The skies had
opened up once again and was letting down all it's fury upon Erik
and Christine. The ground, soaked from the nonstopping rain, was
slick and muddy to the point where Erik had to get off the horse to
help guide it. Christine offered to help, but Erik forbade it.
"We're
near there now." Erik yelled back to her over the winds. She
squinted to see his form; the rain was so hard, she could hardly see
him only four feet away.
She tried to blink back the raindrops
that fell upon her eyelashes, but as soon as she did, more replaced
them, making her eyes heavy and leadened. Never had she seen such a
storm as this.
Thunder and lightning clashed overhead. Christine
shrieked and threw her body against the horse's, wrapping her arm's
around his neck and pressing her head into it's mane.
A few
minutes later, Erik called back again. "Are you still alright up
there, Christine? Still breathing?"
Christine whimpered a reply,
and kept her hold on the horse's neck. Finally, Erik swung up onto
the saddle behind her. Immediately her arms went from the horse's
neck to around Erik's middle, hiding her head under his cape once
again. Now was when she felt safe.
"Christine, I need you to
sit up now. You need to be in front of my mask." Erik said as they
approached the clearing that made the small village in front of them
visible. Reluctantly, she removed the cape from her head and sat up.
Since she could no longer hold onto him, his arms came around her to
keep her on and to steer the horse at the same time. Trotting now on
the still slick cobble streets, Erik's keen eyes searched each
house until he found the right one.
"Here we are. I could never
forget this house." Erik said in an odd tone. Christine followed
his gaze. It went up to the second floor balcony, where a large piece
of wall was missing. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his mind.
"Shall we, my dear?" He asked in a soft, sorrowful whisper.
She nodded, and walked slowly in front of him as he once again leaned
on her. Taking a deep breath, she waited by the door with him,
wondering what new things she would learn of his past here.
"Just
because we are here, don't get your heart set on a warm bath and a
soft bed tonight. I told you before - if Giovanni slams the door on
me, I'll walk away without an ounce of blame towards him. Do not
raise your hopes; I fear this will not go well."
Christine
nodded, but said nothing. On any other occasion, her inquisitive side
would have taken over and have asked why this was, but, as she was
beginning to realize, some things she would do best in not knowing,
even though she did know that she'd have to find out sooner or
later.
The door opened at this, and a servant dressed in grey
stood before them.
"May I help you?" She asked in a crisp
manor.
"We are here to see Giovanni."
"And your
name?"
"Erik."
"And your last name?" She asked as if
annoyed.
"He does not know my last name."
"Look,
Monsieur, Giovanni is very busy right now. Perhaps if you came
back-"
"I must see him - now."
The servant sighed and
retreated into the house.
Christine looked up at him, perplexed.
When he saw this, he let out a small, nervous laugh.
"Destler."
He said lightly. "My last name is Destler."
"...Oh."
Christine said, then, even though she tried to resist, she played
with the idea of whether 'Christine Destler' sounded good or not.
She finally came to the conclusion that it had a nice ring to
it.
Erik shook his head and muttered to himself for the rest of
the time that they waited. Finally, the servant came back.
"Monsieur
Giovanni will see you now."
"Did you tell him who I was?"
Erik asked with a shocked face.
"I did. I told him a Monsieur
Erik and a mademoiselle was here to see him."
"But what did he
say to that?"
"He asked if the gentleman named Erik had a
mask. I told him this was so. He told me to send you in
immediately."
Erik sighed. "Well, I am well over do to confess
my sins I've committed against him. I shall be prepared when he
decides to yell at me through the night."
Christine looked
sorrowful as he took her hand and stepped inside the house, following
the stiff servant.
She led them into a beautiful room. The wood
floors shone beautifully as the red flames from the large fireplace
reflected upon them. A davenport was near the fireplace, as well as a
wooden rocker that faced it. But no man sat upon either of these.
Rather, they found a man that looked a century old in a hardback
chair along the wall, away from the fire and near the windows. His
head was bowed, his eyes closed. Christine wondered if he had fallen
asleep while waiting for him.
"Monsieur, your guests stand to
greet you." The servant said.
The elderly man looked up, his
eyes pale. "Erik? Could that really be you?"
Erik released
Christine's hand and walked quickly to him. On bended knee he knelt
before the man in the chair.
"I am deeply sorry to intrude upon
you, but see, I travel with a woman who is in need of a room. We rode
through heavy storms, and she is soaked to the skin. Had I traveled
alone, I never would have burdened you. I ask that you allow us to
stay for just one night. I ask you this, though I know you have every
right to cast me out of your home the moment you are through with
having your say. I will not blame you if you chose to do so. Yet I
plead that you think of the mademoiselle whom I travel
with."
"Erik...what do you say? Why do you assume I would ever
wish to cast you from my home? I have awaited through many years for
your return. In my younger years, I'd kneel down and pray through
my empty days to see you once more. Now that I am old, I only imagine
it. Could it be that you are finally here to accept my deep
regrets?"
Erik looked stunned, as if someone had knocked all the
air out of him. "Accept your regrets? I am in your wrong, not the
other way. I am here to accept all you anger that you have built for
me over the years. Am I truly wrong to assume you have thought
differently?
Giovanni grinned. "I have awaited a very long time
for you to return; but at least now I really know why. Later we must
discuss this matter that has separated us for so many years. But now
is not the time nor the place. Mademoiselle Bloom, would you take
this beauty that travels with my dear boy up to a room and cater to
her until dinner is served? My boy...welcome home, even if it is only
for a night."
As Christine was led away by a different maid,
this one with long blonde hair that curled down past her hips and
bright green eyes, she looked back at Erik with curiosity sparkling
in her eyes. Never in all the years she knew him had she ever heard a
single soul call him 'my boy.' Who was this man who treated them
so generously, when Erik seemed so sure just minutes ago that he
would shut the door on them?
"Come, Mademoiselle, it is not
far." The maid urged, making Christine keep her thoughts to herself
and to surrender to the woman that was to care for
her.
Christine entered the bathroom once it was void of all servants.
Looking into the bathtub, she saw they had put bubble bath into it
and the water smelled of sweet roses. She anxiously got into the warm
water, feeling as if she'd stay in there for a thousand eternities.
Yet, as she found out, a thousand eternities wasn't so long -
for the bath water soon turned icy and drew her out. Yet when she
reached for her clothes, she found them missing. Hearing someone
walking in the hallway, she quickly opened the door a crack. The
woman that had led her up here was the one that she saw now.
"Excuse
me, but my clothes are gone." Christine said with flushed cheeks.
"Oh, we took them for washing. I have new clothes that you may
borrow for now." She said, handing her an armful of undergarments
and a dress. Christine thanked her, excited now that she'd be
wearing anything but the same two dresses that she had been. Shutting
the door, she laid out each piece of clothing, then admired the
dress.
It was long and white; simple, yet beautiful. The front
bodice was colored a royal blue, which streaked a strip of the skirt
directly below it. Gold ribbon laced up the royal blue pattern of the
bodice, making it quite striking.
Quickly Christine dressed in
it, then admired herself in the full length mirror. Upon opening the
door, she found the same maid standing there in waiting. "I'll
show you to your room now, mademoiselle." She said sweetly, then
started walking down the hallway. Christine looked over the railing,
which overlooked a part of the dining room. There she saw Erik and
Giovanni talking about small things. Since their conversation was
faintly heard by Christine, it was completely blocked out when the
maid started to speak to her.
"So you travel with Monsieur
Erik?" She asked. Christine simply nodded, straining her ears to
hear the two below them.
"You must forgive the maid that
answered the door. She's new, and doesn't know about Monsieur
Erik."
"Know about him? What do you mean?" Christine asked,
forsaking the idea of being able to hear a word of the others.
"Oh...
I suppose you wouldn't know. We've been awaiting the arrival of
Monsieur Erik for many years. We've all been praying that he'd
show before Master Giovanni died. His current condition has worsened,
therefore we have given up. Now..."
"Why? Why wait for him?
I'm afraid I don't know very much about Giovanni...only that Erik
has hurt him badly. Why would you await his arrival?"
The maid
laughed. "Because whatever knowledge Monsieur Erik has told you,
you can forget. He assumed Giovanni hated him, but it was not so.
Instead, when his youngest daughter Luciana died, not only did he
lose one child...but two. Master Giovanni likened Erik as his
son."
"So he has mourned the fact that Erik fled, when Erik
thought he was running away from Giovanni's wrath."
"It's
sad, is it not? So many decades of confusion has passed in pain."
For
the first time, Christine realized they were not moving anymore.
Looking around, she found herself in a beautiful room, with a white
canopy bed in the corner. White lace curtains hung by the window, and
an oval mirror stood above a wooden vanity.
"I must go help
with dinner now. Just make yourself at home. If you like to read,
there are books on the side table that you are welcomed to. Oh, and
my name is Sarah. Call me if you need anything."
Christine
smiled, not used to having anyone wait on her. "Thank you,
Sarah."
She nodded, then left the room. Once she did, Christine
sat on the bed with a sigh. Sarah looked much like Meg, with her long
golden hair. Both were short in stature, and very sweet and soft
spoken. Christine couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever see Meg
again. She tried to stop the tears that were on the verge of falling,
but it was useless. She awaited for dinner with a heavy heart and a
grieving mind.
