Chapter Five

Several days passed. Christine spent one of them in bed by Marie's orders but felt fine, apart from the bruises on her back. One sunny morning Charles took Raoul and Philippe on a tour of the city. Sorelli was resting and Christine was bored. She made her way to the music room and was pleased to find it empty for once. She took down a violin. Her father played better than anyone she knew and had taught her from an early age, although he himself rarely found time to indulge in this frivolity. She began to play a swift folk piece, her eyes darting over the music as she moved the bow and her fingers flew into place.

Music was more than playing notes. It took everything you had, body and mind. Complete concentration. You couldn't play a complicated piece like this if you were thinking about something else. It just didn't sound right, not as good as it could be. And it wasn't just moving your hands either. It was the whole body, the way you moved, smoothly, not jerking around. Christine knew just how much effort it took but she was always sure that she could do better.

She moved around the room, playing various instruments until she decided to settle on the piano. Sat at the magnificent instrument, she began to play, reading the music. Her finger hit the wrong key and the music jarred horribly. Christine winced and started again, humming along to the song.

"You were too fast on the eighth bar." Erik's voice sounded from the doorway. Christine glanced at him and he entered the room.

"Good morning to you as well." She said wryly. Erik paused behind her and tapped the bar.

"Play it more slowly next time."

"It's a new piece. I've only just started it." She explained and began to play again. This time she slowed down as told on the bar. It did sound better.

She glanced at Erik. He was standing by the window, looking at the impressive view. She hesitated and said,

"I wanted to ask you something."

"What?"

"A favour really." She said awkwardly and stood beside the piano, one hand on it as if for support. Erik turned to look at her, the sunlight glinting from the white mask. The frozen scowl threatened her, daring for a moment but she persevered.

"Teach me to sing."

His eyebrow lifted a fraction of a centimetre.

"What makes you think that I can?" he asked. Christine shrugged.

"I don't know. But I think you could."

He eyed her, thinking furiously. His first instinct was to refuse without discussion. But he hesitated. For a start, she was royalty and well within her bounds to insist that he teach her. Yet she treated him as a superior, respected him. Second, it was clear that she was musically inclined, although he would reserve judgement until he heard her sing. And third was the fact that she was, in theory, going to marry Raoul and Erik sincerely doubted Raoul would be pleased to discover that he had turned Christine's request down.

She was waiting for an answer, he realised. He lifted a hand to rub his chin thoughtfully.

"Before I decide I'd have to hear you sing." He said. She nodded and he took a seat at the piano.

"Scales." He said, playing lightly. Christine began to sing but he stopped. She did too.

"What?"

"I stopped. Why did you? He demanded. She looked rather affronted.

"Because you stopped playing!"

"I didn't tell you to stop. So don't. Start again." He began to play and she sang. This time when he stopped, she carried on. He nodded, pleased.

"Good again, an octave higher."

As she sang, Erik listened carefully. The tone was good, the clarity perfect, the breathing slightly unsure and she seemed to have clenched up. He could see her fists were tense. He held up a hand for her to stop.

"Relax. You've tensed up completely."

"I'm nervous."

"Why?"

"Because…" She didn't. He just seemed so intimidating. He considered her for a moment.

"Do you know the song Angel of Music?" He asked.

"Yes."

He launched into the song on the piano. Christine had never seen someone handle a piano so beautifully. He seemed to caress the keys rather than play them. She began to sing, watching his hands run lovingly over the keys.

And Erik listened in amazement.

In truth he hadn't known what to expect. Perhaps a half-decent voice, rather rusty from lack of use, something mediocre, average. What he was hearing was anything but ordinary. The sound coming from Christine was… golden. Rich, clear notes rolling each other, a sea of sweet sound, beauteous waves crashing over each other in perfect melody.

The sound faded away and Erik sat perfectly still, his mind reeling. He could teach her. He could make her sing more beautifully than ever. He knew it was possible. He could take a voice like that and make it the sound of an angel, heaven's song from a mortal throat.

Christine watched him. His face was carefully blank, but she could sense a sort of emotion in his eyes. After a few moments he met her eyes.

"I will teach you for as long as I am here. Two hours every morning, straight after breakfast, longer if I'm not satisfied. If you have anything else to do then it will wait. I expect nothing less than full dedication from you. Understood?"

"Yes."

"From the beginning then." He began to play again.

They carried on playing until well past midday. They only stopped when a servant knocked, reminding them that lunch was ready. Christine put a hand to her mouth in horror.

"I can't believe it's so late! Papa will be furious!"

They went quickly to the dining room, where everyone was already seated. They took their seats apologising.

"Where on earth have you been?" Philippe asked.

"In the music room." Erik said. Christine caught his eye and he nodded. She looked at her father.

"Monsieur Destler is giving me singing lessons."

The silence that met this announcement was a shocked one. Raoul blinked and looked Erik.

"You are?"

"Yes."

"Oh… is she good?" Sorelli asked, with a teasing smile. Christine flushed as Erik paused. He picked up his wine and said, noncommittally,

"She will be."

He would never let them know exactly how impressed he was. Christine would only keep trying, keep on improving if she didn't know that she was already astounding.

"Well, we've nothing planned for this afternoon, although we've got a few members of court for dinner tonight. Why don't you carry on for a while?" Charles suggested. Erik looked at Christine.

"I suppose we should. There are a few rules to go through."

"What rules?" Christine asked as they returned to the music room. Erik closed the door and turned to her.

"You will not be late or miss lessons under any circumstances. You will not sing for anyone other than myself unless I give permission. You will do anything that I tell you to, without hesitation."

Christine stared at him. He stepped closer to her until he stood directly in front of her. Christine looked up at him.

"And you must trust me completely. If you don't do these things, I cannot teach you. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Answer me."

"I understand." She said quietly. Erik looked down at her for a moment and then moved past her to sit at the piano. Christine didn't move, rather stunned. Then she turned and joined him by the piano, standing to his right to read the music over his shoulder.

An hour before dinner Erik said that she could go, although she was rather reluctant. She couldn't have called the day relaxing, but it had certainly been intriguing, and she was eager for her lesson the next day.

Meg helped her into a dinner dress.

"How was your music lesson? You were in there for simply hours!" She said, tying the corset. Christine winced.

"Ow. It was fine. He's a good teacher." She gasped and Meg tied the last lace.

"There, all done." She reached for the dress and pulled it over Christine's head. "I heard Mother saying that Lord Charlton and Lord Hawkins were coming for dinner."

"Oh no. Papa told me there were going to be guests, but he didn't tell me that Lord Hawkins was coming." Christine grumbled.

"I don't know why you dislike him so much. He's always so gentlemanly." Meg commented. Christine sighed, brushing her hair out.

"I don't know why either. He's just so… is slimy very rude?"

"Yes, it is. Although I can understand that impression." Meg giggled, pinning Christine's hair up.

Meg wasn't attending dinner that night so Christine went downstairs alone. Raoul was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her.

"Philippe and Sorelli have gone in but I thought I'd wait for you." He said with a smile. Christine smiled back.

"Thank you. Have you met Lord Charlton and Lord Hawkins?"

"No, you'll have to tell me all about them."

"Lord Charlton is a blustering elderly gentleman who will take command of any conversation you try to have and Lord Hawkins is…" Christine searched for a word other than slimy, "A little too comfortable in company."

Raoul visibly braced himself and offered his arm.

"Once more into the breach, dear friend?" He said.

"Once more indeed." Christine said, putting her hand in the crook of his arm as they entered the dining room.

Charles smiled happily as they entered.

"Ah, gentleman! Here are Prince Raoul and Princess Christine." He said. The two gentlemen turned and Raoul shook their hands.

"A pleasure to meet you both."

"Indeed, your highness." Lord Charlton turned to Christine. "Princess, you look simply charming."

"Thank you, Lord Charlton. How is your dear wife?" Christine asked politely.

"Well enough, well enough. I plan to take her south in the summer months, a change of scenery agrees with her."

Christine smiled and turned to Lord Hawkins. He was in his thirties with dark hair that was slicked down to his skull with thickly applied grease. This effect made his face, which might have been handsome otherwise, rather skeletal and disproportioned. He lifted her hand to his lips.

"Princess Christine." He said with a smile. Christine smiled, if a little weakly. His eyes were slightly bulbous and were fixed on her in a rather unnerving way.

"Lord Hawkins. How are you?"

"Quite well, thank you. You look more beautiful every time I see you."

"Thank you."

She managed to slip her hand out of his and glanced around the room. Her father touched her arm.

"How was your lesson?"

"Intriguing." She smiled. Erik was not in the room, she noticed. But as they sat down for dinner, he appeared. It seemed he had been avoiding talking to company for longer than absolutely necessary. He took a seat beside her, with Raoul on her other side and Lord Hawkins directly opposite. Small salads were placed before them and Charles began to discuss the court with his guests. Christine listened closely. Whilst it might not be the most fascinating subject of all, it was certainly important and she was determined to be able to run things when her time came to take the throne.

They were currently discussing penalties for unregistered market stalls. It was necessary that the court knew what was being sold in the market so that taxes could be taken properly and so they knew that nothing dangerous or illegal was being sold. This had never been much of a problem until three unregistered stalls had arrived in the space of a fortnight. Whilst a penalty had been arranged, they had yet to find a way to monitor all of the stalls, for it was large marketplace.

"The only thing I can think of is having regular patrols but that would prove to be expensive, not to mention unnecessary for the most part." Charles said. Lord Charlton stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"Why not have men assigned to sections of the marketplace? Again, it would be expensive, but not as much so as full patrols."

"But then we'd have to inform each one of the men of whom would be in there section." Lord Hawkins pointed out.

Christine spoke up a little warily.

"You have each stall listed, don't you?"

"Yes, but that's for the whole marketplace." Charles said.

"Well… why not divide the list between the watchmen and have the stall owners sign in at the beginning of the day, marking which plot they're in. And then the men could just see who has signed in that isn't on the list. It would take less time that way and the taxes would be easier to count up. You could just make a total at the end of the day of all the totals from each of the sections." Christine said.

They all stared at her. She felt the heat rise to her face, fully aware that she was in no position to make suggestions. But Lord Charlton looked to her father.

"Would that be possible?"

"I think it would. It would certainly be a lot easier than training full patrols." Charles smiled at his daughter. "I believe we'll make a fine ruler out of you, Christine."

She smiled happily that they had taken her idea seriously. Raoul looked at her, clearly impressed.

"How on earth did you think of that?"

"I don't know. It just made sense." She said, taking a mouthful of lettuce and laying her fork down, swallowing her food. "Men are always making things so much harder than they need be."

"You get that attitude from Marie Giry." Charles commented. Christine smiled.

"She has taught me well."

Lord Hawkins smiled across the table at her.

"That was rather impressive, your highness."

"Thank you, Lord Hawkins." Christine smiled, feeling rather pleased with herself. Her father always tried to make her feel part of the conversation when it came to affairs of state, but she feared that he was the only one to take her seriously in matters like these.

They moved onto the main course and with it the conversation turned to matters in Hirlos. This was an opportunity to exchange information on harvest gathering, taxes and a hundred other things. Lord Charlton and Philippe seemed to be kindred hearts in this and kept the conversation going for the whole of dinner.

After the meal they all retired to the sitting room. Christine wished she could go, the corset was becoming extremely painful and it didn't help that the bruises on her back and chest were being pressed down as well. She shifted uncomfortably on the sofa beside Sorelli. Erik stood by the window, pointedly looking out so no one would speak to him. Raoul was sat, looking rather bored. He caught Christine's and rolled his eyes slightly. She stifled a giggle and lowered her eyes, trying to control herself. Sorelli noticed and smiled, bringing up a mundane subject to give Christine a chance to recover.

Suddenly Sorelli screeched and Lord Hawkins gave a shout as a small brown creature darted from under a chair, yowling. Christine leapt up.

"Ayesha!" She darted after the cat, which had clearly been hiding. The cat fled under a dresser and Christine knelt, holding out her hand to the terrified animal.

"Christine, what on earth is that cat doing in here?" Charles demanded.

"I'm so sorry, Papa. She must have gotten out of my room." Christine said quietly, not wanting to scare Ayesha anymore than was necessary. "Come on, Ayesha. It's alright, come on…"

Tentatively the cat edged forward, rubbing her cheek against Christine's fingers. Christine lifted her gently, softly whispering to her in an attempt to comfort the poor thing.

"Oh, poor Ayesha." She cooed. Charles sighed.

"Christine, she really should be down in the kitchens."

"She was just frightened, Papa. She didn't mean to make a fuss." Christine insisted. "Look, she's already calmed down." She stroked the soft fur of the kitten's head.

Raoul reached out to stroke Ayesha and she began to purr. Christine smiled.

"I'll just take her upstairs."

"Make sure it doesn't happen again, please Christine."

"Of course, Papa. Excuse me." She disappeared, clutching the cat to her chest. Charles sighed, a slight smile on his face.

"I knew it was a bad idea letting her keep that cat."

"She adores her." Sorelli said gently. "And she did rescue her. I think she feels responsible for the Ayesha."

"I know. And it makes her happy." Charles said.

Lord Charlton looked at the clock.

"Dear me, I should be returning home."

"I'll ring for your carriages." Charles said, as Christine returned, now cat-free. Whilst he called the servant, Christine turned to Lord Charlton.

"Please give Lady Charlton my regards."

"Of course, your highness. I hope we will be able to come and dine again soon."

"I'd be delighted." Christine said warmly. She looked to Lord Hawkins who took her hand and raised it to his lips again.

"It has been a pleasure, your highness."

"You must both come again soon." Christine insisted as Lord Hawkins released her hand. Charles nodded.

"Yes. We really should organise some event, it would be pleasant to see the court outside of business occasionally."

"A charming idea." Lord Hawkins said, bowing to the royalty as a servant announced that the carriages were ready.

Once the two lords were gone, Christine sank into a chair and yawned, covering her mouth with one hand. Charles sighed.

"Really, Christine…"

"I'm sorry, Papa. I'm just so tired."

"I think we should all be getting to bed." Sorelli agreed. Christine stood and rubbed at her aching sides. Raoul smiled.

"Corset?" He murmured so no one else could hear. She nodded and pulled a face of intense pain. Raoul smiled and she returned it before saying goodnight.