Paladin 47

A week had passed and the snow had melted, quickly replaced by the last winter storm of the season.

Philippe apologized to Sophia one night following supper. He asked if she would discontinue her lessons for two nights in a row.

"Why?" she asked as she finished cleaning the dishes.

"Because I have work to do and I can't be there."

"To watch over me?" she asked, her words far too sharp for her brother. She knew he would be aggravated, but she didn't care. Her piano lessons were the only part of the day she looked forward to, and as dramatic as it sounded, she was prepared to tell Philippe that he may as well withhold food and water from her.

"To watch over him," Philippe said as he ran his hand over his face. "I would rather not argue with you, Sophia."

"Where will you be?"

"There are a few things I must see to tonight and tomorrow."

Sophia hated when he was elusive. She felt her shoulders bunch as she turned to face him. "What sorts of things?"

"Things."

Her jaw tightened. The plate in her hands nearly slipped from her grasp. "Such as?"

"It's really of no concern."

Sophia felt a little twist of fear in her gut. "But you'll be gone late. Why can't you do whatever this thing is during the day?"

"My duties are here during the day."

"Erik, er, Monsieur Belmont will surely allow you a moment to attend to business during the day."

To that Philippe frowned and shook his head. "Asking for favors is a dangerous practice, especially when I know what he'd want as payment."

Sophia turned away, feeling her cheeks burn. "That's not true."

Philippe snorted before he walked out of the kitchen. "Not at all."

Once she finished the dishes, she called down the hall and told Philippe she was going to visit with Citrine for a moment. He grumbled a reply, which Sophia assumed was his blessing. She walked out of the house and stormed across the yard.

The darkness of night still frightened her, and as she approached the Manor she held her breath and flew through the kitchen door, scaring Citrine half to death.

"Little ghosts everywhere," Citrine said under her breath. "No dinner two nights in a row, Sophia?"

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Philippe is up to something. He's been very secretive tonight."

Citrine shrugged and took a seat at the kitchen table, gesturing to Sophia that if she wanted to sit and talk she could peel potatoes. Having nothing else to do and not wanting to be around Philippe, she picked up a knife and sat down.

"He's probably worried," Citrine said once Sophia joined her.

Sophia nodded, stubbornly refusing to say a word.

"You realize he has a good reason to be worried, don't you?"

"Yes," Sophia said under her breath. "But he's not said a word about…him."

"He doesn't need to say it. You're both thinking it. Monsieur Belmont is probably thinking it too."

Sophia glanced at Citrine, who was too busy chopping carrots to look up.

Swallowing hard, Sophia placed her knife gently on the table. "I still hear his voice even when I'm working. I thought by now it would have stopped."

Citrine frowned. "If you want to sleep in my room, Sophia, you're more than welcome. I wouldn't mind."

"It will pass," Sophia mumbled. She was ashamed of herself for what had happened and the last thing she wanted was to trouble others with her nightmares. Though she knew Citrine was only trying to help, she couldn't bear the thought of sharing something so terrible—or worse—expecting them to guide her through this mess she had created.

"You know Monsieur Belmont is in the parlor?" Citrine commented. "He knew your lesson was cancelled, but he still came down to work on something. There are cookies for him on the dining room table. Would you take them to him?"

Sophia saw the mischief in Citrine's eyes and grinned back. "You better caw like a crow to warn me if Philippe comes into the house."

Citrine chuckled. "He won't suspect a thing," she winked. "Leave the door open. It will save you trouble. It will save all of us trouble.

-o-

"Hush," Erik said as the last notes diminished and Fidelio let out a low, wistful howl.

With a chuckle Erik patted Fidelio's large head and sighed. Now that his paw was healed and he was gaining weight, his puppy playfulness was without end. Erik found he absently wrote with his right hand and allowed Fidelio to tug on his left sleeve or clasp his fist. That was, of course, when Fidelio allowed him to sit at all.

For three days Erik threatened to tie Fidelio to a tree or banish him to the cellar when the pup barked at his newfound playmate, but Erik assumed the dog knew they were idle threats.

Though he couldn't recall with concrete certainty, Erik was fairly certain that he had once owned a dog. He seemed to recall playing games of tug-of-war and the warm, wet kisses only a canine companion could issue. Like most of his life it was a muddled thought, but he wished he could recall more of these intangible memories.

There were too few bright spots in the darkness, little stars he needed to recover, to piece together in the vast nothingness he saw with unmatched clarity. He knew instinctively that there were times when he had been content, that this misery was not the only emotion he knew well.

How could there not be something else? He recognized the comfort he felt with Sophia near him, and in a way he felt something akin to Citrine as well, though he purposely kept a distance from her. It was foolish, he told himself, as he was a grown man and he shouldn't have been so socially inept. He felt like an ignorant child bumbling his way through a world everyone else mastered. It was merely another way in which he was different from society, another missing piece in the puzzle that prevented him from fitting into the whole.

Once he released Sophia, he feared that boundless confusion and alienation would plague him again, strangling him until, defeated, he returned to solitude.

Fidelio, sensing his master's unsettled heart, gave another howl, urging Erik to play another song.

"You didn't like the first one," Erik mumbled, turning the page. He paused, hearing the door creak open and knowing it wasn't a draft. "Listening outside the door tonight?" he questioned without turning.

"How do you always know?" Sophia asked through the crack in the door. "It's as though you're a mind reader."

Erik glanced at her from over his shoulder and saw her frown at the sight of his mask. "No mind reading," he answered. "Trained ears."

She nodded and stepped into the room, leaving the door wide open behind her. He noticed that she was extremely pale, her lips drawn unusually tight. Her bruises and cuts were almost healed now but she appeared in pain.

"I cannot stay for my lesson. I merely came to pay Citrine a visit and she said you were downstairs. I hope I'm not intruding upon your work."

His gaze left her face and fixed on the plate of cookies, which made his mouth water. He was beginning to think that Citrine wanted to fatten him like a hog. By spring he would undoubtedly have an apple in his mouth while she prepared to roast him slowly over a fire.

"These are from Citrine," Sophia said as she placed the plate on the serving table and brushed her hands against her skirt. "I should have brought you something to drink as well."

"I'm fine." He paused, attempting to go through the motions of a conversation, which he realized he hadn't accomplished yet. Keenly aware of himself, he knew it would be impossible not to stumble over his words. He wanted everything to be perfect, to conquer a world he didn't know.

"Oh. Good."

"How are you?" he asked. Erik hadn't seen her for the majority of the day, making their conversation the first one since the previous night. Her brother had kept her downstairs and busy for the entire morning and afternoon, and by evening when they were both done with their chores he'd called her straight home to help him around their house.

Sophia glanced behind her before she answered. "I'm a little tired. How are you?"

"Fine."

She waited a moment, but Erik couldn't think of anything else to say. He cleared his throat, his mind blank and heart wildly thudding in his chest. There were so many clever words he thought of when she wasn't around, but each idea suddenly abandoned him when she was near. She tangled his thoughts.

"I hear Fidelio is quite the music critic," Sophia said at last, laughing softly.

"Ah, yes," Erik answered, grateful that she was gregarious. "Yes, he is."

"What do you think it means when he howls? Does he show appreciation?"

"I think he wants me to stop," Erik replied with a shy smile.

"Or maybe he wants voice lessons."

Erik reached down and patted Fidelio's head, earning a tail wagging of appreciation that shook the wolfhound's whole backside.

"I think he would prefer if I threw him a ball."

Sophia nodded and smiled. "His paw looks much better. You take good care of him."

Words escaped him again and Erik trained his gaze safely on Fidelio, who had rolled onto his back and yawned.

"I bore him," Erik said under his breath.

Sophia laughed. "I suppose I won't have to concern myself over being replaced by Fidelio."

"Not at all," Erik replied as he rose to his feet.

Sophia blushed at his words. Her reaction prompted him to continue, as he wanted to please her.

"I've only tutored voices before. Teaching piano is a different challenge."

Sophia's grin widened. "My brother would agree that I'm very challenging."

"No, no, that isn't what I—"

"I know. It was a jest. It was silly."

Erik shivered, sensing his failure. "I didn't realize," he said quietly.

"You're very kind to me," Sophia said, finding her way into his arms.

His nervousness dissipated once he felt her close to him. He lost himself in the smell of her hair and the warmth of her soft frame. She made him feel strong again, capable and worthy of her affection. Everything about her was soothing, as though Sophia being near him was permission enough for him to relax. He considered removing his mask, as his skin was still quite aggravated with it in place, but he knew Citrine was down the hall and that Rene and Gabe might enter the house at any time.

"To be cruel to you, Sophia, is an unimaginable crime," he whispered.

Sophia pressed her hands against his back, holding him tighter. His insides filled with warmth, with true elation. No matter how many times he looked at Sophia, Erik found it impossible to believe that she was still real. He wondered if he would always feel this way or if he would one day look at her and feel more security than gratitude.

"When must I stop working for you?" she asked.

For a long while Erik remained silent. "I don't know yet," he said at last. "I haven't thought about it." He couldn't bear to tell her that he'd spent his day wondering what would happen, assuming she would find employment—and a suitor—elsewhere.

"But soon?"

Erik nodded.

"But my brother will remain under your employment?"

"Of course."

Lifting her face, Sophia kissed him gently on the cheek. "I should return home before Philippe worries."

Erik slowly released her, finding that her fingers still clung to him. He sensed that there was more she wanted to tell him but he had no idea how to question her. He feared she would become angry with him if he turned too overbearing.

"Shall I walk you out?" he asked.

Her eyes brightened and she nodded. "I would like that."

Offering his arm, Erik found a glimmer of hope, of triumph, and a small missing piece of the puzzle returned to him.

-o-

"Lock the doors when I leave," Philippe instructed once Sophia returned.

Sophia nodded, following him into the kitchen. "How long will you be gone?"

"Not long," he answered. "And, if I may remind you, know that I may return at any moment."

To that Sophia stifled a laugh. "You've simply ruined my intentions for this evening."

Philippe glared at her but saw the worry in her eyes.

"Go to sleep. You won't notice that I'm gone," he said gently. "I've asked Gabe and his father to keep an eye on the house while I'm away."

"Oh?"

"It's sensible," he snapped.

Sophia frowned. "I didn't say anything," she said softly.

Philippe nodded, realizing he was more nervous than he first thought. Even if he only intended to be away from home for a couple of hours, it was ample time for something to happen to his sister.

His expression softened. "For your protection, of course."

Her eyes turned down at his words. "I see."

Looking away, Philippe reached for his coat. "You know that I care a great deal for you, Sophia. It is imperative that I have your cooperation tonight."

"Philippe!" Sophia shouted as he reached for the doorknob.

He turned, seeing the fear on her face.

"You don't think he'll…"

Philippe felt his heart ache. "Lock the doors. I'll ask Citrine to stay with you."

Before she could protest he was gone.