September 18th 1892: Christine
I had rarely been prouder of my children than when they both touched Erik's face, completely without fear, but full of affection for this wonderful man. Despite the worries that had made my heart heavy before, Antoinette and Philippe had accepted his appearance remarkably quickly. As a matter of fact, they had accepted it more quickly than I myself had done it, more than ten years ago, even though they were still so very young. I had ever right to be proud of them.
After a few minutes, they seemed to have enough and let go of him. They had been able to suppress their tiredness for a while, but now it was taking its toll. The children were stretching their arms into the air, yawning loudly. Cautiously, Erik picked up Philippe and carried him over to his own bed, tucking the blanket in around him.
"Christine, could you fetch me the water jug and two glasses from the table, please?" he then asked.
I complied, wondering what he was up to. After all, the children hadn't said that they were thirsty. I held the glasses in front of Erik, but instead of taking them immediately, he poured a greenish liquid into them out of a small bottle, which he then put into an inside pocket of his coat again. The substance swirled in the water, turning it light green.
"It'll help the children sleep," he explained in a low voice. "They may appear calm now, but no one can tell when the images of what happened today will come to haunt them. I don't want it to happen at night, when they're all alone in the world of their dreams and nightmares. This will keep them from dreaming. They should take it before they sleep for a few days. I'll leave you a larger bottle in the bathroom."
"Where did you get it?" I asked, fascinated. Erik really was prepared for every occasion.
"Oh, I already had it at home," he replied. "It's similar to the one I gave Philippe when we were dissecting the… erm, the bodies. The relaxing effect is just much higher in this one. I take it myself, you know, in a stronger version. Believe me, there are days when I don't want to dream either." Then he turned to the children, ingnoring my sympathetic glance. "Drink this," he said, taking the glasses from me at last and handing each child one of them. "It'll make you sleep tight until morning."
Philippe seized the glass at once and started drinking, but Antoinette eyed the contents warily.
"It'll make us sleep?" she repeated slowly. "But what if something happens? What if we can't wake up?" Her voice had grown shrill, and there was panic in her eyes. At once, Philippe put his glass down.
Quickly, I went over to my daughter and took her into my arms.
"Nothing will happen to you," I assured her, pressing her trembling little body against mine. "We'll all be there for you: Uncle Erik, your father, Meg, Aunt Antoinette and I. We won't let anything happen to you. And if you do wake up at night, you can always come to us. The room of your father and me is just next door." Personally, I wasn't sure whether we'd be spending the night in the same room, but that was not something I could tell the girl. One of us would be in the room, that much was certain.
The trembling stopped, and Antoinette freed herself out of the embrace to look at me with big, fearful eyes.
"I'm so scared, Maman," she whispered. "I've never been scared before, but now I am. What's happening to me? Why am I such a coward all of a sudden?"
"You're not a coward," Erik said firmly, before I had the chance to react. "You've been through a lot today. You've experienced things that would reduce most adults to tears. It's normal to be scared every now and then. Everyone is. It doesn't change the fact that you're a wonderful little girl."
Looking over my shoulder at Erik, Antoinette smiled brightly. I couldn't help being impressed. He had only had a few days to truly get to know my daughter, and yet he had found out so much about her personality. He knew how much being courageous in every situation meant to the girl, and how frightening the prospect of losing that part of her character had to be for her. Of course I could understand all that as well, but it meant more if the words of comfort came from him, who didn't often say such things.
"Where will you be, Uncle Erik?" Philippe asked. "In which room can I find you when I'm scared?"
Erik threw me an uncertain glance, and I shrugged. I hadn't thought about where Erik would sleep. I hadn't even thought about whether he'd stay here or go back to his home.
"I'm not sure," he replied. "But I won't be far away."
"We'll have to see whether Meg has a room for him," I added. "Just come to me when you're afraid of something, and we'll find Uncle Erik together."
"Drink the water now," Erik said. "It'll make you stop worrying and help you slumber like little angels."
The children giggled a little and finally emptied their glasses in long gulps. The effect was almost immediate. A minute or two after the last drops of water had vanished in their mouths, Antoinette and Philippe started yawning again. Their eyelids drooped, and their heads sank onto their pillows. Erik and I could just save the glasses from falling to the floor as their grip on them grew loose.
"Little angels indeed," I muttered softly.
"They'll never be as lovely as my big angel, though," Erik remarked, looking deep into my eyes. A shiver ran down my spine.
"Do we want to go?" I asked. "I think they're fast asleep."
He threw a glance at the children and nodded. We got to our feet quietly and made our way to the door, carrying our chairs back to the table as we went. It would have been terrible if the children woke up at night, stood up and fell over a chair in the darkness. I placed the glasses on the table.
"Ready?" I whispered.
"Almost," Erik replied. He carefully slipped the mask back onto his face. "In case anyone's in the corridor," he explained before asking: "Where do we go? Do you have a particular place in mind?"
"The library," I answered without thinking. "No one will be in there at this time of night. Besides… oh, you'll see."
"See what?" he wanted to know, but I merely smiled. I had just recalled a unique feature of Meg's library, one that even Jean couldn't have changed. I was sure Erik would like it just as much as I did.
The library was in a different part of the house. Erik left the door of the children's bedroom ajar, claiming that he'd be able to hear them call for us, no matter where in the house we'd be. As I knew how good his hearing was, I trusted him without further questions. All I cared about at the moment was getting away from the corridor as quickly as possible. I didn't know how long the nightcap Mme.Giry had suggested would last and was afraid of meeting someone, especially Raoul. I didn't feel like arguing yet again.
Fortunately, we didn't see anyone, and the library was still where it had been the last time I had seen it. I remembered Meg showing it to me a few months ago, when it had just been redecorated, just as she had shown me her dressing room today. For obvious reasons, I had been much more enthusiastic then. The thing I had admired most had been the balcony, on which we had sat and talked. And that was where I led Erik.
"Truly remarkable," he breathed, looking around as I closed the door behind us. I had brought a small lamp, which I now placed on the little table that stood there with two chairs. Actually the table had been standing between the chairs, but as soon as Erik had settled down on one of them, I took the other one and placed it next to his. I didn't want anything to stand between us tonight, not even in the most literal sense of the word.
For a while, we just sat there in silence, gazing at the sky. It was velvety black and dotted with thousands of stars. Since there were no streets around the house, there were no streetlamps to disturb the darkness. Apart from the small lamp, the stars were the only source of light. It was just enough to make out the features of Erik's face.
"The children accepted me more readily than I thought," Erik remarked suddenly. "I have to admit that my heart stopped when Philippe ran out of the room, but it all ended well. They're a lot like their mother. I was afraid that the Vicomte could have influenced them too much."
"You don't have to worry about that," I assured him, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. "Raoul isn't home often enough to influence the children in any way…"
"Was that what the two of you were arguing about?" he asked.
I threw him a surprised glance.
"How do you know we were arguing?" I wanted to know suspiciously. "You haven't… talked to Meg, have you?"
Erik shook his head.
"Of course not," he replied. "How should I have done that? I came to you right away, and Meg was with you at the time. No, I simply couldn't fail to notice the tension between you. So… what have you been arguing about? Was it the fact that he's away from home too often?"
"Yes," I answered slowly. "But that was not the main topic. We were arguing… well, about you. About you and me, to be precise. He wanted to know what happened between us, so I told him."
"And how did he react?" Erik asked. He tried his best to sound casual, but I thought I heard a trace of excitement.
"He was angry, of course," I said. "But it was nothing compared to how angry I was. Raoul is such a hypocrite. First he doesn't think anything about leaving me alone with you, and then he gets furious when he has to deal with the consequences. You'd never leave me alone like that, would you?"
I moved my hand to the side, yet to my surprise, Erik didn't take it. Instead, he cleared his throat. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but I couldn't help thinking that he looked very uncomfortable.
"Well… actually…" he muttered.