Chapter Thirteen

Peter

I watched in silence as the man my sister was to marry told her to go. She refused; I must assume she wanted to remain with him. He locked eyes with me, for a moment my breath caught; they were so much darker than they had been in the basements when we last spoke. They watched me, silently asking me to take her. As if he wanted to see what I would do when faced with this. They asked, (are you willing to forgive, to let it go? For her, will you forgive me for her?) I nodded, and walked over, picked her up, she didn't complain. Her eyes were filled with tears, one hand still stretched to the animal. Once I had gotten her back to the coach she assisted with the others, putting everything in its place while I calmed our horses. All the while I fear that my eyes never left that man, what kind of man was he? To be able to appear out of nowhere, a demon swift in dealing death, only to look at my sister with such worried eyes…

Madam Giry drew me back into the present by getting inside with the others and closing the door. Good, best to go before anything else happens. As I prepared to depart a thought struck me, "Where do you want us to wait for you? You can't get far without a horse…" He looked up at me, his mask shadowed by the clouds. He understood, he knew. That was my offer, attempted trust. Take it or leave it. "…Wait for me around the next bend in the road, I won't be long." His voice was quiet, shaded by exhaustion, and I think appreciation... I nodded and clucked the reins. As we pulled away, I saw him rise and pick a pistol up from the ground, its barrel gleaming in the light of the lightning. The rain seemed to come down harder than before, whipping the wind in my face. We turned the bend in the road, the horse's hoofs sticking slightly in the mud with each step.

I heard the shot ring out, causing the horses to start for a moment before I could make them stop. They pawed the ground, the heat of their breath rising into the air… Erik was true to his word. He slid silently next to me in the front before I even realized he was there. With his quiet directions we soon arrived at the Viscount-de-Changny's estate. To my surprise the Persian and Viscount were waiting for us, their expressions taunt with fear. Erik leapt from my side, joining them on the ground. They listened to what he said, their worry easing when they heard everyone was alright.

So one by one I helped the women from the coach, Diana immediately sprung into Erik's arms. He returned her embrace, his face beyond my sight, his shoulders trembled lightly. Her lips moved and he nodded. Both turned away from the rest of us and went upstairs. "…He won't hurt her, will he." The Persian smiled, "No my friend, never. Relax, I understand, you are a good sibling to worry. Will you come inside?"

Erik

I picked Diana up in my arms once the others were out of sight, just to hold her, at that moment I needed her, just so I could breathe. She kissed my neck. Her warm lips against my throat sent shivers down my spine… my Diana, my… there is mud everywhere! …why did this just occur to me? Think about it, falling+wet dirtgetting all muddy. Not complicated, just miniscule when thinking of other things. "There is a bath in your room with hot water so you can wash… why are you crying? Are you hurt!" Her teary eyes met mine, "How… how did you know I needed you?" I blinked. "Back on the road, how did you know? That terrible feeling, strong enough to make me ignore both Daroga and the viscount.

"I simply had a feeling… your shivering Diana! Come, we can discuss this after you have a warm bath and put on dry clothes." She lay back against me and allowed me to take her to her room and place her on the bed, all the while her breath brushing against my throat. She began to undress; a maid came in to draw the bath for her. And, since my job was done, I left. For modesties sake I couldn't stay with her, even though I wanted to. It was riding me hard now, the need to keep her in my sight, to keep her safe. I returned to my room, tired; and without a desire to see the others again until morning. And into the silence I raise my hand, wait for something to nuzzle it, close my eyes. "…I'm sorry C'esar, so sorry..."

The storm had blown itself out by the next morning, Diana awoke with a feeling of nervousness running through her, this was the last day she would be Diana Grey! And last night was the last night… she sighed, and promised herself that in the future she would find another horse, to heal the hole she had sensed in Erik. To herself she made another promise, that she would not get stage fright speaking the greatest lines of her life. "…best to practice, when in doubt! I do, I do, I do."

The viscount de changny, AKA Roul.

I watched her as she wandered among the flowers, there is defiantly a resemblance between her and Christine… is it any wonder he loves her? I feel a smile spread itself over my face; weddings always bring out the best in me. Her raven hair is darker, her ivy green eyes are not sky blue, but the feeling of happiness and beauty she gives of is exactly the same as my wife's. … I wonder, Is it silly for me to still consider Christine my wife now that she is in heaven? I don't think so. Moreover, if it is, well… than I am a very silly man, and glad of it!

"You are up early Erik." I smile at his stunned silence; he is unable to be around without me knowing he is there. Then he smiles as well. "Well done Roul, well done. It seems I am out of practice." I raise an eyebrow, "Would it kill you to put some faith in my own skills?" He smiles, his eyes gleaming. "…What skills?" I sigh with mild annoyance; I must hope that marriage will curb his sometimes-vicious wit! He seems to read my mind for he laughs and begins to walk away, Diana, who has spotted us by now, waves and disappears inside.

Erik's somewhat puzzled look amuses me. I whisper softly, "It is an old custom, that the groom on the day of the wedding, does not see the bride until they meet at the alter." His eyes narrow with understanding, "Oh… I've never heard of that." I chuckle, "How does it work in Persia?" he seems to think about it for a moment, then give up. "I'm not sure, you would have to ask Daroga." A tap on our shoulders causes us to turn around.

"Well my friends, what are we discussing?" I shake my head, what is it with people who have lived in Persia! Do they all sneak up on people? Or does this only happen to me? "The Viscount was curious about the marriage ceremony of Persia, and now that I think about it… so am I?"

sorry it's a shortie! next chap is longer, promise!