Erik let a small chuckle escape his lips when he noticed his copy of Machiavelli's The Prince missing from the shelf. It had been three days since he had given Claire permission to borrow a book and already his copy of Oedipus had been taken and returned.
Interesting choice of books, he thought to himself as he slowly paced the room. Not exactly what I would imagine a woman would read. But, then again, he had no idea what women normally read.
Although nothing had changed between them, he had noticed that Claire seemed much happier, humming while she worked as she had upon her arrival. Peeking out of the library window, he could see the tips of the pine trees illuminated by the setting sun, the last rays of light dancing across the leaves which now littered the ground. A little ways from the house, the servants were sitting around a campfire playing cards in the cool September air. Erik quickly noted that Claire was not among them. Pulling the heavy velvet curtain back a little farther, his eyes were drawn immediately to a small flickering light beneath a solitary oak tree that lay across the field. Although he could not see her shape, he knew she was there.
She moved the lantern to the side, allowing Erik to see her small figure leaning against the tree, her shadow stretching across the slope and over the edge until it disappeared from view. Erik was hit by a sudden wave of loneliness. Seeing her sitting there alone tugged at something within him, and he felt a sudden kinship with the girl. After a long while, he decided to go down and speak to her, convincing himself that he was simply bored and that it was not because of his loneliness. As he reached the door the single thought that had plagued his mind for the last three day returned: She touched me!
"What are you reading?"
Claire looked up, startled; she hadn't heard him approach.
"The Prince, by Machiavelli," she answered, turning the book to show him the cover.
He's outside, she thought to herself. I've never seen him outside.
The light of the lantern illuminated his mask and cast the rest of his face into darkness, making it appear as if the mask were simply floating without a body. Claire gave an involuntary shudder, suddenly hoping that Erik had not seen. But Erik's sharp eyes missed nothing.
"Are you cold?" he asked, suppressing the sudden pain that had arisen within him. He knew the true reason she had shuddered.
"Oh, um, no, I-"
Ignoring her answer, Erik unclasped his cloak and wrapped it around her in one fluid motion.
"Oh, thank you!" He caught the surprise in her voice as he sat down beside her.
She pulled the cloak tighter around her, letting her hands gently run over the material. It was both smooth and incredibly soft beneath her touch, and she wondered what it was made of. Finishing her paragraph, she closed the book and gently placed it in her lap.
"Have you read it?" she asked, looking up at Erik.
"Yes" he replied.
Her eyes lit up and she shifted her body in order to face him.
"So, what did you think of his theories?"
He blinked, not anticipating the loaded question. Erik knew that he agreed with many of the writer's ideas, and he knew first hand that fear was an extremely powerful and persuasive tool.
When he did not reply right away, Claire answered her own question. "Well, I think that his theory is very true, and probably correct."
Erik stared at her in complete confusion. She saw the look and smiled.
"However, if a ruler were to act in such a manner he would receive obedience, but not love and respect. Even if he did result in improving the economy of the state and its people, they would still not like him."
"Really? Why?" Erik asked, eager to continue the conversation.
"Well because people do enjoy wealth, but money and state organization is not everything. A ruler should be like a father to the people, since he is, in effect, their protector and law maker and has complete control over their well being. He should love them and show them kindness, but not weakness. People need someone to look up to. If he gives the model of a cruel, cold and calculating man then who will the people have to emanate? A society with out love is no society at all, and people become barbaric."
Erik continued to stare at her in fascinated silence.
"Have you ever heard of the sacred band?" she asked.
Erik shook his head.
"Two general from Thebes created it in ancient times. It was made of 300 hundred men." Claire leaned in closer to Erik and whispered, "150 pairs of male lovers."
Claire leaned back again, blushing slightly. "They fought harder than any army had ever fought before, because of their love for their companions. They were they first army to defeat Sparta in a land battle."
Claire's eyes glittered happily in the candlelight.
"So you see, if a Machiavellian ruler were ever attacked by a strong army he would lose, because his men would be fighting out of fear of retribution, not out of love for their leader. And that is why we were so successful during the revolution, repelling the Prussians and all, because we were fighting for France, because we love her."
Taking a deep breath she sat back and gazed at Erik with a satisfied look on her face.
"What?" she asked when she finally noticed the look on Erik's face.
"Did you come up with that theory just now, all on your own?"
Claire's face suddenly turned angry.
"Yes," she snapped. "Why?"
"Because it was quite remarkable."
She looked away, blushing, a smile stretching across her face. Her smile gave him courage and he decided to attempt a debate.
"And yet," he began, "do you not think that the leader's army would be well trained, and devoid of crippling emotions such as fear?"
"You believe that fear is a crippling emotion?"
"Perhaps" he whispered in a sinister tone.
Claire grew more and more excited as they continued their debate, sitting on her heels and motioning frantically in an attempt to express herself. Erik even found himself becoming excited, and for the first time in his life forgot entirely about his mask.
They remained outside long after the sun had set and the moon had risen. Their discussion was stopped at last by a gust of wind blowing out the lantern, which made Claire stop mid-sentence. Darkness closed in around them, and in the silence they realized that they were both breathing heavily. They gazed at each other for a moment before Claire closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. She felt satisfied, having missed such debates since her father died. Erik gasped as he was suddenly struck by her beauty, by the moonlight dancing across her smiling face.
"What?" she asked opening her eyes and glancing around nervously.
While she was looking away, Erik swallowed hard, regaining his composure. He had not meant to gasp out loud.
"Come, we should return to the house," he said huskily.
He stood up and extended a gloved hand to her. Claire grasped it without hesitation, a smile returning to her face. Erik gently pulled her to her feet. Their eyes locked for a moment. Claire saw kindness and joy in his eyes, and something else that she had never seen before, but that was oddly comforting.
"Come," he said, still holding her gaze.
Claire nodded silently, lost in the beauty of his eyes. Finally he turned away and began to lead her back towards the house, turning around to meet her gaze every few feet.
"Oh, wait!" she cried suddenly, letting go of his hand. The mysterious look in Erik's eyes vanished. "The book!"
Running back to the tree, Claire picked up the book. She walked back to where Erik was waiting, his hand still extended toward her.
"Ok, now we can go."
Much to his surprise, Claire placed her hand back in his and allowed him to lead her silently back to the manor.
