Chapter Fourteen

The house became a home after that.

Those first few weeks, to Erik at least, had always made the house seem so temporary. He had known that eventually they would be found and he had expected that they would have had to leave the house.

But he and Christine had stayed. Thus – the house was their home.

Erik knew that eventually they would have to leave. Christine was still heir to the throne of Rymansia and would have to take that position one day. He dreaded the day that the news would arrive, saying that she must take her place on the throne.

But these thoughts seemed far from Christine's mind. The soldiers had left at dawn the next day and since then she had thrown herself into making the house perfect for them. She had even gone as far as to write to Marie Giry asking for recipes, so she could learn to cook properly. More than once Erik had been served rather suspicious dishes that Christine had frowned down at, usually saying, "It doesn't look quite like Marie's used to…"

And so they lived in simplistic happiness for several months, a life of music and love. It was all Erik had ever wanted from life and Christine was perfectly content.

Some might refer to it as the calm before the storm.

It was a beautiful day as Christine stirred into unwanted consciousness. She didn't open her eyes but reached out to curl up next to Erik. However, he was not there. She opened her eyes and saw him sat in a chair beside the bed with a piece of paper and stub of charcoal. She propped herself up on her elbow, pulling the sheet over her naked form.

"What are you doing?"

"I was trying to draw you, but now you've moved, you wretched girl." He said, lifting an eyebrow. Christine smiled.

"I guess you'll have to give up and come back to bed."

"I suppose I'll have to." He agreed, sliding back between the covers.

Christine wrapped her arms him, laying her cheek against his warm chest. His arms pulled her closer.

"Do you really think I'm wretched?" She asked.

"Yes, you're unbearable." He said lazily, with his eyes closed. Christine smiled and kissed the smooth skin of his chest.

"That's a shame."

"Yes, it is." He cracked open an eye and she grinned devilishly at him.

"Well, if you really think so, I couldn't possibly stay here anymore." She said and made to move away. As she knew he would, Erik pulled her back, kissing her lovingly.

"I forbid you to even think of doing such a thing." He said firmly.

"You forbid me?"

"Yes, as your husband, I forbid you." He smirked. Christine laughed and pressed her face to his.

"I love hearing that!"

"What?"

"That you're my husband. It still doesn't seem real."

Erik looked down at the top of his head. You have no idea… the thought crossed his mind unbidden. Christine lifted her to look at him, her chin on his shoulder.

"What would you like to do today?" She asked. Erik smirked and Christine felt goosebumps rise on her arms. His smirk always did that.

"Nothing that involves getting dressed."

She aimed a playful slap at his head but he caught her wrist and rolled her over so her back was to his chest and he held her their, nuzzling her neck. She laughed.

"Erik!"

"Yes?"

"You're impossible."

"I have no doubt of that." He remarked, burying his face in her wild hair. She smiled and stretched.

"Well, I'm going to get up."

"Why?"

"Because that's what normal people do, Erik. I'll go and make breakfast and- don't pull that face, breakfast was fine yesterday!"

"Lunch and dinner on the other hand, left much to be desired." He mumbled.

Christine scowled and climbed out of bed, pulling on a dressing gown. Erik watched her with that smirk. It took all of her self control not to go back to the bed.

It was just past ten that morning when there was a knock at the front door. Erik and Christine were in the music room, arguing over whether or not the note should be natural or sharp when they heard it and exchanged a curious glance.

No one had ever knocked on their door before. How strange…

They both went out to see who it was. Christine opened the door and blinked as she saw a messenger from Rymansia.

"Yes?"

"Princess Christine." The messenger bowed. "I bring word from the castle. You are needed there immediately."

"Why? What's happened?" Christine said, standing back to let the man in.

"It is the King, your highness. He has been taken seriously ill. Your presence is required at the castle in the event that he should…"

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. Christine was already pulling on her cloak.

The journey seemed to take forever, but in fact took them much less time than it should have done. The horses seemed to be agony as they pulled through the city. Several people stopped to stare at the carriage that went dangerously fast through the streets and when they reached the castle, the gates were flung open immediately.

Christine had leapt from the carriage before it had fully stopped and ran up the steps, Erik by her side. She threw open the front door and a servant shouted,

"She's here! The princess is here!"

Meg came rushing towards her.

"Christine!"

"Meg, where is my father?" Christine asked desperately.

"He is resting." Marie said, coming down the stairs. Christine ignored the gathering servants and went to her old friend.

"I must see him."

"In a moment, Christine." Marie said firmly and glanced at Erik, who stood by the door, feeling somewhat awkward. Christine tugged her sleeve.

"Marie!"

"Christine, your father… he will look very different. The illness has made him deteriorate quickly, he is…"

"Why was I not called sooner?" Christine shouted. Marie tried to speak but Christine couldn't stop.

"Did it not occur to anyone that I might wish to know that my father was dying? How could you have not told me?"

"Because we did not know how serious it was!" Marie snapped.

"You have Firmin! He is a physician, he should know!"

"Christine, you will calm down!"

"I will NOT!" She shrieked but Marie said,

"Your father does not have long left."

"Then I am not going to stand here talking to you when I could be with him!" Christine spat viciously. "Where is he?"

"He is in the Royal Bedchamber."

Before anyone could say a word, Christine was dashing up the stairs. Marie looked to Erik.

"Monsieur Destler, would you like to join her?"

"No. She wants to be alone with him." Erik said quietly. He glanced at the servants who were all whispering. They fell silent at his look. No doubt they were coming up with several rumours about the man that their princess had run off with.

"Come and have something to drink. It must have been a long journey." Marie said, gesturing to the living room. Erik followed her, throwing a glance at the stairs where his wife had disappeared.

Christine knocked softly on the door to her father's room. There was a moment of silence and then the door opened and Firmin's moustached face appeared. He blinked in surprise.

"Your highness!"

"Firmin, I have to see my father."

"Of course. Might I advise you to… to prepare yourself?"

She entered the room. It was dark, the curtains drawn across the windows and soft lamplight came from the bedside table.

"There is nothing more I can do, your highness. We can only make him comfortable." Firmin whispered. Christine nodded, gazing at the figure in the bed.

"Thank you, Firmin. I would like to be alone with him now."

"Of course."

He left and Christine sat in the chair by the bed. Charles was sleeping and she was horrified by the change in him. His healthy face was now skull-like and pale, beads of sweat dotting his brow and his hair was limp and lifeless. Dark rings surrounded his eyes and his breathing was laboured.

Christine saw a bowl of water with a cloth on the bedside table. She moistened the cloth and wiped away the sweat. The feeling of the cool water seemed to arouse Charles from his half-sleep.

"Annette?" He whispered hoarsely. Christine shook her head. He thought that she was her mother.

"No, Papa. It is Christine."

"Christine… oh, my darling child." He murmured. Christine smiled, fighting back tears.

"Yes, Papa. I'm here."

"You didn't need to come, darling…"

"Don't be silly, of course I did. You're not well." Christine said, wiping his brow.

Charles closed his eyes and for a moment Christine thought that he was asleep but he looked at her again.

"Christine… I'm dying."

"…I know." She whispered, a lump in her throat.

"It will be your time to take the throne of Rymansia."

"Yes, Papa."

"But only if you want it." He said and his hand found hers, the skeleton fingers wrapping around hers. "Christine, I want you to be happy."

"I am happy, Papa."

"He makes you happy? Destler…"

"Yes. Yes, Erik makes me happy."

Charles began to cough, horrible racking chokes. He lay breathing harshly and then looked at her.

"Promise me that you will do what makes you happy."

"I will, Papa."

"Promise me."

"I promise." She whispered and a tear rolled down her cheek and as she lowered her head to rest it beside her father's. "Papa, please don't die. I need you! I love you, please don't die…" She sobbed.

He sighed, stroking her hair.

"Christine, my sweet daughter. You are so very much like your mother."

"I wish I had known her."

"She would have adored you more than life itself. She was a very astounding woman." He gave a weak smile at some far-off memory. Christine lifted her hand, clutching his hand gently in both of hers.

He closed his eyes again. Christine continued to wipe his face. For some time they stayed that way. There was no clock in the room and she had no way of telling what time it was. Occasionally Charles would go into another bout of coughing. More often than not, he brought up blood which Christine would quickly wipe away.

After what seemed like the longest amount of time that had ever passed, Charles gave a deep sigh without opening his eyes and whispered,

"Annette…"

And his hand slipped from Christine's onto the bed. Christine drew back, trembling.

"Papa?"

Charles did not stir. His chest had ceased its pattern of rising and falling. Christine swallowed hard and bowed her head, tears falling silently. After a few minutes of silent weeping, she lifted her face and knelt beside the bed, tucking Charles' arms under the covers, straightening his head, smoothing his hair. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, her tears dripping onto his cheeks.

"I love you, Papa." She whispered, before blowing out the lamp.

The servants were ordered to gather in the entrance hall immediately, as well as the royal guard, led by Captain Piangi. Erik stood at the back of the hall with Marie and Meg.

Christine appeared at the top of the stairs. Erik could see that she had been crying but held herself properly, standing straight. She looked down at the gathered servants, who all fell silent. She licked her lips and then said,

"The King… The King is dead."

There was a gasp and everyone began to chatter before becoming silent once more. Christine swallowed hard. A tear slid down her cheek but she did not wipe it away.

"I wish for arrangements for his funeral to be made as soon as possible. I entrust this duty to Marie Giry. Everything else… other arrangements can be decided on tomorrow." She said. Marie bowed her head, looking distinctly pale.

Christine was silent for a moment, more tears falling. She didn't even seem to notice.

"I… I wish to thank you all for helping him in his final hours." She said. "My father was a good man and… and a good king. I will miss him very much."

Her voice broke on these finals words. She took a calming breath and then looked at them once more.

"That is all."

She turned away and then stopped as the servants bustled away, all talking in whispers. Because at the end of the hall, his own eyes filled with tears, was Raoul.

Erik walked slowly up the stairs. When he reached the top, he froze.

Christine was standing at the end of the corridor with none other than Raoul. He watched as the prince put a hand on her shoulder. Christine met Raoul's eyes and said something. Raoul nodded and then caught sight of Erik. Christine looked around and saw her husband.

Erik moved towards her and she went to him.

"Erik… I need to sort things out here."

"I know."

"I'll meet with the court tomorrow and… and try to come up with an arrangement."

"Yes." He didn't feel capable of saying anything helpful.

"Raoul is going to help me. He… he was helping Papa."

Erik glanced at Raoul, who shrugged.

"I was needed here more than I was in Hirlos."

"I see." Erik said, rather at a loss. Christine looked up at him.

"I think we should go and sleep now." She whispered. Erik nodded and then looked at Raoul.

"I'll be there in a moment." He assured her. She disappeared, leaving the two men alone.

Raoul met his eye.

"I know what you're thinking Erik, and it isn't true." He said after a moment. Erik lifted an eyebrow.

"And what might I be thinking?"

"That I'm doing this because I love her." Raoul said. "Because I don't. Not anymore. It's been months, Erik; I don't care for her that way anymore. She is nothing more than a friend to me. As I hope that you still are."

He hadn't seen this coming. Erik blinked and then nodded.

"Of course. I have never ceased being your friend."

"And I'm grateful for that. Goodnight, Erik." Raoul turned and left rather abruptly. Erik watched him go before turning to go to bed.

Christine met with the court the next morning, in Royal building at the centre of Rymansia. She had been there several times before with her father and was extremely nervous. Erik watched her pacing back and forward, trying to fix her hair.

"I don't know what to say, I haven't spoken to anyone of them for nearly five months! And none of them think that I did the right thing by marrying you, so they'll already be unhappy with me for that! And- for God's sake!"

Her hair had fallen out of the bun she was attempting to put it in. Erik sat her down and began to brush her hair for her.

"Christine, my love, you need to calm down." He said gently, tying her hair back. Christine rubbed her face.

"This… Erik, it isn't real. It can't be. We were so happy yesterday morning and now… now Papa is dead and I have to see the court, and everything will have to change." She said. She was tired, Erik saw. Her eyes were ringed by dark shadows and he'd felt her turning restlessly all night.

She looked up at him and smiled weakly.

"Do you mind me leaving you alone?"

"I'm quite sure I'll keep myself occupied, not being five years of age." Erik said dryly and she smiled.

"I'm sorry; you know I'm just-"

"I know." He said, kissing her.

Now Christine walked through the doors into the main courtroom. Every member of court, male and female, rose to their feet as she walked past. She sat, rather nervously, in the seat that her father had used and looked around. Lord Charlton got to his feet.

"Your Highness."

"Lord Charlton." Christine said.

"On behalf of the court, I offer my deepest sympathies for the loss of your father. He was a great man."

"Thank you." Christine replied, smiling briefly.

There were a few murmurs of sympathy before silence fell again. Lord Charlton's air became rather awkward.

"Your Highness… I'm afraid there is a slight problem."

"Regarding what?"

"The throne. You are the rightful heir but…" He paused and picked up a piece of paper. "There is a… well, a hitch."

He was clearly not keen to tell her exactly what this hitch was. Christine shifted slightly.

"What is it, exactly?"

"Well… as you know, you were intended to marry Prince Raoul. If you had, the problem wouldn't exist but-"

"Lord Charlton, with all due respect, would please just spit it out?" Christine said tiredly.

Lord Charlton nodded and said with a resigned tone,

"It is stated in Rymansian law that the King or Queen must be royally wed, or at the very least married to a nobleperson. If they are not, then they cannot take the crown."

Christine stared at him and then fell back in her chair.

"You mean to tell me that I must choose between my husband and my throne?"

"We have checked it thoroughly and it is definite. Unless you renounce Erik Destler as your spouse, you cannot take the throne." Lord Hawkins said, standing. Christine glanced at him and then reached for the paper that Lord Charlton held.

"May I?"

He passed it to her. She scanned it and then closed her eyes in despair. It was true. Christine looked around at the court.

"I will have to consider this."

"Your highness, you are the sole heir to the throne!" Lord Charlton said, aghast. Christine looked at him coldly.

"I said that I will have to consider it. I will call another meeting when I have made my decision."

And with that, she stood and walked out, looking more regal than she had ever done before.

Christine sat in the rocking carriage as it travelled back to the castle, still clutching the law in her hand.

This was so unfair. She couldn't make this decision! How was she to decide between her husband and her birthright? The man she loved and the country she adored? She bit her lip, looking out of the window.

"Erik…" She whispered sorrowfully.

A/N: Sad chapter. I was practically in tears. I hate writing character deaths. Let me know what you think!

Lotsa luv

Katie