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She'd kissed him. The fact that he had been kissed, for the first time in his miserable existence, made him want to die. He closed his eyes and begged forgiveness for all his sins from any divinity out there and pleaded for them to take him now while the feeling of being kissed remained on his lips.
When she'd kissed him, she hadn't been lying. He believed everything she said was true and in that single instant when her soft lips touched his, he would have gladly died. Such a gentle and seemingly insignificant thing, but somehow he knew that the memory of that first kiss would remain with him forever. Merely the brush of silky fingers gliding across his face, then the soft caress of her moist lips on his made his breath catch in his throat. Opening his eyes, he looked down into her small, lovely face. She seemed frightened, aroused, and comforted by turns. How he longed to take her in his arms and hold her close forever. Still, it was only a silly dream, he knew. Of course, she had wanted to live. To be kind he should just get this over with, for her sake. He should not become too attached or possessive; simply send her off with payment like a common whore.
But Aria could never be a common whore. She couldn't be a common anything. Nor was she his to do with as he pleased. He cursed himself for blaspheming her so in his mind. Even if he did send her away he could never forget her as though she was merely some passing body, giving only passing pleasure and a few moments of blissful release. No, she was his first kiss and as the night progressed, most likely the first woman he ever had. Andundoubtedlythelast a voice in his mind screamed at him. But would it really be so bad to have her be his first and last? Just like a wife.
She was still looking up at him, confusion now the presiding emotion on her face. He realized he had been staring off into some space in her hair for a while and she was obviously disconcerted.
He reached to stroke her face and stopped short, silently asking her permission with a nervous glance. Suddenly ashamed, he looked away and felt pleasantly surprised when she wound her fingers with his and pulled his hand onto her skin. The silvered paint was smudging onto his fingers as he caressed her. She closed her eyes and leaned closer to him. Her face was pale and warm beneath the thick paints and powders, and he had a certain curiosity to see what she would look like without the heavy masquerading makeup.
"Would you care for a bath? Those cosmetics can not be very comfortable."
"Is there time?" she questioned hopefully. He took his hand away and retrieved his pocket watch.
"It's only five minutes until midnight. There is plenty of time. I'll wake someone to draw you a bath."
"No, let them sleep, I can do it myself."
"It's no trouble."
"It's trouble to them."
"Why are you so concerned with their comfort when they are obviously so unconcerned with yours? I do not understand this trait of kindness."
"In case you had forgotten, I am nothing more than a slave as well. In a selfish way, I think of my own situation, too."
In a moment of passion, he forgot himself and grabbed her chin. Lifting her face up to his with the tips of his fingers, he said, "I swear, you won't be a slave after tomorrow, even if I have to take you out of the country to do it. I don't think of you as one and you should not either. You are my queen of the night and this is but an inconvenience before you can live in the kingdom I will build for you."
Her eyes grew wide as he spoke and filled with disbelief. She looked suspicious and asked, "You won't send me away, then? I can stay and we'll...make love?"
"I won't send you away unless you wish to leave, nor will I let you die."
"Truly?"
"I promise. I'll never send you away unless you want to go. I'll do whatever you want, Aria, I swear it." Andwherewasallofthiscomingfrom?IbarelyknowthegirlandI'mtellingherI'llbuildherakingdom?Somuchfornotbeingattached.Justthinkwhatyou'llbelikeafteryoumakelove.
"If you don't mind, I'll have my bath now."
"Of course. I'll see about having some garments sent for you."
"Thank you."
He led her to the opulent bathroom and left her with some soap. He would need to send for bath salts and oils and lotions as well. Women liked those things, didn't they? He recalled his mother had always smelled good...
Pushing those thoughts aside as he heard the water flowing into the large marble bath he sent for her clothes and the bath products and began to pace around his apartments. They were large and spacious as befit his position in the corrupt court. He thought longingly of the palace he was building at Tehran. The palace...he could not leave until it was completed. This was his tribute to Giovanni, the man he'd considered a father until Luciana.
But when he was finished with the palace the shah knew there was no reason for him to stay in Persia. He was not loved by anyone in this godforsaken land, which was no surprise. He had heard the rumors of what the Shadow of God wished to do to him when the construction was completed. Although now there was another person to worry about. He could easily slip away into the mists of the night whenever he chose, but Aria was another matter. Two people were more easily caught than one.
The list of things to think about now that he had agreed to keep her seemed endless. It was much easier to think clearly when she was out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind; the old adage proved itself very true. WhenI'mnotstaringintothosequicksilvereyesandwatchingherdelicatemovementsthefogisliftedfrommybrain.
"Emotions are such pathetic things. Effects that should be conquered easily and set aside with contempt; exactly what I was able to do in the past. They were only acknowledged when composing. Of course, that is only natural, since when I write, I pour my heart and soul into every note, rest, and measure. All those emotions had a purpose. Not like normal people. No, they run around doing everything by how they feel, it's truly pitiful. Living by your baser instincts and ignoring reason and logic only because that was what you felt you should do.
And why wouldn't those foolish people want to live like that? All songs and stories and operas are of feelings and emotions. Even the music I compose is charged with love, hate, and longing. Every legend has the basis of raw human emotion. Love, hate, pride and pain are all part of the myth and mystique of the hero and his damsel in distress. You can be a hero forever in the stories and have a love that is ageless and infinite yet the one thing these people miss in all the songs is the key word. Tragedy. There is no love without hate, nor pleasure without pain. Of course these pretty fools don't mind that, and what is truly laughable is how they rationalize it. That is the most amusing part: when you see them prattle on and on about fantastic things they know nothing about and then try to make it all logical and rational so as not to appear insane. Bravo!"
Realizing that he had just delivered quite a passionate soliloquy he smiled bitterly and wondered what's the point of any of this? She'salreadywormedherwayintomyheartandtheseemotionsareoverpoweringmeaseveryminutewearson.Congratulations,Erik.You'vedoneafinejobofrationalizingitthistime,haven'tyou?
As the cool water spilled into the welcoming interior of the porcelain bath, she began to undress. It was more difficult at first than she had anticipated, and more than once she considered calling him in to help her. She blushed at the thought, though upon consideration she recalled the reason she was bathing in the first place. No servants had arrived to help her as of yet, and between the layers of clothing and tangles of hair it would certainly take a while to complete the undressing herself.
The first order was to get out of these clothes. They were very loose and sheer to look at, much like the gauzy curtains that hung like fairies wings in the harem. A few ties and strings in cleverly concealed places held them together, making it a test of her flexibility to reach certain knots.
Some were proving to be impossible, and she realized it would become a necessity to enlist his help. Without a mirror she would never untangle the masses of hair, and without a maid the effort would take hours. The one task she could begin to complete by herself was to draw the water. The marble bath was enormous and could have easily seated two or more people and as the water began to rise she knew she could not put off asking for assistance much longer. Higher and higher she watched the crystal water flow until it reached the decorative tile edging and she knew she must stop it now.
Tentatively she walked to the door and into the hall in search of her soon to be lover.
"Erik?" she called out.
A soft reply from a distant room met her inquiry.
"Erik, if you could spare a moment, I'd appreciate your help with something."
"Of course, what is it that you need?"
"No servants have arrived, and I need to be out of these clothes."
"I see. I had hoped that they would be here shortly, but it seems that my commands are not being followed. I don't see how I can be of assistance to you."
"Possibly by helping me remove my clothing and undressing my hair?"
"Ah, yes, well…would you be comfortable with that? You have time to wait if you wouldn't mind. I shall send for someone again."
"The truth is, I do mind waiting, and the water will cool shortly if I don't bathe soon. I'm sure you recall the reason that I'm bathing in the first place."
"Yes," he replied coolly with infuriating logic, "to cleanse the paint from your skin. Now, I can easily send for someone again, because I really don't think it would be for the best if I-"
She stepped towards him and placed her hands lightly on his shoulders.
"You're going to see me without any of this shortly anyway, what's the point in putting it off any longer?" Turning her back on him, she continued, "Now, there should be a line of ties and strings hidden somewhere under the mess they've made of my hair. Please untie them."
At first there was no response. He did not move to undo the knots or even to walk away. Then, at last she felt the cool touch of his fingers on her lower back as they moved ever upwards to unlace the silky strings one by one. Carefully and deliberately she felt him lightly tug at the strings, but he only pulled hard enough to loosen them. The long and deft fingers moved to the sides of her hips and undid the ties there as well. Sheer, silvery wisps of fabric literally hung from her body; she felt him step away and was filled with a desperate longing for him to return.
"The ties should be sufficiently loose for you to undress yourself. I shall leave you to your bath."
The heels of his shoes made a silent noise on the floor and she could hear him begin to walk away. Impulsively, she called out, "Erik!"
"Yes, Aria?"
"What about my hair?"
"Come again?"
"My hair," she repeated lamely. "It's even more of a mess than my skirts. I don't know how I'll manage to untangle it, and I certainly can't bathe with it like this. What shall I do?"
"Aria, I'm sorry, but I truly haven't the slightest idea where even to begin. Honestly, this shall have to wait for someone else's attention."
"Erik, I don't have time to wait. Please, just undo the pins and work some oil into the tangles. That is to say you have oil, of course. And just ease the knots out, however they've been done up. Do you have a brush? The soap and water would help dissolve some of the paste they applied."
"Aria," he began.
"Really, Erik. It's not that difficult."
"Please, I'll wake someone. Anyone. And I don't even have a suitable brush for you." He very obviously averted his eyes from her now half-naked figure. "You'll never be able to relax if I'm present…"
"Nonsense. Although, if you're truly that uncomfortable with it. Turn around, please." Immediately, he did as she asked, and she continued, "I'll step into the bath, it's deep enough that you won't be compromising my honor or anything like that, and then you can help with my hair. All right?" Before he could respond, she stepped out of the remnants of costume clinging to her body, and sank into the marble bath. The warm water felt remarkable against her skin, and she could feel some of the tension ease out of her lower back. Far off, she heard the delicate chime of a bell.
"Pray, excuse me, Aria. Perhaps the servants I demanded have arrived."