Thank you to my readers who are beginning to return to me from Dried-Up Roses…your reviews are welcomed and adored. However…

I am currently on 17 Story Alert lists with Global Desire, and yet I've received reviews from just over half of that. This is not just about my story, but in general; if you put a story on your Alert List, you want to read it and be updated. Authors want to know that you appreciate them, and not just their story, so give a little love. :-)

Enjoy…this is a GREAT chapter by my standards!

NSL Jewelles

Chapter Three – A Little Illumination

Persia 1875

The second we are back in the house, Erik has me up against a wall, kissing me senseless. I squirm against him, alarmed but willing. Erik's tongue plunders my mouth, hot and demanding, and I lock my hands around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

As quickly as it had all begun, it has stopped, and Erik lowers me onto my feet as I see Reza coming towards us. I straighten my skirt out as he walks past, and I think that I can hear him sniggering. Erik's hand finds mine once again. "Come," he says, leading me into the sitting room.

I am barely across the threshold into the room when I stop dead in my tracks, gasping. The sitting room is usually home to a few chairs and a couch, as well as a low table, but tonight…

"Oh, Erik, it's beautiful," I say breathily. The seating and the table have been moved to the back wall of the room, and set out by the window is an ornately carved table and two matching chairs. Upon the table there are two place settings, illuminated by a few candles set in a spectacular candelabra brushed with gold.

I follow Erik like a blind child, dumbfounded as he leads me over to the table and pulls out a chair for me. Once I sit, he sits across from me and sees me staring at him across the table. "Surprised, are we?" he says, trying to hold back a grin that I have rarely seen on him.

"I'm…shocked," I admit, blushing. "I…"

But I am interrupted by Nadir's voice as he comes up by the table. "Good evening, Mademoiselle Daaé, Monsieur Garnier," he says formally, pronouncing the French as best he can and bowing. "We have a wonderful meal set out for you tonight, prepared by the wonderful in-house chef, Reza Khan, and his lovely assistants. To start off the meal, a little wine?" He produces a wine bottle seemingly out of nowhere and proceeds to pour a little into each of two glasses, the red alcohol tinting the clear glass. "I will return shortly. Enjoy," he says, bowing himself out of the room.

Erik takes his wine glass and raises it, and I follow suit. "To you," he states, tilting the glass in my direction.

"To us," I add, touching my glass to his. As we both drink the fruity liquid, I take a chance to just look at Erik from across the table. His white half-mask catches the light of the candles, nearly glowing. I place the glass back on the table and take to looking out the window. It is already dark on this side of the house, the dusty road leading into the town tinged blue with moonlight.

My musings are interrupted by a pretty feminine voice I know as Lakhi's. "Good evening! Some soup?" I see a tray in her hands, two bowls on it, and I nod. Lakhi places the tray on the table and removes the soup bowls, steaming liquid inside, presenting one to each of us at the table. "Enjoy; I will be back shortly."

We eat in silence, every few spoonfuls of soup glancing at the person across the table. I don't mind the quiet; it is not awkward, but soothing. It is in the midst of these thoughts that I drop my spoon, the metal making a sharp noise on the floor. I bend over to retrieve it but Erik is quicker, kneeling beside my chair.

Erik lifts the spoon from the floor and wipes it on a napkin before dipping it into the soup and holding it to my lips. I oblige, taking the cool metal and hot liquid into my mouth. Again he feeds me, but this time a bit drips off as it leaves my mouth. I try to catch it with my upper lip before it rolls off of the bottom one, but Erik is, once again, much faster.

Before the soup droplet can slip from my mouth, Erik has caught my lips with his own, sucking gently on my lower lip. I lean into him, but he pulls away, standing and returning to his seat. I follow him with my eyes as he sits in his chair and replaces his napkin on his lap, lifting his gaze and smiling at me from across the table. All of this, and not a word; as I said, silence can sometimes be a gift.

The meal commences, the soup followed by an exquisite entrée of roasted lamb and vegetables, all in an unusual but nonetheless tasty sauce, presented by Reza, who is surprisingly a wonderful chef. As he takes leave of the room, I see Lalitha waiting timidly by the door, and Reza grabs her by the arm and pulls her away with him. I smile.

"They really are getting to like each other, aren't they?" I mention to Erik as I cut into the lamb on my plate.

"His father is certainly pleased," Erik replies, taking a bite of his own supper. "He hopes that they will eventually be married." The piece of lamb I am chewing seems to lodge in my throat, and I cough on it until it is free.

Swallowing, I say timidly, "Really?" How can he be so calm and collected? Maybe he hasn't thought about marriage, not even considered it. Forcing thoughts from my mind, I continue, "That's wonderful. But what will we do with Lakhi? It is truly unfair that her sister and I have both found for ourselves but not for her."

"You would say that you found me?" he interrupts me, looking up from his meal. "Was it not I who found you?"

"It is a figure of speech," I remind him, concentrating on my food. "I would not dream of saying that this was entirely my doing when it was yours."

"Thank you," he says, hints of sarcasm in his voice as he raises his glass to me and takes a drink. I truly cannot argue against his comment, that he had found me and not I him. Without his devotion to finding me, I would be giving my body to other men for money.

I continue to eat, but the thought of what I had done, and probably would do, in the harem at Sardes brings tears to my eyes, one of them trickling down my cheek. Erik doesn't seem to notice, so I brush it away nonchalantly, trying to avert my thoughts to something else.

Moments later, I sense another presence in the room and turn to see Nadir. "My lord and lady," he says formally, "a little entertainment while you dine." He bows himself out and I see Lakhi walk in with an instrument, a sitar, and sit down on a chair in the middle of the room. She begins to play a subdued by nonetheless fast and upbeat tune.

As she plays, Lalitha and Reza enter hand in hand. Reza takes a seat, while Lalitha bows to us and begins to dance. I had seen her dance many times before during my time at the harem, but I have almost forgotten how talented she is at the art. Bright scarf in hand, she winds her way around the room, twisting and leaping. I suddenly catch Lakhi's eye, and she winks at me, though I do not know what for.

I soon find out; the music she is playing suddenly changes to a slower melody, and Lalitha stops abruptly, staring at her sister. "Lakhi, what're you…" but she is cut off by Reza.

"Dance with me, Lalitha," he says, bowing to her. I cannot help but giggle slightly as Lalitha rolls her eyes, tosses her scarf to her sister, and lets herself be taken in Reza's arms. Turning back to my food, I see Erik staring at me from across the table.

"Is something wrong?" I ask, taking a sip of wine.

"You know perfectly well what is wrong," he states, standing.

"I don't think I do," I reply as he moves around the table to me, taking my hand.

"You are not dancing with me," Erik continues, pulling me up from my chair and into his arms, but I push away.

"Just a moment," I assure Erik, walking over to where Lakhi sits and plays. "Lakhi?"

"Christine," she says softly, "dance with him. For me." I look into her face and can't help but see the subtle sadness.

"Lakhi, you're the only one here with no one to be with; I am worried for you." Though she continues to play, I can see that she is choking up. "Lakhi, tell me you're all right."

"I am fine, Christine," she says, though her voice is muffled. "I was just thinking of…oh, never mind."

"What?" I inquire, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Lakhi, please tell me." Lakhi does not answer immediately, keeping up with the music.

Finally, she responds. "Christine, stay with us tonight? My sister and I can talk to you then."

I nod and stand up, ready to walk back to Erik, when I pause and say to her, "You're very talented." As I return to Erik, I see Lakhi watching me, smiling gently.

Later…

Closing the door behind me, I walk to my bed in Lalitha and Lakhi's room and sit upon the mattress, waiting for them to return from the washroom. What could they possibly have to tell me in private? Certainly nothing is wrong…

My thoughts are cut short as the door opens and the two sisters walk in, shutting it once again. I shift over and they sit on the bed beside me, looking at one another questioningly. I break the silence. "What's wrong? What is it that you have to tell me?"

"Well," Lakhi starts, but her sister stops her.

"Let me start," Lalitha says, and Lakhi nods. "It was so long ago; I can barely remember how it began. We were young, maybe twelve and fourteen, when we first went to the sea. It was a long, hard journey, of course, but we made it, the two of us, our brother Mohammed, who was younger, and our parents. It was such a sight, the endless miles of water and waves.

"Only being there for a week, the two of us set to exploring with Mohammed, winding our way along the seashore, seeking adventure, finding it in spots all along the coast."

Lakhi interrupts, "I'll continue. It was on our last day by the sea when Mohammed decided that he wanted to see some of the sea creatures. We asked permission of our parents, of course, and went down to one of the coves along the shore where there was sure to be some wildlife. Upon reaching the cove, Mohammed jumped in, splashing and playing.

"We watched him play in the water with the fish for what seemed like hours, talking in short stints. It started to get dark, so we told Mohammed to get out of the water, which he did, but as he stepped up onto the shore, he tripped and fell back in."

"I panicked," Lalitha says. "I was the oldest and it was my job to protect both Lakhi and Mohammed, but I froze up, just shrieking. Lakhi ran back to the water to try and help him out, but he hadn't resurfaced yet."

"But then…it must've been some miracle by which it happened. A young man, probably a year or two Lalitha's elder, must've heard her shouts and came running. He saw me kneeling over the water and must have known that something was wrong, because he dove right in after whatever he thought it was. And when he came up with Mohammed in his arms…" Lakhi trails off.

"I immediately got him home to our parents and left Lakhi to thank the man. I needed to be away from that cove; I felt like it was the one place where I'd failed as the oldest child and guardian of my siblings." Lakhi places a tender hand on Lalitha's shoulder, and I just watch, taking it all in.

"The man told me his name was Abraham, and that he worked with his father fishing on the ocean," Lakhi relays. "He said how he'd seen us walk to the cove earlier, and when he heard Lalitha's cries and came to the sound, he knew it must've been the little boy. After he told me, he offered to walk me home since it was darker still, and I let him, telling him my name and how thankful we really were."

"When she came into the house," Lalitha says, starting to laugh, "I could see it in her eyes. She was madly in…"

"Stop!" Lakhi says, playfully whacking her sister on the arm, but Lalitha continues to chuckle. "I guess I was infatuated with Abraham from the moment he saved Mohammed's life, but I was twelve and he was at least seventeen; what man that age would love a girl like me back?" I keep quiet, trying to avoid thinking how like my own romance with Raoul Lakhi's story is. Raoul… I force images of my dead husband's face from my mind, concentrating on Lakhi.

"But he did," Lalitha says. "We were leaving the following morning and he saw us preparing to go. He came up to her as we were getting into our father's cart and gave her a beautiful flower, telling her to come back some day."

"We did," Lakhi adds, blushing, "just the next year. I don't think he recognized me when I went down to the docks where I knew his father's boat was; I had grown up so much in that year. But I'd kept the flower, dried it and stowed it away, so when I showed it to him he knew it was me, the little girl whose brother he'd saved but a year before."

"You were simply lovesick the whole week," Lalitha laughs, poking fun at Lakhi, "but he was so nice and our parents loved him. But then…" Lalitha trails off.

"But then what?" I inquire, fearing what they'll tell me.

Lalitha opens her mouth to speak, but Lakhi says first, "I can tell. The two of us were walking around the little fishing town right by the shore when he first kissed me. It was my first…and his last. But minutes after, when we were on one of the main streets, some other young men pushed him away from me. I found out later that they were the sons of rival fishermen to Abraham's father, but it didn't matter then. They began abusing him, kicking him and punching wildly. I couldn't do anything; what was a girl of thirteen to do against men of near twenty?

"They finally let up and ran off, and I hurried to Abraham, but there…there wasn't anything I-I-I c-could've d-done," she stutters, tears welling up in her eyes. "He was so hurt and I-I couldn't d-d-drag him anywhere. There wasn't anyone around and he c-c-couldn't t-talk at all, so I-I w-watched him bleed t-to death." Lalitha takes her sister in her arms and holds her against her chest.

"Ever since then it's been hard," Lalitha states quietly. "I had my fair share of romances, but Lakhi would never go out, would simply settle for being happy for me. When we were eighteen and sixteen, a good three years after what happened to Abraham, a huge fire destroyed our house. It took not only our house, but our parents and Mohammed too."

"He was my last memory of Abraham," Lakhi admits. "Mohammed was what brought us together and when he was gone there was no reminder."

"What of the flower?" I ask of the gift Lakhi had been given.

Lalitha bursts out laughing. "Oh, Abraham took that." Lakhi's eyes go wide and she practically assaults her sister. "Stop! I'm only telling her the truth!" I bring Lakhi towards me, holding her like her sister had been. "The one he'd given to her when we left the first year, you mean?" I nod.

"It was lost in the fire too," Lakhi says, sniffling.

"What happened after the fire?" Asking so many questions makes me feel slightly bad, for I am seemingly dragging out a subject I would not wish to talk about if I were Lakhi. Of course, you wouldn't want to talk about it! You're not talking about Raoul.

"There was nowhere for us to go, really," Lalitha says, "so we just started walking."

"That's where Indira found us," Lakhi continues, "just like she found you."

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