She should not have said that. Calling him 'master' had been a deliberate attack on his kindness. And asking if he wanted her - of course he wanted her. However, she certainly did not want him, and he did not relish the idea of spending the night with someone who was only pleasuring him to live. It was a crime against nature, love, decency, and anything true.

Yet there was something in the way she looked when he had first opened the door. Something in the way she looked at him as well. Her face and neck were flushed, but gooseflesh prickled on her skin. Something had made her either cold or hot, and that was the only explanation for that. It had to be.

He should not have slammed the door on her. How could he expect her to be thinking clearly after being half starved and living as a slave? No, it was absurd. Resolving to go in and justify his behavior to her, he paced about the apartments trying to decide how best to apologize when he heard a knock on the door.

Striding to it, he wondered absentmindedly if more food was ready when he saw the man at the door.

"Nadir, what do you want?"

"What do I want? This is the second odalisque they have sent you, and this girl from your own country, they whisper, and the spiders have reported nothing. There have been no indications of you consummating, although they did hear you screaming at her earlier."

"That is none of your business," he said curtly.

"Do you know what tortures the lady has planned for tomorrow?"

"No, but that is of no consequence," a voice interrupted.

Spinning on his heel, he rounded on her. "What are you doing? How long have you been standing there?"

"I apologize for intruding and eavesdropping, but I have no wish to die. I do not want to be tortured in unspeakable ways manufactured to be drawn out and extend my pain. You, for some reason, don't care about any of that. How hard is it to take a woman who is given to you? Do I repulse you? Have I done something to displease you?"

Erik was exceptionally thankful that the daroga did not have full command of the French language yet, and likewise for the mask that hid his embarrassment. Speaking in a level voice to the girl he replied, "No, Aria, you are not repulsive to me at all. I do not feel. I can't. It is a crime against you to take advantage of you only because I must. You don't deserve to be forced to spend the night with a hideous monster just so you can continue to live in this hellhole."

"So you believe my torture and death more appropriate? I think I should have a say in this."

"I do not want you to die. Can't you see that I am trying to help you?"

"Can't you see that I don't want your help?"

They had reached a stalemate. "Go on and eat, mademoiselle."

Sighing as he retreated behind the wall of icy courtesy, the girl did as she was told and left. Nadir only looked questioningly at him and he spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"It seems I have no choice, then." The daroga only looked at him. "Well? What do you expect me to do? She does not wish to die, yet strangely she has no wish to leave the country, either. I know she would not lay with me of her own free will, but I did give her the choice."

"And she made it."

"Yes, she did."

With a slight smile on his face his friend said, "I don't think I've ever seen a man more somber on the eve of his wedding. If you'll excuse me," he let the sentence hang.

"Of course. You have such a twisted sense of humor it shouldn't even be amusing."

"Erik, if given the chance, she could possibly come to love you."

Laughing out loud, he retorted, "That's the most amusing thing you've said all night, my dear daroga. The only reason she will lie with me is to save her life. But can I really condemn her for that? Go, I shall speak with you tomorrow."

After quite rudely being told to leave the room, Aria discovered several things to her liking in an antechamber. She was finishing off a second apple when he returned.

"Please excuse my behavior earlier, mademoiselle. This is no excuse, but I. It is of no consequence."

He stared at her for a moment and reminded her of a starving child. What should she do? "You are forgiven." He bowed his head in reply and went to leave when she questioned, "Have you decided?"

Stopping in his tracks, he slowly turned around to face her. Removing the mask, he asked, "Are you certain? Are you absolutely certain that you can live with yourself after spending the night with this?"

He gestured to his pathetic excuse for a face and in his eyes were unshed tears, anger, and a sadness that ran to the depths of his soul. It was a monstrous hard thing to look on death and say with equanimity that you could kiss and caress and feign love to it. Somehow, she managed to say yes, remembering the tortures and inevitable death that would follow if she didn't.

"Well, then, Aria."

"How would you like to begin?"

His rotted features turned and he could not speak. He seemed truly nonplussed. "I don't know. I suppose whatever you wish, since you are the one. Well, it's the first time."

It was fascinating how when he blushed his cheeks reddened like normal ones. The blue veins seemed to enlarge slightly and there was a distinct color in them. She could not bring herself to think of all that was to come after the awkward chat. It was too much. It was as if she was forced into some arranged medieval marriage with a terrifying-

"Aria? Are you alright? Here, I'll bring you something. Stop crying, please." He sounded so much like a helpless child. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"What? Oh, no! I was just thinking. Please, you didn't. My mind was running away to the past. I was remembering - never mind." The lie came effortlessly. He meant her no harm, truly, yet on some level she cursed him for being born, for having to be with him. Youwickedgirl.Hehasshownyounothingbutkindnessandyou'rethinkingsuchawfulthingsabouthim. "You said that, forgive me, it is my first time with a man, though I know all of how to please them. Might I inquire of you?"

"Mademoiselle, Aria, I've never. No. I've not been with a woman. And I do not know women as you know men."

"Oh."

"Yes."

If you ever have the occasion to speak of such things it is very strange. You are longing to know more, and yet are forbidden to ask by the taboos of society. It was rather amusing, seeing as the entire situation was, at best for European society, a taboo.

"Do you want to know what I was really thinking, Erik?"

"No."

"I'm going to tell you anyway."

"I'd rather not hear it. Pity is death to desire and I'm sure you have none of either for me."

"I was thinking about how amusing this situation is. Neither of us find ourselves able to speak of, well, of making love without embarrassment, and yet, that is the only reason we are here speaking."

"Yes," he said with a bitter twist of his mouth. "Here you are, a beautiful young girl who, by all rights, should be at some academy playing the lovely coquette where you could escape to the Opera or some other source of entertainment for pleasure. Instead, you are here with me, a hideous murderer with a taste for death and the face of a corpse. I have the voice of an angel and it was a gross cruelty that I was allowed to live. I have been placed in a position of power over you and given something I never believed I would have. Now I do, and cannot use it."

"I suppose I could not have said it better myself," she agreed with a sad smile. "I don't believe that you have a taste for death. You have shown me nothing but kindness, Erik. I thank you for that. Shouldn't we get on with it, then?"

"No."

"We've been over this time and again."

"I can't. I'm sorry; it isn't right."

"No, perhaps it isn't, but still, I don't want to die and you aren't a monster. Tell me one thing: the first time you killed, was it for protection or pleasure?"

"Protection, however it did give me a certain satisfaction."

"Then this lifestyle has been imposed upon you. You are a genius, Erik." Not knowing where this was coming from, she could not help but continue. "Your mind, which has been the source of such frightful tortures, has the potential to have countless wonderful things come from it instead. Nothing seems to be beyond you!"

"Yes, Aria. Nothing is beyond me, yet I am like Faust. Damned to live alone, although everything is possible, but to what end? No one will ever accept me or the good I can do."

Once again, they had reached a stalemate. Wordswillsimplynotdo. Leaning over, she gently cupped his appalling face and looked steadily into his eyes. "You're frightened. It's perfectly understandable. Have you ever, honestly, tried to live a normal life?"

"Once," he whispered harshly. "And a girl about your age died from it."

"Please, don't make the same mistake again."

Leaning over, she traced her small fingers over his face. Lightly traveling over his cheeks and across his temples they closed his eyes. Aria took a deep breath, drew her tongue across her lips, closed her eyes, and kissed him. It was a very gentle kiss. Not particularly exploratory or passionate, simply comforting. She wanted to hold on to someone and to be held. She wanted to be comforted and told that everything would be all right again.

He did not return the kiss. In fact, after a few seconds she was beginning to wonder what she was doing wrong when at last his mouth opened slightly and she felt the velvety caress of his tongue on her lips. Together they grew more relaxed and eased into the warm feeling spreading from such a simple contact. After a while they slowed and stopped, pulling apart to breathe.

When she looked in his eyes, the expression there was indescribable and both amazed and frightened her. Love, lust, fear, need, and every conceivable emotion whirled in his mismatched eyes. However, what truly frightened her was the fact that her eyes mirrored his exactly.