Chapter 6
The Persian found it endearing that he always found Erik sleeping when he visited. He remembered the weariness of fatherhood, even though he had a wife and servants and nursemaids.
When he arrived this time, however, he was surprised to see Émilie sleeping as well, her head resting in the crook of her father's arm, a bit of saliva trailing from her open mouth onto Erik's shirtsleeves.
"Well don't just stand there, Daroga," Erik snapped quietly. "Fetch some tea." The eyes were open behind the mask.
Nadir did as requested. When he returned, they were both up and Émilie was pulling on Erik's necktie and babbling nonsense.
"Émilie," Nadir interrupted after setting the tea tray down, "I have brought you a present." He held out a small wooden doll which Émilie eyed warily.
"Go on, mon cœur. The insufferable man thinks he can earn Émilie's favor with gifts. Best not disappoint him."
With unsuspected grace and speed, she snatched her new toy and turned away so that she could study it in the safety between her little body and her father's. She seemed to find it acceptable and began to chew contentedly on one of the doll's legs.
The two men watched her a moment longer before Nadir commented, "The opera is putting on Faust tonight."
"I'm sure it will be a perfect abomination."
"Probably."
"I consider resuming my role as opera ghost from time to time. If nothing else, the income would be appreciated. I am still exceedingly wealthy, but the funds do dwindle quickly. I don't know if Madame Giry cheats me on everything or if children are really this expensive."
Émilie tossed her doll to the floor so Erik could pick it up and return it to her.
"Children are not usually this expensive. You simply dress her better than the average princess and buy her more toys than she could ever play with. You will spoil this child, my friend."
Holding her up in from of him, Erik said, "Do you hear that, mon cœur? This hypocrite brings gifts and then says I spoil you. I think we must demand he leave at once. Like always, he comes to give his unsolicited opinions. Erik cannot allow it!"
He kept talking and saying nothing while Nadir watched open-mouthed. Since he had known him, Erik had always been prone to muttering to himself; probably he was not even aware of it. He seemed no more aware of this constant chatter to his daughter either. He didn't assume the cooing tone Nadir and Christine used though. Despite his beautiful, dynamic voice, Nadir suspected he didn't have such a tone in his repertoire. No, his voice was gentle and commanding when he spoke to Émilie. Nadir imagined it was the same voice he had used with Christine when she was a child.
Suddenly Erik rose and set Émilie on the floor, excusing himself to change shirts and bidding Nadir watch the baby.
"I knew I kept you around for something, Daroga," he remarked before disappearing.
Nadir merely snorted and went to pick up his honorary goddaughter, guessing that between the two men, her feet might never touch the ground. As soon as she was settled, however, she began to cry.
Instantly Erik was back in the doorway, looking disheveled with his shirt only half done up. "What did you do to her?" he demanded.
"Nothing. I'm just holding her."
Émilie turned in Nadir's arms and thrust out her hands toward her father who jumped forward to claim her.
"She doesn't like your skin," he explained as he used a thumb to wipe away her tears.
"Sorry?"
"Your skin," Erik said smugly, "it's too warm. She doesn't like it."