Enjoy!
Christine
Chapter 99
The Question
We went to my father in his bedroom.
He'd realized I was gone the night before. He'd panicked briefly, as I usually told him before I went anywhere, but he reasoned that, perhaps, Erik and I had reconciled. That I'd gone back to his chambers. To this day, I still have no idea how far my father suspected that Erik and I went in our affections. He'd asked me, once, between meeting Erik and now if I was sure I was "being careful" - I'd thought about the lambskins we always used, and decided that the answer is yes. He asked me if there was a second bed in Erik's apartments. The answer to that, technically, was also yes. He asked if I was using that other bed.
Again, the answer was yes - we hadn't used Erik's bed since the Echo incident.
He was satisfied, even though I felt a bit guilty that, though I was telling the truth, it wasn't the entire truth.
When he saw us come into his bedroom this morning, he looked relieved.
Until we sat down across from him. We told him what had happened. Erik had started doing most of the talking, and then I took over.
His smile, very quickly, disappeared.
He'd known about the Chamber. He'd been well-informed, by a combination of Nadir and Ibrahim and Erik - like me, there weren't many he could tattle to, knowing only French and Swedish, so Nadir was willing to divulge; I'd likely tell him anyway, if he didn't first.
What he didn't know, apparently, was that the Chamber required to people to operate. He didn't know that Nadir had planned to enter it. Had no idea, obviously, that Erik ultimately offered himself as a sacrifice.
But now, to hear that his daughter had entered-
"What in fresh Hell, Christine."
I felt myself redden. I wanted to reach out for Erik's hand - my father was rarely upset, but he did anger from time to time. This would no doubt, absolutely no doubt, stir some wrath within him.
"You refuse to see me all day - then not even a goodbye before you...you..." He whipped his gaze to Erik. "And you!"
Erik started, clearly not expecting the sudden tone directed at him. "Sir?"
"Not speaking to Christine for a week, then giving her a goodbye like that...I never-"
"I couldn't-"
"Well, clearly your plan wasn't the answer, was it, young man?"
Erik blinked.
"First," he said to me again, "you decide to go out walking through Paris, after dark, after I asked you, many times, not to. Now you're throwing yourself in harm's way without a single word to me...after I trekked all the way into this country...and not a single note, a sign, an embrace. Just a snap decision." He looked between us, furious. "Obviously, you were made for each other, making stupidly rash decisions like this."
"I'm sorry, Papa," I said softly. "There just...wasn't time..."
"No time?" He stood, face white. "No time to say goodbye to your father? No time to let him know he might never see you again - for a second time? Really, Christine!"
I looked down, shame hotter than the iron tree.
"The important thing," he said lowly, "I suppose, is that you are safe." He looked at Erik, lips pursed. "My daughter just sacrificed herself for you - after you abandoned her without explanation, and then gave her a book to read as a farewell. Do you understand that?"
"Yes, sir." His voice was a whisper.
"And you understand what a blessing that is?"
"Yes. I do. Of course."
"Good. Because if you didn't, I would recreate that Chamber and stuff you in there myself."
Over dinner, with Erik, my father, Nadir, and Reza in attendance, we began discussing the concept of going back to France.
The Prince, apparently, was being crowned in the morning. Izad would be Shah.
"The Persian Court," explained Nadir, cutting into his meat, "the entirety of Persia, in fact, was all too eager to accept Izad's explanation of what happened to his brother." He smiled ruefully. "One would almost think his nation didn't entirely love him."
I looked at Reza, whose food had already been cut for him. He was picking up a piece of meat with his fork and putting it into his mouth. I wondered if Nadir would be free in explaining all that occurred to his son, now, or if he would continue to be vague. Secretive. I wondered how safe it was now to speak of it to him.
"When will we leave?" asked my father.
"Two mornings from now," he responded.
I jolted. Two mornings. Two morning and I - we - would return to France.
I looked at Erik. At the shine in his eyes as he looked at Nadir. I knew what was in his had. He hadn't expected to go home. Hadn't expected to have a home to go home to. He'd seen marrying me, living a quiet life in France, as a pipe dream. A carrot to chase, but ever out of reach.
"Will we have an escort?" asked Erik. "Money?"
"Yes. Shah Izad will provide us funds."
"Us?"
Nadir cleared his throat and put down his fork, looking at all of us. "Yes. I plan to be your escort. I understand, from speaking with Monsieur Daae, that Paris is a lovely place to raise a child."
Erik let the words register, and then gazed at Reza with a look of adoration and relief.
He would get to keep all of his loved ones, after all.
After dinner, Erik took me up to the roof. Like all those nights ago, he'd brought wine. And a blanket. One, this time.
We laid side by side, watching the stars. Taking in the sounds and sights and smells, taking in the beauty. The night's beauty, and each other's.
"Christine."
I looked at him. "Yes."
"I have a question for you. A request."
I turned to him, on my side. "Anything."
"I asked you a while ago, but...now-" He went to the pocket of his robes and brought out a small box. He sat up, holding his hand out for me. I took it and he pulled me up too.
Then he opened up the box to reveal a beautiful, sparkling diamond ring.
My hands went to my mouth.
"Ibrahim fetched it," he explained. "At first, he tried to get the most gaudy-"
"Yes," I squealed
Erik stared at me, then smiled and laughed, pure happiness in the sound. "I haven't even asked you-"
"Then ask!" My hands shook. "Ask!"
"Hm." His grin widened. "I don't know. I think I like watching you like this - completely possessed with joy. I think I'll delay the question-"
"Erik!"
"Oh, Christine, how do I love thee," he mused, looking away from me, gazing at the ring in the box. "Let me count the ways."
"Erik-"
"Let me count them slowly. One-"
"Erik."
He looked at me, raising a hairless brow, amusement in his green and brown eyes. "Yes?"
I pulled his face toward mine. His smile disappeared, replaced by a sudden hunger as he took in my eyes. My lips.
"You talk too much sometimes, did you know that?" I asked him, too close to his mouth.
He let out a needful sound, closing his eyes. I pressed my lips to his. And kissed him, deeply. He clutched me against him with his free hand. We lost ourselves in the stars - the ones above and the ones twinkling in our souls.
When we were both breathless, he at last pulled away.
"Christine," he said in his beautiful voice, "will you marry me?"
