Thank you so much to the guest, Aphaea21, smrb, peanutpup, lindaweng, crawfordphantomluvr, phanrose, SloaneDestler, and Mominator124 for the lovely reviews!

Note: Although I intended for Luciana's death to feel as sudden as it felt for Erik (and had given VERY subtle clues as to her fate, so I don't think anyone expected it), I do feel as though I unintentionally "glossed over" it - as in, I didn't make it as impactful as I could have. Hopefully, the next flashback chapter remedies that, as it will go a lot more into what happened and how Erik is feeling :)

CW: Sexual content

TW: Suicide

Enjoy!


Christine

Chapter 66

The Lotus

The morning after Christmas, Erik went to bathe before me. He had only been gone from the study a few seconds when I, naked as the day I was born, made a snap decision. I jumped from where I slept and ran after him. I stopped the door to the bathing room from closing behind him. Surprised, he opened it fully, looking me up and down. He smiled.

"Need to use the toilet, Christine? Must be an emergency for you to scurry like that." He put a hand on his hip. He'd changed back into his nightclothes to walk to the bathing room.

I shook my head and smiled back. "Do you remember...I think it was the third day I was here? When you asked me if I wanted to join you in the bath?"

His smile faltered, a flicker of emotion lighting his eyes. "Yes. I do."

"Well," I said, moving closer, sliding my arms around his waist as he took a deep breath at the contact, "now I'd like to."

My father told me that people were like books - that all lives were stories, but some people's faces were easier to read than others. Even when he hid behind his sarcasm, Erik had never been a difficult book. It was a shame, really, that he wore a mask so much of his life, because Erik's story was beautiful. I was at least glad that his eyes and mouth were as expressive as they were, so that even when his face was behind silk, I could see his soul. Every single movement of his face told a story, a poem; his emotions were the writer - his eyes the rhyme and mouth the rhythm.

And right now, his face told me that, yes, this was something he wanted as much as I did.

He pulled me in as I held onto him and closed the bathing room door behind him. While he made to undress, I filled the tub with water. When there was decidedly enough to dip ourselves into, Erik kissed my forehead. He went leg by leg into the tub, and then took my hands and helped me in as well. He sat. I followed.

But feeling entirely too far away from him, facing him like this, I turned around so that my back was against his stomach, his legs on the outside of mine. I leaned back and put my hands on his thin thighs, stroking them softly. He inhaled a bit raggedly, and my lips turned themselves upward at the feeling of him hardening behind me.

I reached behind me, found him, and moved my hand up and down. He groaned softly, bringing his arms around me.

I went a bit faster, and he tensed, emitting more lovely sounds of pleasure. But then he asked me stop.

"I don't want to dirty the water - and you keep going as you are, I certainly will."

I nodded and moved my hand away, bringing it to his thigh again. I watched, then, as his own fingers picked up my rose-soap. He dipped it in the water.

"May I clean you?" he asked, playfulness in every syllable.

I laughed. "Yes, please."

He lathered the soap in his hands and brought it to my chest, moving it with slow sensuality over my breasts, stomach, and arms. The lower half of my body tingled with want, and I moaned very softly, closing my eyes.

He brought water to the places he'd cleaned, washing away the suds. He kissed my shoulder, lingering his lips there, and brought his hands once more to my chest. One stayed on my breast, while the other trailed with infuriating laziness over my sternum, down to my naval, and finally down to my most sensitive body part.

I gasped as he found the piece of me that caused the most pleasure and played with it, like a he was playing an instrument. I wondered if this was how he learned most skills - self-taught but quickly an expert. And, like an instrument, he seemed to know exactly how to move his fingers to make me emit certain sounds.

I laid my head back on his shoulder as I felt myself crack open and euphoric light poured through.

"Erik," I said softly, and at hearing his name said in the midst of my rapture, he shuddered.

"I'm drying you off," he said, "and taking you back to bed."

I opened my eyes, still in a bit of a daze. "We'll need to bathe again."

He stood up behind me and pulled me up too. "We absolutely will."


"Erik?"

He looked up at me from where he sat, across the table, on the other couch. We'd taken our second bath (actually getting ourselves clean this time) and were now sitting down to breakfast.

"Yes?"

"If Nadir has apologized for...I think he said 'being greedy with your time'..."

"Yes." He put down the cup of coffee he'd been holding and listened.

"Does that mean," I continued, moving a bit of egg around with my fork, "that you no longer need to make the..."

"Torture chamber?" he finished for me, averting his eyes, bare face setting in a frown. "No, it doesn't mean that."

The way he now wouldn't look at me, my mind flashed back to his mention of a secret he couldn't tell me. My stomach twisted at the memory.

Not now. Not right now. The day started with such beauty - don't bring up his secret.

"Nadir," he continued, staring at his plate of food, "still very much wants his revenge on the Shah. He does not want me killing the Shah without it. He is insistent upon the torture chamber, and taking that away from him could be a dangerous thing." He finally brought his eyes to mine. "He apologized, but that doesn't make him any less ruthless. He can be crueler than his ruler, should he wish to be. I've seen it - the way he deals with petty criminals is frighteningly cold. And that is coming from the Angel of Death." He gave an emotionless smile. "All that's changed by that apology is that he is now willing to leave me alone when it comes to my relationship with you."

A knock at the door. Erik sighed in annoyance but got up to open it. And on the other side was Ibrahim.

"I saw breakfast being delivered," the Grand Vizier said, walking in with a smile, "and I was hoping you'd share."

"Don't you get breakfast delivered to your own chambers?" Erik asked, closing the door.

"Yes, but they forgot my apricots," he answered, making himself at home next to where Erik was sitting. "And look - plenty of apricots right here! You're not going to eat these, are you, Erik?"

"Those are Christine's." Erik followed and sat next to me. He picked up his drink and lifted it, as if in a toast. "I drink coffee."

Ibrahim looked at me. "Rose?"

"Go ahead." I put down my plate and picked up my tea. "You can have them."

The Grand Vizier picked up an apricot and bit into it, humming and closing his eyes at the taste. I smiled, but Erik rolled his eyes. "You're quite the gentleman, taking food from a lady's plate."

Ibrahim's mouth was full. He opened his eyes and gestured to me. "She said I could have it!"

"Because she's polite, you wild animal."

"It's fine." My mood had lifted considerably since the talk of Nadir. "Really, I wasn't that hungry, anyway."

Erik crossed his arms and watched with veiled disgust as Ibrahim continued eating the fruit. I merely sipped at my tea, trying to hide my grin.

"So," he said, as the Grand Vizier took the last few bites of apricot, "only here for a visit, or is there another reason you have graced us with your presence?"

"Here to visit friends," Ibrahim said, putting the stem of the fruit onto a napkin and folding it. "I quite enjoyed that Christmas celebration yesterday - if my dear parents ever discovered I had celebrated an infidel holiday, they'd surely lose their heads - religious people, you see. But...well, I suppose there are more dire things they could discover about me, aren't there?" He smiled, but held a hint of that pain he'd spoken of before - the fact that there were so few who knew his true self - who understood and accepted him.

Erik, I think, was thinking the same. "I am glad to see you in better spirits, Vizier."

Ibrahim's smile finally reached his eyes. "Yes, I-"

"But you said once before that this isn't the real you," he continued softly, watching him. "We already know many of each other's secrets - you don't have to put on an act, if you don't wish to."

Ibrahim's expression softened. He looked back at him for a while, taking him in, then looked at me. He came to some conclusion, then nodded his head. "With the two of you," he said finally, "it is not an act." His eyes lingered on me for a minute. "I must ask you something."

"Me?" I said.

"Yes." His smile left. "Do you not wish to be called Rose?"

My brows lifted. "Oh. I-"

"I did not think about how it might affect your emotions, until this morning. Do you wish for me to no longer call you by that name?"

"I-" I blinked. I think that if it was anyone else, it would have bothered me. But he always said it with such affection, like it was a term of endearment. "I don't mind one way or another."

He nodded, seeming to genuinely take my words into consideration. He looked down. "I... I think I have existed in a sort of privilege."

"You?" said Erik in a faux shocked voice. "Privileged? As the second most powerful man in Persia? No." But he said it gently - remembering, of course, that there were aspects of Ibrahim's life that were certainly not shrouded in silver and gold.

"I do mean it," said Ibrahim. His face was suddenly hard. He looked at me. "I have to admit that I have never given much thought as to what being a Flower is like."

Erik uncrossed his arms. I furrowed my brow. "Oh...oh, it's fine," I said. "I mean, of course you haven't. It's not something that really...concerns you, is it?"

"As part of the royal court, it absolutely should." He thinned his lips. "The newest Flower in the Garden has been...difficult to train."

I sat up a little straighter. Erik narrowed his eyes and asked, "What do you mean?"

Ibrahim's stern face turned to Erik. "She is not compliant. Only so obedient as to not be punished. But she is...intentionally slow to learn. She has been dubbed The Lotus, and comes from China. My first reaction to this news was to think...why not simply comply? Surely she will be punished eventually for her insolence. But-" He sighed. "I would not want to comply either, I think."

A knock at the door. Again.

"Now who could that be?" asked Erik, getting up. "Can't be Nadir. As of late, he's taken after me and forgotten how to knock."

He opened the door a second time. I watched as a male servant handed him something, and then bowed and walked away. Erik closed the door and turned, staring at the object in his hand. It was an envelope.

"What is it?" asked Ibrahim, also standing, as Erik opened it and pulled out a letter. "A kill command? If so, it must be urgent - the Shah usually gives them to me to hand to you."

Erik's bare face whitened as he read. He looked up slowly to Ibrahim. "It is."

"Who is it you must execute?"

"The Khanum's ladies." Erik seemed not to breathe. "For their negligence. The Shah wants them put to death for letting his mother lock herself in the bathroom, for not noticing the knife she took in with her. For not acting before she was able to bleed herself out in the tub."