glee that took over her. What sort of wonders would he perform now? Maybe he could turn the Shah into a frog or make her disappear.
The flames flickered away for just a moment. But just before they were engulfed in darkness, one torch burst into a roaring flame. As if by magic, the flame leapt off the torch, arching over the crowd and landing on a torch on the other side of the room. The women squealed in shock as the men gasped in awe. Flames flickered back and forth, dancing from torch to torch. Christine beamed, watching the flames magically fly above her. A glint in the light caused her gaze to return to the center. There she found those familiar amber eyes. He had reappeared in the center, his fingers guiding each fireball across the room. It almost seemed like he was bending the flame from one side to the other. Christine was enraptured by his movements, precise and elegant, the power of his act radiating off him. Once he was certain the rest of the crowd had noticed his reappearance, he quickly collapsed onto his knees, spinning in a circle.
Poof! Bang!
A puff of smoke covered Erik just as the lights completely extinguished. Christine barely had time to adjust before something grabbed her arm, pulling her forward. She recognized the gloved grip, biting down her shocked squeal. If there was ever an opportunity to escape, this was the perfect time. Together, they could vanish into the night. Just as she began to rise to her knees, something sharp gripped at the back of her hair, yanking her back into her place. She let out a sharp cry as her wrist slipped free from Erik's grab.
The lights returned and just for a moment, Christine could see the same wide eyed look of confusion and terror in his eyes as earlier. Christine glanced back, shivering at the sight of the Sultana's fierce scowl. It slowly molded into a victorious smile, her fingers untangling themselves from her hair.
She knew. She knew that this was all some guise to get Christine away from them. Erik pretended not to be fazed. He turned to face the crowd and bowed as they erupted into applause. Christine could not tear herself away from the dreaded queen, who smiled down at her.
"Close." She chuckled, crossing her legs as she leaned back into her throne. "But not close enough."
Christine swallowed.
The Shah stood, stepping forward into the center. The room continued applauding and the Shah slapped Erik encouragingly in the back, a smile on his face. Christine shuddered as Erik winced. The Shah clearly hit directly across his fresh lashings. Erik's fingers curled into fists as he glared into the eyes of the King. There was an unsaid understanding between them. The game was obvious, the lie had been discovered, and neither planned to heed.
Christine could only pray that they survived the night.
Other acts came forth. Some singers, some more dancers. The Shah had ordered Christine to hold his tray of foods as he ate his share of meats and berries. Fazia sat across his lap, their hands wandering across each other tactlessly. Christine could only look away. A part of her was relieved that Fazia was there to distract him, lest he try to do that with her. Instead, she spent her time trying to enjoy the performances. Every once and while, she would briefly look over at Erik. He had returned to his seat next to Nadir, his eyes focused on the performances as well. Even from this distance, she could see the tenseness of his shoulders.
Eventually, a squadron of soldiers entered from the main doors. There were five of them, all decorated with oddly shaped weapons and thin straps of armour. Christine recognized the man in the center, the giant known as Hakeem. It was the Shah's guard that had threatened Erik after her performance. He bowed before the Shah, his verbal introduction booming across the throne room. Christine studied him as he spoke. She would never understand Erik's desire to challenge the man. He must have been pure muscle, a finely crafted warrior that crushed all in his path. Hakeem turned back towards the center and did the unthinkable. He winked at her. Christine furrowed her brow yet again. Why would he...
Suddenly, he rose his hands, earning a fierce whoop of cheers from the crowd. Clearly, he was a favourite amongst the nobility.
The Sultana tapped Christine's shoulder. "Have you met my friend Hakeem?" She asked.
Christine turned to face her. "I have seen him before, your majesty, though we have not been introduced."
The Sultana clasped her hands together. "He is the head of the palace guards. One of the finest warriors I have ever met. He comes to show a fighting demonstration. A prize will be given, and all the warriors must fight for it."
Christine gulped. "Wh-What is the prize?"
The Queen's eyes glanced over to her, the corners of her lips twisted into a crooked grin. "You."
Christine paled. She turned back to the men in the center. All of them stared at her, a fiery desire blooming in their eyes. Hakeem chuckled at her obvious fear.
"Is there anyone who wishes to challenge us?" He called out. Christine was shocked that he spoke in French to the crowd. Many of them seemed confused.
Hakeem stormed up the steps. Christine quickly placed down the tray, prepared to dash behind the Sultana, of all people, for protection. Just as she let go of the tray, his fingers quickly gripped her chin, forcing her to gaze upon him.
Hakeem was a brute of a man. He was large, larger than any man she had ever seen before. However, his bulging muscles only confirmed that this giant was a beast in the arena. His body sported a variety of faded scars, some of them hidden by his forearm pads. He wore thick, baggy pants like most of the guards, but neglected to wear any form of top. He smiled down at her.
"By the end of this night, we will know what makes you so special, won't we? We will know why he always seems to come back for more."
Christine tried to free her face from his grip, her muffled cries falling upon deaf ears. He abruptly let go of her, pushing her off to the side. The Shah merely laughed as she struggled to straighten herself.
"No one? Well, I cannot say I am surprised!" Hakeem boasted. "There is no man out there who could defeat me!"
"I will."
Christine's head snapped up. Erik had stepped over the table, now standing boldly before Hakeem's men. She felt her heart cease to beat. Her body trembled. No. No this was wrong.
"Erik, no!"
"Wonderful!" The Sultana cheered, drowning out the soprano's pleas. "The battle of the century. The Angel of Death and the Shah's personal guards."
The Sultana rose from her seat, seemingly gliding down the steps. Christine returned to her knees, tears swelling in her eyes. This was their plan all along. When the Shah had first warned her that she would be earned in blood, Christine thought she would be the one to be punished. But in reality, it was the both of them. Erik was a skilled warrior, there was no doubt about that. But how could he take down the 5 of them? Each of them were clearly well trained and heavily armed. Erik seemingly carried nothing on him, though she was sure that lasso would be somewhere on his person. But even then, would that be enough?
"How high are we willing to raise the stakes, I must ask." The Sultana looked around, teasing the crowd. "You did not come all this way to see a mere beating, did you? No! Of course not. This must be a battle to the death! The final decision that proves who is the most powerful warrior. Better yet, what better way to fight for the love of such a beautiful creature." The Sultana motioned to her. Christine tried to rise to her feet, eager to race down and pull Erik away. But the Shah pulled her towards him. She collapsed at his feet, crying out as he pulled on her hair.
"I told you, little diamond." He hissed in her ear. "Your wardens will earn you in blood."
Christine felt dizzy, her vision clouding before her. She could only watch as the Sultana approached Erik, her sinister grin widening.
"Oh, and one more thing."
With lightning speed, her claws raked across Erik's face, ripping his mask off. It clattered against the tile floor, sliding underneath the tables.
It was as if time froze. The room erupted into screams before Christine could understand what was going on. Meg leapt back into Jammes's arms, the two of them crying at the sight before them. Sorelli's hand covered her mouth, as if she was ready to puke. The rest of the dignitaries cried, screamed, and turned away from the sight before them.
Christine's hand covered her mouth before she could process what she saw. Amber eyes, puckered flesh, thin lips, disgusting scars.
Before her was the face of a corpse.
I will be posting the second half to this chapter hopefully by Wednesday (fingers crossed) so you will not have to wait for much longer. Thanks guys!
BadPixie06: SO glad you are enjoying the story! I really enjoyed reading your thoughts as you pushed through the story. I too have always been intrigued by stories based in Persia. There are just so many avenues to go down. The Shah and the Sultana are nasty people but they are no fools. It makes quite the pairing. Great thought about the tunnels! I will admit it wont be as phenomenal as they believe it will be. Thank you for your dedication!
PhantomGirl24: Haha Raoul just always has to get involved lol. As to who she chooses, you will have to wait and see. Muwhawha.
FleshofMidnight: Thank you! If only they could haha. Don't worry, it may happen sooner than you think.
Lucyole: Jammes really has grown! She is definitely the meekest of them all, but it helped her sneak around pretty easily. As for Raoul...you'll have to wait and see haha. (I know, I am cruel). Thank you!
Guest: Haha yyeeaaahhh. It was kind of fast, but it fizzled rather quickly.
Amya1020: Aw thank you so much! That means a lot. I am so glad you are enjoying the story :).
Guest: thank you for bringing that to my attention. It must have been an error with the page, but let me know if you can view it now!
