So the prize goes to QUIET2885 who guessed first that MANSART was the last name of the priest who gave Erik his namesake when his own mother wouldn't in Susan Kay's novel.

Well done! Many of you got it as well, but QUIET was the first!

I always thought that Erik should have taken the priest's full name instead of his mother's last name.

The woman didn't deserve to have her surname live on with Erik.

Okay, down from my soapbox and on with the show!

-Nico

It seemed that Athena was less interested in Erik's endeavors outside their home than he expected her to be.

As he walked past the home's enormous library, Athena barely looked up at him from her seat as she sipped tea with a female friend Erik was not familiar with.

"Are you going somewhere, Erik?" Athena called disinterestedly just as he passed the doorframe.

Erik backed up, looking at the harsh lines on his wife's face. "I'm needed at the Opera," he said simply.

"When will you return?" She asked, sipping her tea delicately.

"I don't know," Erik replied truthfully.

Athena nodded.

And with that, he walked out of his mansion.

"You should keep a shorter leash on him, Athena. There are hundreds of women simply dying for a chance with the beautiful Erik Mansart."

Rebecca Devry stirred her tea delicately and took a sip, peeking at her friend over the rim of the cup.

Athena turned her head slowly. "Really, Rebecca. Don't make me sick."

"It's true, Nina," Rebecca insisted. "You should hear some of the women talk about him."

"So let them have him," Athena said, rising demurely from her seat. "They'll soon realize that beauty is the only good attribute he possesses."

"Oh Nina," Rebecca smiled knowingly. "Don't pretend you don't still secretly burn for him."

"Becca!" Athena admonished. "Please!"

Rebecca rose and stood beside Athena. "You can't fool me, Athena Mansart," she said. "I've known you since you were a child."

"And you're just as irritating now as you were then," Athena told her snippily.

Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "He's making a fool of you," she said bluntly. "You allow him to rove the streets like a dog, rutting with any whore he sees."

"Your language is disgusting," Athena said.

"But you know I'm right," Rebecca pointed out. Athena's head dropped a bit. "Poor Nina," Rebecca cooed, placing her arms around Athena's shoulders in an awkward embrace. "Tied to someone she doesn't love forever."

Athena shrugged Rebecca off of her. "I'm not tied to anyone forever," she said bitterly.

Rebecca blinked. "But what about your father?" She asked. "If you break off your marriage to Erik, you lose all your money." The red-headed woman plucked at an invisible piece of lint on her silk dress. "Wasn't that the agreement?"

Athena's face twisted into aggravation. Rebecca was certainly the closest thing Athena had to a friend, yet at times the incredibly rude woman was almost too much to bear.

"Yes," Athena hissed. "I must remain married to Erik in order to keep the fortune."

"How sad," Rebecca said, sitting back down on a plush chair. "Tell me again why your father was so insistent that you marry Erik. It's so tragically dramatic."

Athena looked out a window, her eyes scanning the countryside but not really seeing anything.

"My father knew Erik's mother when they were younger," Athena said, having told the story to Becca countless times. "Before Erik's mother died, she made my father promise to look after Erik." Athena looked back to her friend, who was once again enrapt in the story. "And he did. He sent Erik to the finest schools, provided him financially with everything he needed." Athena's voice drifted. "And then, when the time came for me to marry, Father saw no better situation then for me to take Erik as a husband."

"I wonder why your Father felt such loyalty to Erik's mother," Rebecca mused. Her eyes suddenly went wide. "Do you suppose they were lovers?"

Athena shrugged. "Whatever they were, it has ruined my life."

Rebecca frowned. "Things could always be worse, Athena," she said, actually sounding genuinely kind. Then she laughed. "After all, with the way Erik drinks, how long could he possibly live?"

Athena looked over at Rebecca slowly, here eyes suddenly brightening with the seed of an idea.

"Athena," Rebecca scoffed. "I was joking."

"I know you were, Rebecca," Athena said, once again turning to gaze out the window. "I know you were."

"You're holding the final note too long," Erik said, plunking out the last notes of Christine's aria fiercely. "Listen…it should be short…chopped off…like this…" He plunked the note out three more times.

Christine tried again, this time hitting the last note perfectly.

Erik smiled, brushing his hair from his eyes. "That was it," he said, in awe of the soprano's amazing vocal abilities. "The audience will think they've been serenaded by an angel."

Christine blushed. "Erik," she said. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

Erik held her gaze, allowing his eyes to scan her beautiful face for a moment longer than was appropriate.

"I'm sure that's not true," Erik said, finally looking away.

Christine regarded the mysterious man before her as he began playing the introduction of the aria once more.

As he concentrated on the music, Christine concentrated on him. He was built powerfully…like an athlete but with more grace. He was taller than most men…certainly taller than Raoul…and there was a barely hidden savagery about him that both enticed and frightened Christine.

His hair was clipped just below his ears…slightly too short to be stylish but rebelliously seductive. At the beginning of their lesson, he had been wearing a full three-piece suit, complete with a red silk cravat at his neck. Gradually, his attire became more subdued. The cravat was tossed carelessly aside, along with the constrictive black jacket. The starched white shirt underneath had come undone at the base of his throat, allowing Christine to peek down and see tanned, chiseled muscles.

The music stopped.

"You missed your cue," Erik pointed out. "Twice."

Christine blushed an even deeper shade of red. "I'm sorry," she said. "My mind was…elsewhere."

Erik smiled.

"Perhaps that is enough for today," Erik said, suddenly rising from the piano. "I didn't think it was possible to improve on perfection, but you proved me wrong."

Christine smiled broadly. "You are an amazing teacher, Erik. It's a shame you didn't make a career of it."

"The universe had other things in store for me," he replied, his voice thick and mesmerizing.

"What do you suppose the universe has in store for me, Monsieur?" Christine asked, her voice slightly playful.

Erik noted that she had moved closer to him, and was now so close he could see the flecks of gold within her irises.

"Wonderful things," Erik whispered to her. "Only wonderful things."

Christine looked up at him, wetting her lips subconsciously.

Erik could see it, the lust that suddenly filled her eyes.

"That's good to know," she said softly.

For several moments, they stood in the flickering light from the oil lamps.

"Thank you, Erik," Christine said earnestly, suddenly backing up a step. "I should go now."

Erik nodded, the lump in his throat making it impossible to speak.

He watched as she turned to walk away, stopped, and then turned back.

"Shall we continue this lesson tomorrow?" She asked hopefully.

Erik nodded again. "I shall count the minutes," he said, echoing something Christine had said the night before.

Christine smiled and turned, this time leaving.

Erik sat down on his piano bench.

If he hadn't started playing the piano again, he might have heard his name as it escaped Christine's lips in a breathy, unconscious sigh as she left the Opera Populaire.