Thank you to Pensez-a-Erik and peanutpup for the reviews!
Edit: Had a great question in the reviews of this chapter - they were confused about the time and place in which Erik is telling his story to Christine. This will be revealed later, when their timelines completely converge :)
Enjoy!
Erik
Chapter 85
The Flower
I have told you everything I can, Christine, of my life. Everything I have deemed important for you to know and understand.
And I do not very much want to relay what transpired between my arrival in Persia and meeting you. But I will. I will keep it brief.
The moment I stepped foot in Persia, I was taken to meet the Shah. The Khanum. Ibrahim.
I began performing magic for the Khanum. And it was nothing new - I'd been doing this work for months. Magic and singing.
I also met Reza - and I cared for him immensely. The fact that he could not see meant that he was forced to know me for me, with no preconceived notions of what my face might tell him. It also meant that he was immune to my curse - if he could not see my appearance, then my appearance could not kill him.
To show my affection for him, I created a mechanical doll that could play violin - the key to make it work was to clap. And Reza loved it. It had been the first time in a long time that I felt joy at another human's presence.
Of course, I still had Ayesha. And of course, I demanded that she be given a diamond collar. A crown fit for a queen.
Life was peaceful for a couple of months, but it wasn't long before the Daroga found the automaton, found out exactly how skilled in engineering I was. It wasn't long before he came to me and told me what he intended.
His plans to kill the Shah - but not just to kill him. To torture him until he begged for death.
He was the one to come up with the Chamber. He was the one to suggest it to the Shah.
And when he told me what the Shah did to his wife, I felt just as much rage as Nadir. In that moment, upon hearing that I could create something to kill this cruel Shah, I agreed to make the Chamber. Only Nadir and myself - and later Ibrahim and the Prince - were aware of who the Chamber was meant to kill. The Daroga assured me that I would only need to build it - that I would not be in attendance for the death.
It was around this time that the Khanum grew bored. When she learned I was building the Chamber, her intrigue was piqued, and she demanded that I, too, entertain her with death. Replace music with blood.
And you know what happened then, don't you?
Well, I was absolutely stricken with anger at the idea. At the thought of killing dozens if not hundreds of men and women, I informed the Daroga that I wanted to quit. That I would be terminating my time here early.
He told me that I could not. That my leaving would result in Reza's death - it would be seen as a failure on the Daroga's part that he "lost" the thing he brought to Persia - and it would result in my own death as well.
I went back to my chambers and screamed in grief.
I would not kill Reza.
And I would not die that way.
I promised my family that I would stay alive. I swore that if I died, it would be for something bigger than myself - and I learned, too, that these men and women that I'd kill would be executed regardless, and in a much more painful way, so what would my death really change? At least I could make their deaths easy - as easy as I could.
So I stayed.
And then came the news that the Shah wanted the Chamber to not just torture, but act as a sort of game. A competition. Should one man commit suicide within the Chamber, the other would be set free - and it would only work if two men entered. Thus, to kill the Shah, someone would have to enter the Chamber with him and have a strong enough will not to give up. We considered, of course, simply building the Chamber so that only one man was needed for it to work, regardless of what the Shah wanted. He was the one we'd be killing, anyway. But we knew that the Shah may want to test it first - and disappointing him was not wise.
I volunteered to enter the Chamber. This. This was bigger than me. Killing a tyrant was certainly worthy of my death. And how poetic, really - the captain, after all, must always go down with the ship. And if I survived, then I would at last be free to leave.
We also knew that it would have to self-regulate. Work on its own. No levers to start and stop it, lest someone should attempt to end the torture prematurely. So we - I - set to work. The Khanum, of course, could become a problem if she caught wind of our plan somehow. I ensured as best I could that she did not interfere.
But as one year turned into two - long past the length of time I was told I'd be in Persia - the more life weighed me down. The first time I killed, I vomited. The second and third time, too. My mind eventually grew used to it, yes, but my heart never did. And I could never, ever catch a breath.
Until you, Christine.
It was two years to the day that I'd first come to Tehran, when a knock sounded at my door.
I had been working on the Chamber, of course. Planning for executions never took too long, so most of my time was devoted to the Chamber. The sooner I created it, the sooner I would be free from my bonds here.
I put down my pen and went to the door. Too early for dinner. Perhaps it was Ibrahim come to take up my time.
I opened it wide. Not Ibrahim. The Daroga, surrounded by three other people.
"Nadir," I said lazily, trailing my gaze past him and over his entourage, "I am working, so unless this is-"
The words stopped in my throat. Next to him was a girl, scantily-clad and beautiful beyond reason.
You.
The Daroga cleared his throat, and in a tone that implied this was a speech given directly from the Shah, told me, "The Shah would like to thank you for your service, for all you have done for his and his mother's entertainment these past few years. I present to you the Rose, a Flower from the Garden. The gift of a wife. The Shah hopes that you enjoy her, and he is pleased at your immense gratitude for this most prized gift."
My eyes never left you. The entire time, I merely watched as you held my gaze behind that transparent veil. Afraid. So afraid of me. So afraid of what I would do to you. Of course I knew of the Garden. Everyone in Persia knew of the barbaric Garden. As I listened to the Daroga speak, anger grew in me.
The moment the small speech was over, that anger had turned to a blaze. I turned to the eunuchs, as I now knew them to be.
"Bring her forward," I said. Even I could hear the harshness in my tone. You cringed, so slightly I'm not sure it was intentional, but the eunuchs pushed you toward me. And I wanted to be gentle - to be kind. But I was so fiery, so furious on your behalf, that I knew I looked cruel.
I moved the veil over your head to see your face more clearly. "What is your name?" I asked.
You merely stared back, eyes wide, opening and closing your mouth.
I narrowed my own eyes and tried again. "What is your name?"
One of the eunuchs whispered behind you, in French, "Your name."
Relief entered your eyes. "Christine."
French. You were French. I looked between you and the eunuch and stated as much.
You confirmed it.
That fire blazed even hotter. I whipped my gaze to the Daroga. "Do you mean to tell me that this girl was taken from her home in France and brought here to be a toy?" It was obvious. I didn't have to question that fact - of course you were taken. You were a Flower. But I wanted to make Nadir squirm. It wasn't his fault, but he was currently the closest thing I had to the Shah.
To my satisfaction, Nadir did appear uncomfortable, feet shifting, before saying, "She was." He was just as disgusted by the Garden as I was.
Taken. Held against your will. Used. I knew what all of that was like, and I would not put you through that. "Apologies to the Shah, Daroga, but I will not be accepting his gift. I have no need for kidnapped sex-slaves."
I turned to you to tell you this in French. Your shock at my knowledge of the language would have amused me had I not been full of rage.
I began closing the door in all of your faces when the Daroga told me, "She will be put to death should you not accept. You will be punished as well."
I whirled on him. "Excuse me?"
"She will be put to death," he repeated, "and before you ask - yes, you will likely be the one to kill her."
My gaze went to you, at your still-staring blue eyes. I tried to clear the irritation from my expression and tone, tried to be soft instead, but it didn't work. "My dear," I said, "do you understand the duties that you were brought here to perform?"
"Yes." You looked so utterly disgusted and frightened that I wanted to slam my fist into the wall.
"Very well." Perhaps if you yourself chose death over me, refused to enter my chambers, then it would not be my fault that you died. It would be...it would be yours. My hands would be clean. Perhaps it would prevent the Shah from gifting me such a present in the future as well. "I have seen your face. Come forward, remove my mask, and see mine."
For a moment, I thought you would refuse. Surely you'd heard of the horrors of my visage by now. But you found the courage, somehow, and removed the mask from my face. Your reaction of terror was not a surprise. I'd expected it. I always expected it.
"Were you informed of the consequences if you do not complete the duties that you were ordered to perform?" I asked you.
"Death," you whispered.
"Yes," I agreed. "That is what our friend the Daroga just told me. Now, I am trying to prove a point to the Shah, that his gift is wasted on me. Tell me, my dear Christine, wouldn't you rather die than lay with me?"
I'd expected an immediate yes. That your yes would come with a refusal to enter my rooms, with you falling to the floor in tears, begging to be taken away, to be put out of your misery. But you didn't say yes. You blinked, thinking, and responded, instead, "No. I wouldn't rather die."
I froze.
Of course, I knew, this didn't necessarily mean you wanted to share my bed. It didn't mean that at all. It merely meant that I was preferable to death. Which meant that you would enter my chambers if beckoned. Which meant that turning you away would most certainly be my decision - your death would be on my hands.
What a terrible bind you put me in, Christine.
I could not return you to the Shah now.
So I took back my mask, turned to the Daroga, and requested a second bed. A dresser. Clothes.
And I turned to you, still wide-eyed and frightened and alone.
I felt, in that moment, the need to protect you. I felt, as the Daroga and eunuchs left us alone, that your safety was now my responsibility.
"I suppose," I said to you softly, "I should introduce myself. My name is Erik."
