"Erik! Erik! Erik, guess what?"
Erik looked up from the designs he was working on as he heard his wife's excited shouts. A few seconds later Paris burst into the music room where Erik had set up a drafting table for his work on the new church. Her cheeks were red, her hair was mussed and her eyes were bright. Erik had only a second to admire how beautiful his wife looked before she launched herself at him and began to smother him with kisses.
"I got a job! I'm going to be giving piano lessons to some of the villagers! And Father Michaels asked if I would consider playing the church organ since you were so adamant against playing it. I told him I would be glad to. Isn't that wonderful?" Paris said through her kisses. Erik just laughed and said it was.
"You now have something to keep yourself occupied with. You were getting rather restless here."
"I have to write to Christine and tell her the wonderful news. She was convinced that I wouldn't be able to do anything if it didn't involve dancing."
Erik just smiled and kissed his wife happily. They had been married for almost a month now and ever since Erik had begun working on the plans for the new church Paris had been restless. She could never sit still and Erik had a feeling she was just bored. She had always been busy and she had always had her dancing. Now it looked as if she would have something to keep her occupied.
Erik watched as his wife scurried out of the room to go write a letter to Christine. He shook his head with an amused sigh and returned to the drawings on the desk in front of him. He frowned in annoyance when one of the walls came out crooked and he had to erase it and redo it. Composing music was a lot easier, he concluded with a sigh. After another attempt to correct the wall failed Erik growled in frustration and threw his pencil down before stomping out of the room. He needed a break.
Paris was sitting in the parlor working on her needlepoint when Erik entered. She looked up at him with a smile before returning to her work. Erik made his way over to her and sat down next to her.
"Is something wrong?" she asked looking up at him with concern.
"No, I just needed a break. One of the walls isn't coming out right and I was getting frustrated with it. Why don't we go for a walk? It's a nice evening and we haven't walked through the woods in a while."
Paris glanced over at the clock that sat upon the mantle before she put her sewing away. "That sounds like fun. Let me just grab my shawl and we can go."
Erik rose and followed Paris out into the foyer. He waited for her to go upstairs to get her shawl. He ran a hand through his hair and then readjusted the ribbon that held his hair back. A minute later Paris came down the stairs and joined her husband at the foot of the stairs.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Ouí, let's go," Paris smiled.
They went out the back door that opened up into the woods. The sun was setting and the weather was cool for July. The sky was clear and the stars were just starting to appear in the pink and orange sky. Paris grinned as she caught sight of fireflies glowing in the trees. She looked up at Erik to see if he saw them and laughed when he grinned down at her to indicate that he had. Slipping her arm free of his she darted out into the woods and began to chase the fireflies. Erik watched with an amused smile as his wife flitted about like a child. His smiled turned wistful when she caught one and gave a squeal of delight. He wondered if Paris ever wished for children. Erik had never really thought about it much but now as he watched his wife behaving like a child he found himself wishing for a daughter just like her.
"Look at it Erik, isn't it the cutest thing you've ever seen?" Paris stage whispered as she held out her cupped hands to show him the firefly caught inside them.
"Well, it is cute but I've seen cuter," Erik said with a wink.
"Been looking in the mirror again?" Paris teased.
"Only if I was looking at your reflection."
Paris laughed and let the firefly go. They stood watching it fly away for a moment before they continued their walk. Erik was tempted to ask Paris about her thoughts on children but she looked so content he didn't want to ruin the moment by speaking about such a serious topic.
"We should have a picnic one day. We could have one right out here or even by the stream we found the last time we were here," Paris spoke up softly.
"Hmm, that would be nice," Erik answered just as softly.
"I think my voice enchanted Father Michaels today," Paris said, her voice serious.
"Why do you think that?" Erik frowned.
"Well, when we met today he kept asking why you didn't want to play the organ for the church. I kept telling him that I didn't know until I finally just looked at him and said 'Father Michaels, my husband does not want to play the church organ for Mass so please stop talking about it.' And he did. He just froze and stared at me the whole time with a glazed look upon his face. It was the same look I always got whenever my voice enchanted someone. He didn't even know what he had been talking about when he finally came to. I felt so bad that I told him that he hadn't been talking to me but that I had just stopped by and he looked out of it so I had asked if he was okay. He believed me and then asked if I knew how to play the piano or the pipe organ. That's when he offered me the job as the church organist.
"I feel so bad for what my voice does. I know it's gotten better. Not so many people are affected by it so much but some are and I'm worried that I'll say something terrible one day causing a problem. I'm worried about the children I'll be teaching. They will be more susceptible to my voice and I don't want to cause any unintentional harm to any of them," Paris' voice thickened with tears as she sank down onto a fallen log, her posture dejected.
"I'm afraid I don't know what to say, Paris. I know my voice has had similar results as yours but never to the extreme has yours had. However, if children are more susceptible to your voice then they'll follow your instructions correctly. As long as you don't say something that could cause problems then there should be no problems. Encouragement will work the best for them for your voice will give them the confidence they need. I think you'll find that in this situation your voice is a blessing rather than a curse when it comes to the enchantment," Erik said as he attempted to reassure Paris. "I believe that now that you are older and your voice is more matured the enchantment isn't as strong as it was when you were little. You can control it more."
"Do you really think so?" Paris sniffed as she turned her tear bright eyes up to him.
"I do," Erik smiled softly before leaning over and capturing her lips in a soft kiss.
"Thank you, that means so much to me. I've just been so happy that I completely forgot about the affect of my voice on people. It doesn't help that you aren't affected so I'm not constantly reminded of it. However, I will have to be careful what I say from now on otherwise I might lose my jobs."
Erik was silent as he held Paris tightly against his side. He rested his cheek upon the top of her head and together they sat staring at the darkened woods and watched the fireflies light up. After a while Erik decided that they had best head back to the house. It was getting late and they still hadn't had dinner.
"Come on, we better head back. I don't know about you but I'm getting hungry," Erik smiled as he roused the woman next to him.
"Hmm, yeah," Paris mumbled as she sat up with a yawn.
Erik chuckled softly and helped Paris stand up. Then, slipping her arm through his he led her back through the woods towards the house.
Paris woke the next morning and just lay in bed staring out the window for a moment. Today she would teach her first students piano. Two little girls would be coming over around one. After last night Paris still worried that her voice would hold some strange power over the children. Erik had promised her that he would stay in the house just in case she needed him and that made Paris feel slightly better. Glancing over her shoulder she gave a small smile as she watched her husband sleep. He was on his back with one hand flung over his eyes while the other rested upon his flat stomach.
Rolling over Paris propped her head up on her hand and traced her other hand over his ribs. Glancing up at his face Paris suppressed a giggled when she saw Erik's lips twitch unconsciously in reaction towards her slight tickling. She decided to be bolder and so she traced her fingers down towards his navel. Before she had time to react she found herself being flung upon her back with a large body rising above her.
"You were disturbing my sleep, Madame," Erik growled playfully.
Paris glanced over at the bedside clock and then returned her gaze up to her husband's. "Its 9:32, time to get up. Tsk, tsk sleeping in Erik, you have become so lazy in married life," Paris tsked with a sigh of disappointment.
"When you demand nights like last night I believe I'm entitled to a couple of extra hours of sleep. You stole some of mine with your demands," Erik shot back as he lowered his head and kissed her neck.
"You seemed rather demanding yourself, Monsieur, so don't put all the blame on me," Paris pointed out as she raised her head and nipped Erik's earlobe. Erik shivered at the sensation and pulled back to look down at his wife again.
"I still demand my hours of sleep even if you don't seem to need them."
Paris just laughed and pulled Erik down for another kiss before she shoved his body to the side and climbed out. She walked over to the foot of the bed and pulled on her nightgown and robe before turning to face Erik. He lay on his side with the sheet draped over the lower half of his body. He was watching her with an amused smile.
"I'm not bringing breakfast up here today. You'll have to come downstairs and get it, not that you deserve any after what you just did," Paris pretended to be angry as she turned and quickly made her way out the door. Erik's laughter followed her all the way down to the kitchen.
Around a quarter to one Paris found herself in the music room nervously making sure everything was all right. She had a plate of cookies cooling in the kitchen for the girls to take home to their mother and she had Erik's easiest sheet music piled near the piano. Now all she needed was her pupils and a miracle that her voice would not enchant them in the wrong way.
"Hey, cookies!" Erik's voice sounded from across the hallway from the kitchen.
"Don't even think about touching those cookies, Monsieur le fantôme! Those are for Mary and Carrie to take home," Paris said as she strode into the kitchen to keep her husband away from the sweets.
"Can't I have just one?" Erik pouted.
"All right, but just one," Paris acceded. Erik grinned and grabbed a cookie before he gave Paris a kiss on the cheek then left the kitchen. Paris had been rather surprised to learn that Erik had a rather serious sweet tooth. She had discovered it long before she and Erik had married. She had baked a bunch of little cakes one day while she had been down in his home during one of Christine's lessons. After Paris had set them out to cool she had gone to take a bath. Upon her return to the kitchen a half hour later nearly half the little cakes had disappeared. Paris had stared at the empty places for nearly a full minute before she had turned around and marched towards the music room where she knew Erik and Christine were practicing.
Paris had pulled out her note pad and written her question upon it before entering the room. Christine had looked up and upon seeing the rather murderous expression on her face had stuttered to a halt in the middle of the song. Erik had turned around confused as to why Christine had stopped singing so suddenly. Paris had seen him go slightly pale when he saw her but other than that he had given no indication that he knew what was wrong. Paris held up her notepad so they could see her question.
"Who ate some of the cakes in the kitchen?"
"You made cakes? Oh, can I have one?" Christine had exclaimed while writing the question down at the same time. Paris knew that as innocent as Christine was that that reaction was not feigned. Paris had nodded to Christine before turning her full attention to Erik.
Paris had watched as Erik had gone a slight shade paler than before and he swallowed quite loudly. Christine was already making a mad dash for the door and Erik had shot her a 'traitor' look before looking anywhere but at Paris.
"You ate nearly half of them!" Paris had written.
"I was just making sure they were edible. You never know with some food ingredients these days," Erik had written back. Paris could see through his lie even without it being spoken out loud.
"You could have just asked for a cake! You shouldn't have eaten that many, they'll make you sick. Why did you eat so many, anyway?" Paris wrote.
"I liked them," Erik had written his expression sheepish.
Paris had read the short answer but it had said everything she had needed to know. Erik was a lover of sweets. From that day on Paris had always made sure to make extra whenever she cooked something sweet. The last thing she had needed was for Erik to consume all the sweets before anyone else even got a chance to try one. She still couldn't believe that Erik had eaten that many cakes. Of course he had paid for it that night but Paris had refused to sympathize for him even when she cleaned out his bed pan repeatedly that night.
Paris was brought out of her daydreams by the sound of someone knocking on the door. Quickly hurrying out of the kitchen Paris smoothed her hair down and straightened her skirts before pausing at the front door. Erik was standing in the library doorway watching her and that was all the encouragement Paris needed to take a deep calming breath and opening the front door.
"Welcome, how are you girls today?" Paris asked with a smile.
"Fine, thank you Ma'am," the two girls answered at the same time. Mary and Carrie Chaucer were twins around the age of ten. Both had faces full of freckles and heads full of frizzy carrot red hair. Their eyes were lime green that always seemed to be laughing. Their mother was Irish but their father was English. Their mother, Isabelle, had wanted her girls to learn the piano but there had never been anyone in the village that was talented enough to teach it. She had told Paris that she was a godsend in her lilting Irish tinted French.
"Well, shall we get started?" Paris smiled.
"Yes Ma'am," the girls smiled back shyly.
"Well, right this way," Paris led the way towards the music room. She caught Erik's wink before he disappeared back into the library.
"Who was that man?" Carrie asked glancing back towards the library.
"That was my husband, Monsieur Desslar. He's working on the new church," Paris answered, her voice showing how proud she was of Erik.
"Oh, remember Mary, Father told us that he was that man from Paris who had agreed to construct the new church?" Carrie cried out, a grin stretching across her freckled face as the three entered the music room.
"I remember, he's the one with the mask on his face…oh, I'm sorry Madame Desslar…I…I," Mary paled and started to apologize. Paris just laughed.
"Don't worry about it Mary, my husband is used to comments like that. Though, I would appreciate it more if you refrained from making any further comments about my husband's mask."
"Of course, Ma'am. Is it true that he's also a wonderful musician?"
"I'd like to think so. I have some of his compositions here but I'm afraid most of them are on the more difficult side and you won't be able to play them just yet," Paris answered with a smile, glad that they were on a safer topic.
"Oh, would you play one for us? Just one before the lesson?" Carrie asked.
Paris looked at the stack of compositions that had her husband's initials labeled in the corners for a moment before smiling and nodding at the twins. While the girls settled down upon the sofa Paris pulled out one of the compositions that Erik had composed with her in mind. It was titled Silent Love and had always been one Paris' favorites. Sitting at the piano Paris did a quick run of the scales before placing her fingers in the correct positions over the keys. The minute she began to play the notes everything around her faded save the music. The notes danced about her in a spiral of emotions that Paris knew Erik had felt as he had composed the piece. Erik always put his whole soul into every piece of music he wrote which made it all the more compelling to listen to and play. The notes slowly faded away as the song came to an end and Paris slowly came down from her euphoria. Opening her eyes she cast a quick glance over towards the two girls who sat spell bound by the music. A movement of black out of the corner of her eye caught Paris' attention. Erik stood there in the shadows.
"Oh, wow, that was absolutely beautiful, Madame Desslar! Did Monsieur Desslar really write that?" Carrie gasped her eyes wide.
Paris ducked her head as her cheeks turned pink under Erik's steady gaze. "Yes," she whispered.
"Wow, I want to learn to play that piece first when I'm ready for it! Do you think I'll be able to play it just like you did?" Carrie asked.
"With lots of practice I'm sure you'll learn to play it better than I did. Now, shall we begin your lessons? After all, I already know how to play and I don't think your mother would be too pleased if you girls didn't learn at least a few scales," Paris said bringing her gaze back to the girls.
"Yes Ma'am," they answered.
"Good, now who wants to go first?"