Things have been awkward since that lesson. Erik and Mélanie tried to act like nothing happened, but it was clear they were both embarrassed by that kiss. It appeared that Mélanie wasn't in love with him and was just overwhelmed with emotions, but he could never be too certain. Still, during their next lesson, he clearly set boundaries between them, saying that he did not have romantic feelings for her, but will still love her like family, as she put it. She apologized again for the incident and they proceeded like normal, but something was still off. Mélanie wasn't the cheery girl she was prior and even her parents noticed. Martha tried to ask directly what was wrong, but Mélanie insisted everything was fine. Of course, that wasn't a satisfactory answer, but she couldn't pinpoint why she would lie.
That is, until the topic of marriage was brought up once again. Henry and Martha's wedding anniversary was in a couple of days and the household was preparing for a gala with numerous guests. The servants were busy with more chores than normal as they prepared for the big event and even Erik tried to help whenever he could to ease their workload. Jasper and Anna tried to convince him not to since they feared Henry would scold him for doing work beneath his stature, but Erik was always insistent on helping and promised to not get caught. After all, he was skilled at sneaking around and "disappearing", so he had no trouble keeping the secret, except for Mélanie, who practically bullied him into telling her. To his benefit, she decided to help him and canceled their lessons for the week, claiming that she had a sore throat, and even pretended to strain her voice all week. Though, this altruist act seemed to make Martha even more suspicious and if Mélanie wasn't going to tell her the truth, maybe Erik would.
During the day, it was her job, as the woman of the house, to supervise the servants and keep them in check. Normally, a manor would have head staff to do those tasks, but she figured this was her way of keeping herself busy and useful, especially since the staff was small. Whenever she entered a room, the servants would greet her and continue with their work unless they needed to give her their full attention, which gave Erik plenty of time to "disappear". Though, the only exception to the rule was Anna, who either ignored her entering or exasperated her greeting, causing annoyance to Martha. Unfortunately for Erik, the one time he was alone with Anna was the one time he was caught. They were ironing tablecloths when Martha entered the room and she was surprised to see him there.
It took them a moment to realize she was there and when he looked up, he nearly jumped. Anna noticed his reaction and teased, "Someone's in trouble."
"Mademoiselle. Jones, if you please, I would like to speak with Erik in private," she said sternly.
"You don't need to be formal with me, Martha," she said with some bite at the end of the sentence as she left the room, leaving the two alone as requested. Though, Erik could sense anger seeping out of Martha and hoped to ease it before he became a victim of her displacement.
"Is she usually like this?" Erik asked. "I appreciate her as a coworker, but if she worked for me with that attitude, she would have been fired a long time ago." He felt bad talking bad about her, but he observed over his lifetime, especially during times of abuse, it was just easier to agree with a person and hope they would calm down before their anger became more violent.
She let out a sigh before saying, "If her brother wasn't an exceptional servant, I would have, but we cannot have one Jones sibling without the other. Even if he agreed with our reasoning, he would leave with her so they could work together. Believe it or not, she was a sweet girl when she and her brother first came here. She did her very best to behave and look professional in front of my family, especially since they were so young. However, a year ago, things started to change," she confessed.
"How so?"
He noticed her hesitation which soon turned to complete abandonment of the topic. "I was meaning to ask about you and my daughter."
"Wh-What do you mean?" he asked, trying to avoid this subject as well.
"I don't know all the details, but I know something happened between the two of you. Mélanie could not get enough of you and your lessons and all of the sudden, she cancels them?"
"Sh-She has a sore throat. It is unwise to practice until she fully recovers or risk harm to her vocal cords."
"I know a liar when I see one. Where do you think she learned how to fake a sickness from?" she said before chuckling a bit. "I even use that trick whenever I'm not in the mood to satisfy my husband's . . . physical needs."
Erik felt like he was caught in a spider's web and had no chance of escape. "Well, you know how your husband feels about me working with the servants. She wanted to give me more opportunities to help out."
"I know we have been busier as of late, but that still does not explain why she would cancel. You could have done both since my husband locks himself in his study for hours."
"Though, there are the occasional times that he would call for me and discuss whatever is on his mind."
She noticed his uneasy face and pried, "Something did happen. Tell me."
"Nothing happened," he lied, hoping she would drop the subject soon and leave him alone. However, what she said next surprised him.
"Did she say she loved you?" He looked at her with surprise and she let out a sad sigh. "We may not have known each other for long, but I know that you would never hurt my daughter in any way and I truly admire that. Still, that poor girl is a hopeless romantic to the point that it causes her pain."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I'm sure that you noticed that Mélanie doesn't leave the manor."
"She told me that Henry would not allow her to leave since she would attract the wrong kind of men."
"That's what she believes to be true, but we never told her the real reason," she said with sadness in her voice. "The last time we went to America, she attracted the attention of two suitors: an oil-fielder and a dynamite manufacturer. She told me that she loved them both equally since this was the first time she ever fell in love and it was difficult for her to choose between the two. However, for some reason, after speaking with Henry regarding marrying her, they stopped courting her completely."
"What did he say to them?"
"He never told me and when I did ask, he said that it wasn't my concern." Martha said with crossed arms. Erik kept his suspicions to himself. "It pained me so much to see her so heartbroken, especially since they never gave her a chance to say goodbye. But that wasn't the end of it. When we returned to France, another man, a sawmill owner from Thunder Mesa, followed us, saying that he was taken by Mélanie's beauty and wished to court her if the other two failed. I thought this was bad timing; she wouldn't want to engage in another romance so soon, but she proved me wrong and quickly fell in love with the new man,. However, he went back to Thunder Mesa and never returned. Then one day, when Mélanie was roaming Paris by herself, she met a rowboat captain and it took no time for them to fall in love, but—,"
"He disappeared without a trace?" Erik concluded.
"No, actually, while on holiday, he was rowing down a river, but got swept up in a current and was pushed down a waterfall. His body wasn't found until days later."
"That's awful."
"Indeed, and sadly that was when we banned our daughter from leaving the manor. I hate to do this to her, but I don't want her to endure another heartbreak. The poor girl falls in love too easily to any man that gives her any positive attention, as you know," Martha said, making Erik blush out of embarrassment. "But I trust you won't break her heart like the others did simply because you will not start a relationship with her. Then again, Henry has grown fond of you and might offer her hand in marriage so you can officially become a Ravenswood."
"I-I would be flattered that he trusts me so strongly that he would let me marry his daughter, but I wouldn't accept it," he said, about to explain why without offending her or Mélanie, but was cut off.
"I don't blame you. Who would want to be part of this cursed family," she said with a sullen look before quickly returning her smile. "Well, I guess I should let you get back to work. I'm sure Jasper appreciates the help." She left his side and he could finally release a sigh of relief. However, what she said about her daughter troubled him: was she really cursed or did her father have something to do with it? After all, two disappeared after speaking with him, most likely meaning he forced them to stay away somehow. One disappeared after returning to Thunder Mesa, but knowing how often Henry leaves to go there, would it be far-fetched to say that he suffered the same fate? The only anomaly was the captain and accidents do happen, right?
The day of the anniversary ball finally arrived and Erik was tasked with taking care of the horses to keep him out of Henry's sight while he made sure the servants were doing everything they could to make the night perfect. He did not mind this task since he always had an attachment to animals, especially those kept in captivity. At least these dark beauties were regularly fed, bathed, and loved. On the way to the stable, though, he noticed Mélanie standing under one of the oak trees, looking up at a branch that held a black raven. Soon, it left its perch and flew down toward her, but instead of trying to scare her, the bird flew right in front of her and landed on shoulder. Mélanie petted the bird and noticed Erik staring at her from a distance. She blushed, but waved at him. "Hello Erik."
"I didn't know you knew how to train birds," he yelled as he walked toward her, but made sure his voice wasn't too loud to attract any unwanted attention.
"I don't, but she has taken a liking to me."
"She?"
"Well, I can't say for sure, but I feel a feminine aura around her."
"Auras? Do you believe in that kind of thing?" Erik asked, not to be mean, but out of genuine curiosity. Even though he was called a Phantom and a Devil's Child for years, he never believed in the spiritual world or the occult. It didn't help that he studied the art of magic and sleight of hand, so any "miracle" could be explained. Still, he was always curious why people believed in these things. Mélanie kept quiet, forcing him to apologize. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
"No, it's fine. Honestly, I have a hard time explaining it. It's not something I like to admit to others."
"If you wish to keep it private, I understand," he said, but she didn't seem to hear him as she continued.
"I see a grey aura around certain people," she explained. "Whenever I see it, I instantly feel dread, even if I was elated just moments before. I have yet to figure out its meaning, but I know that it means something bad will happen to that person. One time I saw it around my uncle and a couple days later, he died in a duel." Wait, a duel, Erik thought. That sounded familiar "I've seen it with past relationships, but only one resulted in a death. Most of the other times involved strangers that I passed by, so I never learned of their fate."
"Th-That's a lot to take in," he said, surprised that she would tell him this idea so easily. She must really trust him. "And when did you notice that you had this ability?"
"It seems like I had it forever, but I think I know when it started," she said as she petted the raven on her shoulder, but it soon moved down her arm so she could pet it easier. "When I was younger, I was born with a weak heart. My mother told me that a doctor was needed at our house constantly since I would faint unexpectedly all the time. One day, I fainted like usual, but I wasn't waking up. The doctor said that I would certainly die, and my father begged them to do whatever it took to save my life, saying he would pay for whatever treatment needed, even if it bankrupted him. I remember dreaming about a woman who had a blue-green aura around her giving me the choice to wake up or continue sleeping forever. I told her that I wanted to wake up so I could see my parents again. She smiled and the next thing I knew, I woke up from my coma."
"Perhaps that woman was an angel," he said, still trying to process this story.
"She must be since she actually cured my heart. I haven't felt faint and was able to play with other kids normally since that incident. The doctors couldn't explain how I got better, but still advise that I take precautions in case I have a relapse," she said cheerfully, and the raven slowly started to flap its wings, leaving Mélanie's arm and flying towards Erik. He was startled by the bird's sudden flight and tried to move out of its path, but it was determined to land on his shoulder. "Not too long after that, I noticed this bird had the same aura as the woman and she has stayed close to this household."
"Are you sure that one of the servants didn't domesticate it?" he said as he looked into its beady eyes and felt uneasy.
"I asked around, but no one even seems to notice her unless I point her out. I named her after the woman from my dream: Morella."
"Morella? I'm surprised an angel would give out their name."
"Well of course they would. I would assume that they would want to build trust with a human by telling them their name," she said matter-of-factly. Erik was about to say something to counter her point, but remembered that he kept his real name hidden from Christine for months, even when she met her Angel of Music in person, so he could keep a barrier in their relationship. Clearly, that did not pan out the way he wanted it to. "By the way, I expect to continue our lessons tomorrow. After all, I'm feeling better," she said with a playful wink.
"Of course," he said with a genuine smile. "I just hope that your voice is not out of practice. We were making a lot of progress."
"Let's hope not," she said before they both heard the door to the manor open behind them. Out came Henry, who looked like he was in the middle of changing into his evening clothes before coming out here in search of something.
He locked eyes with Erik and said, "Ah, there you are! I've been looking for you everywhere."
"I-I didn't realize," he said nervously as he watched him approach them with haste. The raven flew from Erik's shoulder and out of their sight.
"Shouldn't you be resting, Mélanie?" Henry said with a caring tone. "If you're still feeling unwell, I would like you to save your energy so you could spend at least a little time with us tonight."
"Actually, I was telling Erik that I was feeling a lot better and will resume our lessons tomorrow," she said with the usual fake happy tone.
"Splendid! I'm sorry if I was interrupting your conversation, but I need Erik's advice on something. Please, come with me," he said almost demandingly as he started walking back to the manor without hearing another word. Erik looked at Mélanie before he followed the patriarch inside. "I do apologize for my appearance. I must look like a mess."
"Not at all. Besides, I haven't even started to get ready," he said. To be frank, he dreaded attending the party since so many people would be there, possibly some that were in attendance of the Don Juan Triumphant debut. The audience got a good look of the man responsible for terrorizing and burning down the Opera Populaire, so anyone could recognize him, especially if he was the only guest wearing a mask. He just planned to hide in his room and if he absolutely needed to leave, he would keep out of sight of the guests.
"Did I tell you what the theme of the ball was going to be?"
"N-No you haven't. I wasn't even aware there was a theme."
"It's a masquerade ball!" Henry said jovially.
"A-A masquerade? That's an unusual choice for a wedding anniversary, wouldn't you agree?" Erik said, surprised by what he had to say.
"For some, yes, but I always like to be different from the rest of these nobles that expect things to play out by their arbitrary rules." Both men finally reached the master's chambers. Henry opened the door for Erik to walk inside and he marveled at the size of the room. It was larger than his whole underground lair and it included a fireplace, more filled bookshelves, and statues of different historical and mythical figures that were almost as tall as Erik. "Besides, I thought it would be best for you. I want you to have a good time as well."
"D-Did Martha agree to it?" he said, still not sure how to respond to the revelation.
"She was actually the one who suggested it," he said as he picked up the clothes that were laid out on his bed. "There will be no sad faces tonight. I guarantee it or else I would be a terrible host."
"I-I-I don't even have a costume for tonight."
"I already took care of that," Henry said as he walked to the closet and pulled out an elaborate red fur cape. He handed it to him as he said, "Erik Chaney, I hereby crown thee the King of France." Erik was speechless, but took the cape from him and examined it. It looked pretty expensive and was soft to the touch. Even the tiny gold chain to keep it on his shoulders was made of pure gold. "I had Anna complete the rest of your outfit. It should be in your room." Erik wasn't used to this kind of generosity and was expecting him to either take it away or demand a favor in exchange for this gesture. Still, he had to hold back tears that wanted to escape his eyes.
"Thank you," he said timidly. "I should get ready for tonight. If you'll excuse me—,"
"Oh, before you leave, I wanted your advice on a gift," he said as he walked to a drawer and opened it, pulling out something shiny before closing it. He then presented the object: a small, yet expensive, broach with a ruby surrounded by a decorative gold design. "Do you think this would be too much? I've been debating if she would accept something as expensive as this, since she never seemed to take any interest in expensive things," Henry asked with an uncertain look.
"Not at all. I'm sure your wife would love it. It is a fine gift for a noblewoman," Erik said, though he was a bit confused by Henry's comment. He was under the impression that Martha liked expensive things, even if she didn't flaunt them on a regular basis. Maybe she wasn't materialistic like most noblewomen are?
"I do hope she does like it," he said in a less-than-happy tone before putting the broach back in the drawer. "I trust that you understand that the gift is a secret."
"Of course. It is only natural for a husband to give his wife a gift on their anniversary," Erik said with a nervous smile. Henry returned the smile and dismissed him from his room so they could both get ready. Erik was relieved to be free from his audience and headed to his room. Now knowing that this was a masquerade ball eased his troubles a bit, but he was reminded of the last ball he attended: the one that he threatened the entire company to perform his opera or face a terrible accident. It's a shame that the chandelier would have fallen no matter what the managers' chose.
As the night fell, guests from all over France entered the manor. Each wore elaborate costumes ranging from animals to legendary heroes to caricatures of political figures. As Henry promised, everyone had a smile on their face since the Ravenswood family provided a large array of food, drinks, and entertainment for everyone to enjoy. A live band of 20 musicians played many songs for the guests to dance to and they too looked like they were having the time of their lives. It was hard to remember that this was specifically an anniversary ball due to the high-energy ambience of the room.
Erik took a deep breath to calm his nerves as he walked down the staircase into the ballroom. Compared to his cape, the rest of the outfit seemed pedestrian: he was given white slacks, white button-down shirt, and a red vest with a gold tree-branch design throughout the fabric. He kept his usual mask on and wore a tiara that Mélanie gave him, saying it would "complete his outfit". To most men, they would be insulted to wear women's jewelry, but to Erik, he was fine with it, especially when the cape was the highlight of his outfit anyway.
He tried to stay out of people's sight, but a group of guests noticed him and started to bow, though some of them were trying their hardest to not fall on their faces. Clearly some of them were enjoying the wine a little too much. "Vive le roi de France!" they yelled in a drunken manner before laughing hysterically. "Let's hope this one is better than the last. If not, we can always chop off his head." Feeling uncomfortable, Erik quietly left their side without saying a word and luckily, they did not follow him to continue to berate him. Sometimes, he hated drunk people, and sadly, that was not a problem limited to one's social class.
He tried to see if he could find anyone he could recognize, but that proved difficult with everyone wearing a mask. Even the servants wore masks along with matching uniforms, so it was even harder to locate Jasper and Anna. However, it was not that hard for someone to find Erik as he felt a tap on the shoulder, startling him. He turned around and saw Martha wearing a Greek goddess costume and judging by the crown on her head and the gold on her mask, she was Hera specifically. Though, with the nearly full wine glass in her hand and the flushed cheeks, she might have been mistaken for Dionysus. "I'm happy to see you here. I was afraid you would still hide in your room the whole time."
"You and your husband have gone out of your way to make me feel comfortable. I couldn't possibly refuse. Though, I have to ask if you are comfortable doing all this despite you two being the guests of honor."
"I'd wager that none of the people here are even aware of the occasion for the ball. Nobles will find any excuse to party," she said before taking a sip. "I've had a number of people wish me happy birthday. Some even said congratulations on my daughter's engagement even though no one has made an effort to court her."
"I guess when you have more money than you know what to do with it, you can afford spending all your time going to these kinds of parties and not caring about who hosts it and why. I was never given that luxury."
"This isn't your first ball, is it?"
"No, actually I've been to plenty, but I've turned down more than I accepted due to my demanding work schedule. Sadly, not a lot of nobles know the struggle of having to work just to live," he said as he was soon filled with regret and apologized profusely. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that toward you or your family."
She chuckled. "Don't worry, I understand your perspective, but just because we have the funds to live in luxury, that doesn't mean that we are a happy little family," she said as she took a large sip from her glass. "I was born into money while my husband had to earn his wealth. My family thought it was risky to accept his proposal since they feared there was no security in his money if he ever faced misfortune."
"What made them change their mind?"
"I guess you could say my love for him, but that wouldn't be accurate. I always wanted a life with a bit of risk since I grew up with all my needs met. Even if Henry remained successful until the day he died, it was still a thrill to know it could be gone with a bad investment or a major accident. It was enough to make life exciting."
"How interesting. Personally, I would try to live my life as comfortably as possible since my life has had many difficulties."
"Really? Well, maybe one day, you can tell me all about it," Martha said with a drunken smile. Erik felt some regret for what he said since he was not fond of the idea of sharing any aspects of his life, even if he had to lie about some of the details. "Well, I should mingle with the other guests. Someone has to tame these wild beasts. You should indulge yourself, even for a little bit. After all, you helped the servants prepare for tonight. Reward yourself," she said with a wink before she left his side to join the energetic crowd. Some remembered to congratulate them on their anniversary, which made Erik feel happy that some guests actually cared about the event rather than the party. Martha, however, seemed to use the forced greeting as a drinking game.
Despite her invitation, Erik kept to himself and merely watched everyone else have fun. It was a refreshing experience to be part of the festivities rather than watching it from the sidelines, but he was sure he would make a fool of himself if he tried to imitate what the others were doing. Alcohol could help ease his worries, but he always abstained from it. He lived a life that was worthy of a few stiff drinks and feared that if he got a taste of relief through alcohol, he would grow to rely on it. He saw it with his mother and did not want to repeat that deplorable behavior. Still, maybe he should enjoy himself for once and let loose. If he kept his mask in check, he wanted to know what it was like to have fun for once.
"Erik!" Mélanie's voice rang out, grabbing his attention away from his thoughts. He turned to see her wearing a Greek goddess costume as well, but she decorated it to distinguish which one: flowers and butterflies pinned to her braided hair & mask and slightly pink toga, but towards the skirt, the flowers and butterflies seemed to shrivel, and the toga transitioned to black. She wore nude ballet shoes instead of walking around on her bare feet, which may have been more authentic for this spring goddess, but it was probably wise to wear shoes with a floor scattered with sticky alcohol and broken glass. "Can you guess who I am?"
"I believe you are missing your crown, Oh Queen of the Underworld," he said playfully with a bow, making her giggle. "I am surprised you would choose Persephone over the other goddesses like Athena or Aphrodite."
"I don't like to be a cliché and Aphrodite is a popular choice for women," she said as she pointed at the crowd to prove her point. Out of all the women who attended with a Greek goddess costume, more than half dressed as the goddess of love, whether their beauty was worthy of the title or not.
"Fair enough," he said as he finally found Henry among the crowd, wearing a lavish Zeus costume, which included a white cape decorated in gold, matching toga, a mask decorated with gold lightning bolts, and strappy sandals that reached to his knees. Whenever prompted, he would flex his not-so-impressive muscles to the crowd that cheered as if he was Hercules. "I see your father is really getting into character."
"He will find any excuse to throw a costume ball just so he can play a character for the night. I would too, but that would mean I would need a man to trick me to eat pomegranate seeds to force me to stay in his world for the winter."
"I'm sure your mother would not like that," Erik joked.
"I begged my mother to dress like Demeter, but she insisted on being Hera. I can't say I don't see why," she said before subtly averting her gaze from Erik. "I thought about asking you to dress as Hades, but I thought it might have suggested we were a couple."
"I'm sure your father would not like that, especially if that meant I kidnapped you," he said with an uncomfortable laugh. It wouldn't be the first time he kidnapped a woman and dragged her down to his lair. "Besides, he would keep calling me 'brother' all night."
""He has already done that to someone dressed as Poseidon," she said with a chuckle before they both grew quiet. After a moment of awkward silence, she continued, "Care to dance?"
"Oh, I'm a terrible dancer. I would only make a fool of myself."
"Suit yourself," Mélanie said before she left Erik's side to dance with the others. He was glad to see that the Ravenswood family was enjoying themselves; whatever was troubling them before was put in the back of their minds temporarily. He wished he could do the same, but it was hard for him to ever lose his guard, fearful that something bad would happen to him if he did. Maybe tonight could be the first step to break down those walls he created. If he is going to be an active part in the Ravenswood Manor, he should learn to trust them and allow himself to be vulnerable enough to have a worry-free evening.
As he took a deep breath to calm himself, he noticed a sweet smell in the air, as if someone was wearing a strong perfume or cologne. He tried to figure out the source of the scent, but among the sea of masks, he thought he spotted someone familiar. Too familiar. A woman with brown hair tied into a high bun, green eyes, and light skin all packaged in a dark purple toga and mask. "Is that . . . ," he said with shock as he stared at the woman who passed by him. She looked like . . . But why would she be here? As if she heard him, she took off her mask, showing her full face, and he lost his breath. "Ch-Christine?!" he said to himself. He felt his legs shaking a bit and his heart started racing. Never in a million years did he imagine he would see her again. He wanted to hide, but something in his mind told him to go after her, even if he didn't know what he would do when they locked eyes.
After looking around a bit, Christine started to walk away from his sight, but Erik's feet seemed to move on their own as he instinctually followed her. He felt himself sweating, dreading all the different outcomes of their encounter. Would she be fearful and cry for help at the sight of him, blowing his cover? Would she be angry with him for all the trauma he caused her? Perhaps, she might be . . . happy to see him. That was a fantasy compared to the more realistic scenarios. Despite all the cynicism, he still wished for the best outcome. As he got closer to her, his mind kept getting flooded with more and more conflicting thoughts telling him to both confront and avoid her.
"Christine!" he finally yelled as he placed a hand on her arm to keep her from running away, but as he got a closer look at her, he was startled to see the woman before him wasn't Christine at all. Although she wore the same outfit, her skin was much paler and her hair was light purple, as if she was wearing a very convincing wig. Her eyes, although they seemed purple at first, were the same green as Christine's, but it was clear to Erik: this woman was not her.
"Pardon?" she said as she looked him in the eyes. Despite being grabbed by a complete stranger, she did not look afraid.
"I-I'm so sorry. I thought you were someone else," he said as he quickly let go of her.
"I'm assuming her name is Christine?" she asked playfully. He nodded, afraid to say anything else that would embarrass him. "Judging by how you rushed over here, I'd assume she's someone special to you."
"Y-You were watching me?"
"Well, as a woman living in the dangerous city of Paris, I must be aware of my surroundings and you were a suspicious stranger heading in my direction. I am Eris, by the way," she said as she extended her hand for him to shake, surprisingly not to kiss. Judging by that gesture, he assumed she wasn't a noblewoman, but maybe someone of a lesser class who decided to crash the party.
"The goddess of discord? That's an interesting choice of attire," he said as he shook her hand.
She chuckled. "Yes, that is my costume, but my name is actually Eris. Eris Melania, to be exact. And your name?"
"It's Erik. Erik Chaney," he said nervously. She seemed to look surprised, causing him to feel self-conscious. "D-Did I say something wrong?"
"Not at all. I was expecting you to play your character," she said as she gestured to his costume. "Then again, I'm probably the only one at this party that shares the same name as my character."
"I just hope that is all you share," he joked, but she didn't return a laugh. "I mean that I hope you don't strive to cause trouble like the goddess did in mythology."
She was quiet for a bit before saying, "I don't look for it, but it does follow. I am under the impression that humans will cause their own trouble, but blame it on celestial beings to avoid accountability." Erik didn't know how to respond to that and Eris quickly picked up on that. "You know, this reminds me of a story written by an American poet. I forget who wrote it, but he wrote a story about a disease ravaging through a kingdom, killing thousands of people, but instead of helping, these nobles decide to lock themselves inside a castle and throw a massive party."
"The Masque of the Red Death? By Edgar Allan Poe?" he asked in surprise. Out of all the stories, she chose the one that he based his previous masquerade costume from. It scared him a little how coincidental that was.
"That's it! And of course, my favorite part is that despite their best efforts, the disease, or should I say, Red Death, crashed the party and infected all the selfish nobles."
"I hope you're not suggesting that you predict a tragedy like that will strike this party."
"Oh I hope not. But, parties like this do attract some less-than-desirable companies. Tragedy can strike whenever demons enter, but only if humans are susceptible to their promises.
"That's . . . ominous," he said to himself, but loud enough so she could hear. Instead of being insulted, she laughed, making him feel a little better.
"I like you, Erik. People around here are trying to hide their inner demons, but you're the most honest person I've met here."
He laughed with discomfort. "I'm sure we all have our inner demons we wish to keep hidden."
"I suppose," she said with a smile that seemed to hide something. "But I would like to talk about this Christine girl with you."
"I'd rather not," he said uncomfortably.
"Oh, but you must indulge me. We are becoming friends and friends tell each other their secrets."
"Not when they just met," he said as he tugged his collar.
"Perhaps I should reveal a secret to you to make you feel more comfortable to share," she said with a smirk. She got close to his ear and started to whisper, "Demons do exist, mon amie—,"
"Marie!" a middle-aged man yelled, startling them both. As they turned to the man, he got closer to Eris. "What do you think you're doing here? My wife could see you and try to kill you."
"Then maybe you shouldn't have let her see us together in the garden," she said blatantly. Erik was very confused about what was happening.
"You should have at least worn a wig. Your golden hair is quite unique," he said as he tried to touch her locks, but she grabbed his wrist. Isn't her hair purple, Erik thought? He had to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.
"Careful, monsieur. You might get tempted again and last time I checked, you didn't like public fortification . . . or maybe getting caught gave you the thrill you were looking for?" she said seductively. Erik wasn't sure if she was trying to dissuade or entice a conflict to happen.
The man gulped before proceeding, "We need to leave."
"But I'm having a friendly conversation with my friend, Erik," she said with a playful pout and a wink.
However, before Erik could say anything to rebuttal, the man grabbed his collar forcefully. "A friend, huh? You're trying to take my Marie away from me, aren't you? Trying to seduce her with your sweet words and empty promises?"
"O-Of course not, Monsieur!" Erik stammered. He feared that if he got more violent, he would punch in his face, resulting in his mask being removed and revealing his face to the would-be horrified crowd. If he needed to, Erik knew how to fight well enough to keep himself from getting severely harmed, but one mistake is all it would take to ruin this little glimmer of happiness.
"Let him go! He has done nothing to you to provoke this kind of reaction!" Eris begged.
"Francine!" another voice exclaimed from relatively nearby. A second gentleman approached the group and went to hug Eris. "My love! You said you were going to Versailles for a couple of weeks. How come you didn't tell me you returned?"
"Get your hands off of her," the first gentleman said as he let Erik go to push the second man.
"How dare you separate me from my wife!"
"Your wife? Marie, you never told me you were married."
"Monsieur, you are mistaken. My wife would never commit the terrible sin of adultery, especially with the likes of you."
"Oh dear," Eris said under her breath.
"Katarina! I can't believe my eyes," yet another man yelled from the other side of the room.
"What is happening?" Erik finally said out loud. Eris noticed the third man about to reach them and figured the fun was over.
"Well, Erik, I do hope we meet again in better circumstances," she said rather fast and was about to run away from the scene, but before leaving, she pulled something from a pocket in her toga and gave it to him. It was a golden apple, as if it was made from pure gold, but it was surprisingly light, with an inscription carved into it: καλλίστῃ. "I know that you won't believe it, but to me, you are the fairest among this masquerade," she said with a wink before dashing away. The three men noticed her escape and quickly followed her, all calling out different names.
She wasn't kidding: trouble seemed to find her. Either she was playing a game and messing with all these men or all those women happened to look like her. Then again, he remembered the first man said Eris had golden hair despite her clearly having purple hair. She was definitely an interesting character. Though, the way she seemed to look into his soul and pick apart things that would get a reaction out of him unnerved Erik. Who just randomly brings up The Masque of the Red Death at a masquerade ball?
Suddenly, there were loud rings of silverware meeting glass, grabbing everyone's attention. The orchestra stopped playing in the middle of their song and most of the chatter drew to silence. Erik looked in the direction of the sound, finding Henry, holding the glass and fork in question, and Martha on the top of the staircase. "Thank you all for attending our anniversary ball. I'm sure you are all having a magnificent time, but I must pause everything for a brief moment," he said with his arms up in the air, as if delivering a monologue in a play. He then turned to his wife and grabbed her hand in a loving fashion. "My dearest Martha. For 35 years, you have made me the happiest man alive and I'm grateful to God every day for having you in my life. We were able to raise a beautiful daughter and run a mining town on the other side of the world. None of this would be possible without you and to show you my gratitude, I want to provide you with a gift."
With a snap of his fingers, Jasper walked to the couple with a boxed present wrapped with a red bow. Erik knew what was in the box; it must be the broach Henry showed him earlier. However, it seemed like an awfully big box for a small item. Martha took the gift and eagerly opened it, surprised by what she saw inside, but not happy about it. She pulled out a bottle of wine, surprising Erik, but the rest of the crowd awed. Martha held back disappointment as she held the bottle closer to her.
"This specific wine was bottled in 1825, a year I will never forget: the year of our wedding. In fact, all the liquor served tonight was bottled in 1825 so everyone can enjoy," Henry said loudly to the crowd, followed by cheering from the entire party, except for Erik. Amongst the noise, Henry looked back to his wife and said only to her, "I saved this bottle specifically for you, my love, since I know this one is your favorite."
"Th-Thank you," she said softly so only he could hear.
"Now, let's continue our festivities!" The crowd cheered and continued their partying as if they weren't interrupted in the first place. Erik, though, couldn't quite continue as he was still shocked by the gift. He watched as Henry kissed Martha's cheek and left her side. With a more profound disappointed face, she walked down the staircase, trying to avoid as many people as she could. However, she noticed Erik's shock and walked up to him.
"Is something amiss?" she asked feebly.
Since he didn't expect her to speak to him, he said nervously, "I'm just surprised by the noble gesture. It must have cost him a lot of money to get all the alcohol from your wedding year for everyone to enjoy."
"And yet he thinks saving one bottle for me is a worthy gift for our anniversary. If he truly loved me, he would know this brand is actually the one I prefer the least," she said as she put the bottle down at a nearby table.
"Oh, well then," he said with some embarrassment. "I would have assumed he would get you something more flashy to show off both you and his wealth, like most patriarchs do."
"Like a broach?" she asked bluntly. Erik's eyes widened hearing her say that, making her close her eyes and nod her head. His reaction was the confirmation she needed. However, instead of asking more questions, she requested, "Can you find Anna for me? She seems to be slacking off when she should be working."
"Of course," he said as he quickly left her side. Did Martha know about the broach? That might explain her disappointed look, which she was disguising by saying the bottle wasn't that great. He did notice that Martha grabbed the bottle when she thought he wasn't looking and opened it to drink from, proving she was lying. Did she find the broach some time ago and was waiting for him to present it to her? Possibly, but that brings up another question: where was the broach? Henry asked Erik if he thought it was an appropriate gift for a lady, but if it wasn't intended for Martha, then who?
As he looked for Anna, who was missing from the party entirely, he noticed that Henry had also disappeared. It seemed weird for him to be missing out on the fun he created, especially since he was so invested in it earlier. Maybe he grew tired? But the ball hasn't been going for that long; arguably, it just began. Still, he had a task to do and if Anna wasn't at the ball, then perhaps she was resting in a secluded room. He couldn't blame her for doing so; everyone worked hard to prepare for this event.
He checked every room by the servant's quarters, but she was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she was in one of the guest rooms since they were closer to the banquet hall? It was worth a shot. He continued his search, but he eventually heard scuffling in one of the closed guest rooms. He knew better than to open the door rashly; years of navigating a perverse backstage of the Opera Populaire taught him that. Though, he still had to check if Anna was in there, so he peeked through the keyhole, but he was surprised by what he saw. He was right: it was Anna, sitting on the bed, but next to her was Henry, with most of his accessories on a nightstand nearby. He handed her a box with the matching red bow as Martha's gift, but the box was a lot smaller.
"Sorry for keeping you waiting, but you know that I have to make a presence at the ball before I take a long absence," he said with a lecherous smile.
"I understand. A maid can easily get lost in the crowd, but a host stands out when he's gone for too long," she said as she opened the gift and gasped at what was inside. She lifted it up and Erik had to hold in an audible gasp: it was the broach! "This is too much! I could never wear this without people asking questions."
"Then keep it hidden. I want a woman like you to have at least one piece of nice jewelry. One day, you can wear that with pride."
"Or I could sell it. We do need the money," Anna said teasingly before kissing him quickly. "Though, if I was that desperate for money, I could just ask and you would have given it to me."
He then gently pushed her onto the bed and got on top of her. "Of course, my sweet, for as long as you keep this little arrangement a secret from my daughter and continue to please me, I shall give you everything you ask." They began to kiss passionately and rubbed their arms around each other's body, but Erik felt as if he was going to collapse. He quietly stepped away from the door, hoping that neither of them acknowledged his presence. He couldn't understand why he had such a strong reaction in seeing the affair; he had witnessed similar affairs like this everywhere he went. Maybe it was because he knew each player well enough during his stay here. He may have expected Henry to have an affair, judging by his family's reaction to him, and maybe he could have expected Anna to be part of a scandal like this, especially since she seemed to have an interest in other families' scandals, but he would have never predicted that they would be part of this scandal together.
And to top it off: Martha might have known about the affair already. She knew about the broach and specifically asked Erik to find Anna. Henry even said that he didn't want his daughter to find out, not his wife. Did she want Erik to find out since she was angry with her husband about not receiving the broach? Did she want to ruin Erik's impression of him? It wasn't that high to begin with, but he didn't want Martha to know that. Still, now that he knew Martha and observed her emotions throughout his stay, this betrayal hurt him deeply, as if the betrayal was done to him.
He decided to walk back to the party, purposely avoiding Martha, who at this point was drinking heavily and seemed to have forgotten most of her troubles. Now he had an idea of why she drank as much as she did. Poor dear. He also made sure to avoid Eris in case she wanted to pry into his soul and make him discuss what he witnessed, but since their encounter, he hadn't seen her once despite seeing all her suitors walking around. Maybe she left to avoid any more drama? He hoped so, for her sake.
He did, however, notice Mélanie engaging with one guest in particular: a man dressed as the Mad Hatter. His costume consisted of a maroon blazer, a green vest underneath, olive-colored velvet pants, pointed black shoes, and a hat that seemed to combine every color he wore with a card with 10/6 handwritten on it. The man himself had a soft jawline, a clean-shaven to emphasize his youth, brown hair that was hidden away under the hat, sun-kissed skin that suggested that he was no stranger to manual work outside, and hazel eyes that showed genuine enjoyment while talking to Mélanie and vice versa. It was nice to see at least one of the Ravenswood enjoying the party.
As the party progressed, Erik decided to remain in the shadows to avoid speaking with anyone. He still had to process his discovery and figure out how to approach this tomorrow. Martha would certainly ask him questions and as much as he wanted to lie to protect her, he knew that it would hurt her more if he did. However, Jasper had to pull her away from the party and guide her to her chambers since she was fully intoxicated and nearly passed out. Henry and Anna did eventually return to the ball and acted like nothing happened. Anna joined her brother in serving the guests, especially when they slowly started to leave for the night. Overall, the masquerade ball seemed to be a success as many guests left in a more jovial mood than they entered with. Henry made sure to say his farewells to everyone he could and apologized for his wife's absence. The last person to leave was the Mad Hatter, who was accompanied by Mélanie on the way out.
Every servant was exhausted from the event, but knew they had to clean up the mess while the Ravenswoods got ready to rest for the night. Erik decided to help with the servants since both Mélanie and Henry were too tired to protest. He wished them goodnight before cleaning up the hall from all the many messes the guests left behind. He also made sure to keep an eye on Anna for no reason other than to observe if she was exempt from cleaning; she was not. After a couple of hours of exhausting work, the servants were dismissed to their quarters for the night, all dreading to wake up early the next morning to perform their usual tasks. Erik slipped away from everyone and headed to his room. He didn't want anyone to see him go to his privileged room while the rest slept in shared quarters.
As he entered the room, he quickly took off the cape, happy to finally take the costume off and be himself. Although he didn't play up to his kingly character, it was still exhausting to try and be someone else. Moments when he was alone in his room were times he both treasured and dreaded. He changed into his night clothes, but noticed a loud thump on the floor. With a quick look, he noticed that Eris' golden apple fell from his pocket. He picked it up and looked at it closely, noticing that there was no scratch. Was it made out of pure gold? It would be too extravagant of a gift to just hand to whoever was at a party. He still wondered why she chose to give this to him, but he didn't have a chance to talk to her again. He placed it on the mantle, making sure the engraving was showing as he walked to the bed and turned off the lantern by the bed, shrouding the room in darkness. He laid his head on the pillow, letting his thoughts form before he took off his mask. Once everything was set, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Drip, drip. Drip, drip.
The familiar sound of a lake filled Erik's ears and woke him. Though, the sound was unusual since there wasn't even a faucet close by for running water to escape from. He tried turning on the lantern on the nightstand, but not only did he not feel one, but the entire nightstand was missing. As more light filled his eyes, he noticed that he wasn't in the guest bedroom at all, but the room was still familiar to him. He was back in his lair underneath the Opera Populaire, but how? He finally got out of bed, looked for the bust that he used to keep his mask on when he slept, and quickly put it on. He quickly walked out of the room and, sure enough, there was his home with the pipe organ that he wrote his unheard masterpieces, the seemingly thousands of candles that were needed to light up this forever dark place, the various pieces of furniture he had to build from hand, and other evidence of his presence. It was as if he never had to flee.
"There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion, even by the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jest can be made" a feminine voice said from behind him. Startled by the voice, he turned around quickly and found Eris sitting by the foot of the lake, reading a compilation book of Edgar Allan Poe, most notably, she was reading an excerpt from the very story she mentioned earlier. How did he miss her earlier? She set the book down, rose to her feet, and continued as she walked toward him, "I've been waiting for you for quite a while, but I guess you had other things to do before you went to sleep."
"How . . . How are you here?" Erik said, not knowing what else to say. He didn't even know how he got here.
"Dreams are unpredictable, mon amie, but we always try to create safe spaces in our mind," she said as she stood right in front of him. This time, she did not wear her toga, but rather, a lilac silk nightgown and her feet were bare. Her nails were painted black and her purple hair flowed naturally over her shoulders. Her eyes were an unusual amethyst color and although she looked like she was ready to go to bed, her makeup was the same as she wore earlier in the night. "You intrigue me, Monsieur Chaney. That is, if that even is your last name."
"H-How do you . . . ," he was about to say, but cut himself off to not give away the lie in case she was testing him.
"I know you better than anyone," she said with a smirk before putting a hand on his masked face. "You're claiming this was an accident, but it was from birth, oui?"
Erik pulled back suddenly in fear. Was she a demon of his past coming back to haunt him? "H-Have we met before?"
"We met for the first time at the ball, but your eyes give away a lot about you," she said with a wink, but her right eye turned emerald green. She noticed his shocked expression and chuckled. "Believe it or not, I have the ability to see the desires and memories of a person as long as I look in their eyes and you, my dear Erik, have a very intriguing past."
"B-But that's impossible. Y-You're just good at cold readings."
"Oh really? Ask me anything."
Erik thought about it long and hard, but asked, "If you're so sure that Chaney is not my surname, what is the true one?"
Eris smiled. "You don't have one." Erik's eyes widened. "Your mother, Madeleine I believe, felt so ashamed that she gave birth to such an ugly baby that she couldn't bring herself to give you her surname or your late father's."
"C-Correct," he said, nearly shaking in his legs, but tried to reason with himself. "But this is a dream. You are only a figment of my subconscious; of course you would know this knowledge."
"Most of my visitors say the same thing and I let them believe what they want to believe, but if we were to meet again, I'll prove to you that this is real. Besides, I have a reason for being here," she said as she got close to his face, almost as if she were about to kiss him.
"A-And that would be?" Erik said with a gulp, trying to keep some distance between them.
"I want to give you the happiness you deserve. For decades, you've been suffering, traveling from place to place to run away from your mistakes. Even when you have a moment to build up the world the way you want it, do you ever feel any joy?"
"I . . . I couldn't afford it. If I let my guard down, I would be careless and that's when misfortune strikes."
"Right, but I want to show you that you can earn true happiness and keep it."
"What can you do?" he said with a puzzled look. Eris didn't say anything, but walked away from him and pulled back a curtain, revealing a poorly-lit hallway.
Erik was hesitant, but Eris gestured him to go in. "I promise you no harm. In fact, I only want to give you pleasure."
Weary by her words, he was slow to enter, but once he did, the curtain behind him draped over and the entryway back completely disappeared, almost like a wall took its place. With nowhere else to go, he decided to walk down the hallway, putting a hand on the wall to make sure he didn't bump into it. After a bit of walking, he finally saw a yellow light and walked briskly towards it. When he arrived, he noticed a quaint room that was decorated with expensive furniture, including a grand piano and paintings of various people familiar and not. He turned around and noticed the dark hallway was no longer there, but replaced by an entryway to a similar looking room. The walls were red and most of the trimming was in gold. The curtains, matching the wall, were drawn back and tied with a gold cord, revealing the night sky on the other side of the window. The moon was full and the light shined on a garden of red roses and perfectly pruned hedges.
"You need to get dressed, darling. We'll be late to the opera," a feminine voice said before behind him. Hearing her voice made his heart stop as he slowly turned around to confirm who it was.
"Ch-Christine?" he said as the woman of his dreams stood in front of him, looking as beautiful as ever. She wore an elegant blue ball gown with matching elbow-length gloves. Her hair was in a complicated bun with some strands resting over her shoulders and her makeup was perfectly painted.
"Is something wrong? Are you not feeling well?" she asked sweetly as she walked toward him and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. Feeling her touch almost made him want to melt into her arms.
"I-I'm all right. I-I'll get ready," he said, finding it hard to believe what was in front of him.
With a smile, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "I laid out your clothes for you in the other room. You don't have much time to—." However, he suddenly hugged her tightly, keeping back any tears he had building inside of him. He never thought he would be able to feel her warmth again. He never thought she would ever let him this close to him, much less touch her. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?" she said weakly as she pulled back to look at his face.
"Never better," he said, his voice breaking just a little.
"M-Maybe we don't need to go after all. I'm sure someone would appreciate the extra seats at a sold-out show," Christine said as she walked away from him to take off her jewelry.
"This is the life you wanted, correct?" Eris' voice said in a whisper, as if she was standing right next to him. He turned to face her, but she was nowhere around, though her voice remained by his ear. "The woman of your dreams is right in front of you. Why do you hesitate?"
"Because this is a dream; none of this is real," he answered.
"What's not real?" Christine asked as she turned to him. All of her hair hung over her shoulders and her gloves were removed, leaving her soft hands.
He blinked before saying, "Nothing . . . I mean, it's nothing. I was just thinking out loud."
"Perhaps you've been overworking yourself. You've been in your study for hours working on your next masterpiece. I try to be a good wife and give you your privacy, but maybe I should be more attentive."
Wife? Is that what she said? "No, it's all right. Yes, I do believe we should stay in and rest, but none of this is your fault. You are perfect as you are."
She smiled and gave him a kiss on the lips, startling him again, but he tried to hold back the shock so as not to worry her. "If you insist. I'll change into something more comfortable then. Do you mind?" she asked as she turned her back to him so he could help her out of her dress. He gulped before carefully unbuttoning it, trying to hold back any impulse he had.
However, about halfway through, he felt her shiver a bit when he accidentally touched her bare back. "Everything all right?"
"Yes. Y-Your hand is a little cold," she said innocently. He then continued to unbutton until it was completely loose and she could remove it easily. "Thank you," she said as she left the room to change. He let out a sigh of relief, but the torment did not end.
"This could have been all yours, but that foolish vicomte took it all away from you. He is living the life that you deserved," Eris whispered.
"Deserved?" he asked as he looked around for her with no luck. "You really think I deserved this?
"Of course. Without your help, she may have never been able to reach the success she has garnered over the years. All that foppish boy ever did was win her heart and sponsor her career after gaining popularity. You were there from the very beginning, supporting her dreams along the way."
"But I don't deserve anything. In the end, she chose him. I have learned to accept that. He can provide her things that I never could. What could I give her? A life in darkness and secrecy? Sure, her career will thrive, but she would have to live with a man who must hide in the shadows."
"Perhaps she would help you out of the shadows like the Ravenswood have."
"But with them, I have to lie."
"True, but Christine knows practically everything about you since she was one of the few people you let into your life."
"Not everything."
"That may be so, but she knows you emotionally the best. She knew when to be understanding of your needs during your rehearsals in person together. She was sensitive when you had your moments of depression and anxiety, even trying to comfort you during those times. There is no better woman for you than her."
"But there is a better man for her and that's the vicomte, as painful as it is to admit."
"Ah yes, the man who only saw her for her success and beauty. How shallow. You saw her for her potential and kindhearted nature. You are the better man, not him. If anything, he deserves pain for stealing her away from you."
"He was protecting the woman he loved from a madman. If the situation was reversed, I would have done the same."
"Who are you talking to?" Christine said as she entered the room. Now, she was wearing a thin white robe that clung to her bosom and hips, almost resembling the one she wore when they first met in person.
Erik had to dart his eyes away for a moment to calm down. "No one. I was just talking to myself."
"I thought I heard you mention Raoul," she said as she walked up to him. "Are you angry at me for running away with him initially?"
"No. In fact, I understand why you did. You were scared and rightfully so."
She looked down to the floor as she said, "I was scared, true, but I was also foolish. I was so naive to think that beauty and wealth were all that mattered. We were childhood sweethearts, but I was so blind to not realize that the person who would truly lift me up and love me for who I am was the person who simply gave me singing lessons."
He lifted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. "You are too hard on yourself. I am not the ideal man in this society, but you aren't the typical Parisian woman. You're kind to everyone, even the less fortunate, and although you have gained success, you haven't forgotten where you came from. These are just the many reasons why I love you."
"Oh, Erik," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I'm so glad I made the right choice in the end."
"Me too," he said as he kissed her back. She pulled away from him and started walking back to the other room. She gave him seductive eyes as she looked back at him, inviting him to follow her.
"Take her," Eris said almost aggressively.
"No. I refuse to cause her any more pain by forcing her to change her life for me."
At his words, Christine walked to the doorway of the room, but her appearance started to change. Her curves were more pronounced, her nails turned black, her skin grew paler, and her thick brown hair turned purple. Essentially, she turned into Eris. "You're no fun, you know that?"
"What do you have to gain by pretending to be her?"
"Not much; just sustenance. You, on the other hand, could have had a good memory to cherish for the rest of your life."
"A false one, you mean."
She sighed in defeat. "It's a shame. I really liked you, but if you are going to pretend to be this moral person, then my sweet words aren't going to persuade you."
"I'm not trying to be a 'moral' person. I've done enough bad in my life to prove that. I'm trying to move on from all this. I've finally found a fresh start and it is going well so far."
"But will it remain once they learn who you are?" Eris said as she walked up to him with crossed arms.
"If I have to lie for the rest of my life, then so be it. I refuse to turn this into another tragedy."
Eris chuckled. "You really are a good man, but compartmentalizing your emotions can only go so far. Eventually, you'll crave companionship and you'll crave the closest person you had to share your life with or perhaps, her substitute, like Martha and Mélanie," she said as she changed her image back to Christine.
"You're wrong. I'll . . . I'll find my own happiness with this family. I vow it."
"Bold words for a man that is followed by tragedy," she said as she turned back to original form. "Let's see if you can keep your word."
The sun slowly entered through Erik's window, forcing him to wake up. He was still not used to sunlight waking him, so he usually kept the curtains closed during the night, but since so much happened last night that left him exhausted, he forgot to. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his back, hearing a couple of pops and cracks. He looked for his mask and quickly put it on before any of the servants walked in to wake him up. The last thing he wanted was to scare them with his deformed face this early in the morning. He got up from the bed and walked toward the dresser to change into his clothes for the day, but on the way, he passed by the fireplace and noticed that the golden apple looked different from last night. It appeared as if a bite was taken out of it, which would be impossible since this thing was made out of seemingly pure gold. He remembered vividly that the apple was whole when Eris gave it to him. Even the inscription changed; it now read "To the fairest". He wanted to ponder it further, but figured the more he did so, the crazier he would become. He just shrugged it off and started changing into his clothes.