Author's notes: All right, lunch talk, here we go! It turned out to be a nice chapter, but beware the cliffhanger! I had to stop it there, because that will make the next chapter all the more dramatic.

Sandra – she will be back, you know, but maybe they will be able to avoid a slip.

Mina – I will finish it, don't worry. I re-planned it, but I will finish it. And don't worry, there will be romance… between who, I'm unsure. Just joking – Le Fop must suffer!

starnat – not yet, she isn't. But she's rather, um, lustful? It always made me laugh when Erik was totally impervious to that.

Enrinye – You're starting to sound like "A čo som slepý?" :) I didn't really bother reading the lyrics, they were too… lyrical. Hey, I like Mozart. Nadir is always curious, you know.

Moonjava - thanks, here you go!

X X X

Chapter XVII

X X X X

Only a day later, Christine sought Nadir out and announced that whenever he wanted to leave, they could. The daroga was glad – not only would they finally progress somewhere, but they would be able to avoid more foolish mistakes. That visit to the harem was far too risky, especially when there was nothing they could do about it.

They met up early the next day near the palace gates. This time, Christine chose to overlook etiquette to make their journey faster – she left the elaborate dresses behind, choosing a much more comfortable riding outfit, consisting of a non-corseted shirt and vest and leather trousers with riding boots. Overall, she looked boyish from afar with her hair tied back in a simple ponytail, with no jewelry visible.

The only person she had alerted to her departure was Raoul, whom after being assured that she was alright and learning who her host would be, agreed to let her go, if she would safely return as soon as possible. As Christine had predicted, he was too busy to accompany her and she didn't bother offering that. She wanted to be able to talk freely.

Neither of the pair spoke much during the entire length of the journey, their primary reason being lack of privacy. Christine wrapped a jacked around herself to shield herself from the heat, as per Nadir's advice. Hot it might have been, but letting her skin get burned was far worse than a little more heat. But the warm climate was really a bit too much for her at times.

Nadir was more tense due to the oncoming debate. Things would be revealed – hopefully for the better – and, with luck, some of their problems would be solved. At last he would learn something about Erik's past and hopefully, it would help him see a larger perspective of events.

His estate was nowhere near as majestic looking as the imperial palace, nor as pompous. It was comfortable, modest and elegant in its own way. Their horses were taken almost immediately by one of the servants and the pair walked to the entrance, only to almost run into a small boy on a wheelchair.

He bore a semblance of his mother far more than of his father, but there still were some similarities between them. the paleness of his pupils showed near-blindness, but the boy remained active and happy, especially when he heard Nadir approaching.

"Father!" Reza called when the servant who had been wheeling the chair brought him closer. Nadir ran ahead of Christine and embraced the boy tightly, with a whispered greeting.

While clearly blind, or almost blind, Reza could hear perfectly and the sound of boots was different than that of the usual footwear of the servants in the house. And, having a knack for sensing presences now, he understood that they had a guest.

"Who is with you, Father? Is it Erik?" the boy asked eagerly.

"No, Reza. Erik is still working on the palace. But he will come see you soon." Nadir said reassuringly, glancing at Christine for a moment. But she didn't really need to speak Arabic to know what they were talking about.

So, it was as she feared. She didn't anticipate the one option that seemed unthinkable. Erik had spoken of her. Or had he? No, he surely wouldn't have. But how else could the Persian had known her name and wanted to speak with her about something? Clearly, he needed some information or wanted to shed some light on things. And logically, the only link between them was that they both knew Erik. That was the only reason she could think of. Her first instinct was to turn and leave. Not only did she have no wish to discuss Erik, but she had silently agreed to put up with the charade and deny any connection to him.

But… perhaps running was the worst thing she could do. She would confirm silent suspicions and it would be very strange if she would simply disappear now, without an explanation or an apology. Besides, it would be good to find out just how much Nadir knew. And… perhaps even she could find out what had been happening, fill in the five years of blank space that lied between the past and the present.

She didn't catch that the Persian had already introduced her to Reza, who seemed to have thought her name was a bit strange. "He asked if your name has anything to do with your religion, Christianity." Nadir noted, fully breaking her train of thought.

"It does." Christine said with a slightly forced smile. Truth to be told, she was getting very sad when she looked at the boy. He couldn't have been over ten and he was already so unfortunate… it was horrible, really, how a sickness could bring a vital and joyful child to such a state. But Reza didn't seem to be bothered the least by the wheelchair.

Christine knelt next to Nadir, who made her some space in front of the wheelchair and she took the boy's hand, stroking it for a moment. Bright for his age and aware that she probably didn't speak his language, Reza pointed at her with his free hand and said her name, then pointed at himself and introduced himself this way. Christine smiled fully now.

"Reza, Christine and I would like to talk a bit." Nadir said kindly, "Have you eaten yet?"

The boy shook his head. "I told them to make a nice meal today, since you were coming home."

"Then make sure that everything is prepared as you ordered." Nadir smiled and gestured to one of the nearby servants, who quickly came to them and wheeled the chair with Reza away, presumably to the kitchen or the dining room, so that the boy could truly make sure everything was as he wanted it to be.

Christine and Nadir stood in silence for a moment, watching the others depart. "I'm very sorry, Monsieur." Christine whispered after a while, hanging her head. "I didn't know."

"You couldn't have known. And please, do call me Nadir. If you could have avoided the etiquette when it came to clothing, then you can surely avoid it in the privacy of my home." The Persian noted, changing the subject quickly. "I hope you didn't mind that I used your first name previously, Mademoiselle. I simply wanted to introduce you to Reza – he isn't that proficient in languages, thus I didn't want him to have problems pronouncing the title."

Christine shook her head. "It is alright. If I may call you Nadir, you must also have the right to use my name. I would be a bad guest if I wouldn't return the civility and I don't wish anyone to defer to me."

"Very well, then. The meals should be prepared within the hour, but I thought it would be better if we would talk a bit before eating. I confess, I am a bit tense and I don't want you to be at unease. Be assured that I simply wish to talk to you."

"If I wouldn't be able to trust the chief of police, there would be no trustworthy man in the country." Christine noted with a smile.

"You seem to have much faith in people."

"Faith is at times all that remains. Even hope can be taken away."

Nadir nodded as they proceeded to a veranda with chairs and a table with a chessboard. There, the pair decided to sit down. Not that they were in the mood to play, but the morning sun had quickly turned into a blazing inferno, thus it was very important to keep out of it as much as possible. The veranda offered shelter and privacy at the same time and one didn't get a claustrophobic feeling when sitting there.

A servant came to offer them some drinks. This part of the estate seemed to be mostly deserted. It appeared that even Persians preferred to hide from the heat at times, so there would probably be no disturbance. Christine took off the jacket she wore and put it on her lap as she sat down while Nadir dismissed the servant. Sighing slightly, he chose to speak at last.

"I won't avoid the subject any longer. I have invited you primarily for the reason that I wished a quiet and peaceful place for a conversation. I must have surprised you when I addressed you as Christine, though we have never met before." After receiving a nod in response, he continued. "I know little about what is going on, I confess, but before I answer whatever questions you may have, I wish to ask you what I didn't have the time to ask back at the palace." He paused again, as if summoning the will to say it. "Christine… do you by any chance know Erik?"

The woman almost flinched when she heard that. Fortunately, after encountering Reza, she had caught the name in the conversation, so she could prepare herself for this unlikely possibility. There was an internal conflict in her – one part of her urged that she was supposed to be in the role of a future Vicomtesse with a clear past, not a future Vicomtesse with major skeletons in her closet, especially when considering Erik's current status. The other part reminded her that she had a unique opportunity to find out things… but she didn't know just how much the Persian knew, or why he was asking this.

She frowned. "Erik? You mean that court magician the shah seems to be very fond of?" The rational part of her won. Christine shook her head. "Perhaps I have known people with that name in the past, but I am unfamiliar with that man." It wasn't a complete lie. It was the truth, actually. She didn't know Erik anymore. And she wasn't sure she wanted to know him anymore.

"Christine," Nadir sighed, "I don't know what has happened between the two of you, but I must insist that you tell me the truth. For all our sakes."

"Are you accusing me of lying to you?" Christine inquired, hoping that she appeared shocked enough. She was a terrible liar, she knew, even the girls at the conservatoire often told her that she was incapable of lies without an immediate confession of what she had done. This time, she needed to act it out properly. It was easy, she had heard. Not for her. "What reason would I have for that, pray tell?"

"I cannot know that. Unfortunately for me, I am inept when it comes to prying out things from Erik. I had hoped you would be more reasonable. The fact remains that I wouldn't have found a portrait of you among his papers if you had no connection to him." Christine felt a blush creep to her cheeks. "I heard him mention your name only once, the night of his last performance in Russia, before we set out for Persia. He sang and when everyone left, I believe I heard a whisper of your name."

Christine's gaze dropped to her boots. She had tortured him! She didn't realize it, the stupid child she was! All she had cared about was herself… how could she expect forgetting, forgiveness, even? She should have never let him go, or at least she should have gone with him! The insanity of the thought struck her. A little girl, traveling through the world with no money to spare? Erik might have been able to take care of himself, but she was too afraid of having no place to go, no nothing. She would have ended up on the street, or worse!

But still she had tortured him. The memory of her and now the foolishness of her engagement to Raoul… then again, how was she supposed to know that she would run into Erik in the strangest of places, where she would never in a million years had expected to find him!

She was guilty. Stupid, foolish, cowardly, naïve little Christine, her mind screamed at her. All this could have been prevented if she would have… would have done… something… anything… it could still be fixed! But that would mean breaking up the carefully constructed plan they had created before entering Persia. She would cause trouble for more than one person – she could make two countries enemies, if she would act rashly now.

There was no getting out of the circle of torment, certainly not while trapped in the palace. And… after all that she had done, it was blatantly obvious that Erik wouldn't even listen to her, let alone forgive her or anything like that. A portrait – what value did a portrait have? It had probably been sketched to honor a memory and now would be ripped to shreds. She had ruined everything… there would be no going back to what might have been…

But she could still save them all. The Chagnys would finish their business, Erik would forget her… and she would return to Paris and try to wipe out the singing from her mind. She would never succeed – the past five years of trying had no effect. Yet there was no other way.

"Your friend must be quite the artist, then." she whispered, "Nadir, please forget what you saw. Even if it was me, it was probably just a test of his skills, there must be dozens of other pictures there, equally well done…"

"Even if there are, none of them is stored with such care." the Persian persisted, "Christine, when I asked who the woman – you – was, he said that it was an angel." Christine winced slightly. "Please, answer me. You must know him."

She shook her head forcibly. "I don't. Not anymore." Her limited ability to lie was diminishing very quickly.

"Did you know him, then?"

"As he would say, the past is in the past." Christine said, dismissing the question. "I know nothing more than you do – I know that he is a genius in many fields, that his voice puts all the angels to shame and that he has been forced to live a terrible life due to his face, which is considered a horror by many. Of his past, I know nothing."

Nadir was about to ask another question, but Christine decided that if they would talk any further, she would probably be inept to lie anymore or at least wave off the all too accurate questions. Something told her that the Persian meant well, but it was truly not in anyone's best interest for her to reveal these things.

"I cannot give you the answers you seek." Defeated for the moment, Nadir nodded.