The silence at the dinner table was awkward in the extreme.
"From now on you are to dress properly for dinner, not in those rags," Erik said sternly.
Kara blushed in shame. "I don't have any other clothes," she admitted, "These are all I own, monsieur."
"Erik."
"What?"
"Erik. My name is Erik. And yours?"
"Kara."
"Well, Kara, it seems as though I will have to take you shopping."
Her head shot up in surprise, but she said nothing. It would be nice to have an outing.
"What are your skills?" Erik asked suddenly. Anything to prevent that awful silence from returning.
"Well, I can read, write, and speak in English and French. I can draw-badly. I can swordfight, read maps, navigate with tools and by the stars. I'm good at disguising myself and going unnoticed when I want to. I can clean, and cook, if I have a nice recipe to follow. I can swim, and memorize a lot of information in little time. Umm…that's all I can think of, for now."
"And what do you like to do, what are your interests?" Erik wanted to know.
Kara smiled shyly. "Well, you already know I like to read. I also like stitching, etching things with metal, acting, and singing."
"You sing?" asked Erik, "Are you any good?"
"Yes."
"Then sing."
"What, now?"
"Yes."
Kara stared at him, as if she was going to refuse him. But then, she opened her mouth and began to sing. Her sweet soprano voice soared through the air, rising and dipping, but never faltering. Erik felt his breath catch. He thought he would never hear anyone or anything that could come close to Christine. But this girl-well, he never thought he'd say it, but this girl far outstripped Christine.
Her range was greater, her control was excellent, yet her spirit was wild, and her vibrato was solid. He fell into a trance without realizing it, lost in memories and dreams. When the last note of her song fell away, it took a few moments for him to snap out of it.
"Very good," he said stiffly.
Immediately he hated himself. That sounded so cold, so formal, so inadequate compared to the praise she deserved. But he had quite a shock, and he wasn't used to expressing his feelings to others.
"So, what is it you like to do?" Kara asked.
"I am an architect and designer, a composer and a magician. I sing and play many instruments, including the organ, piano, and violin. I used to own an opera house in Paris."
"Oh," said Kara, blushing, "I feel so silly. I must have sounded terrible compared to what you're used to."
"No. On the contrary, you far surpassed what I am used to."
Kara didn't know what to say to that. So, he liked her singing, but his compliments were hard to come by. She cleared her throat and asked timidly, "Do you miss Paris?"
Erik sighed. "That is complicated. Sometimes I do, but then I remember why I left."
"Why did you leave?"
Erik looked to be on the verge of answering, but then he said, "You are too curious. I don't like curious women."
"I'm sorry," said Kara, "I didn't mean to upset you."
The rest of the meal went on in peaceful silence.
A day later, Morning, London, England
The next morning, they set out into town together. Kara was smiling as she soaked in the sunshine. Erik noticed that in direct sunlight, her hair, which he previously thought was plain brown, now shone with tints of copper and gold. She was beautiful. She seemed genuinely happy, as if she was content just with the air and sunlight. Little did he know, she was. For the first time in a long time, she felt free.
He wound up buying her a white linen nightgown, a crushed velvet forest green formal dress, and three day dresses-one in blue, one in a mellow purple, and one in light yellow. Then he bought her a pair of white flats, and a pair of grey dress shoes with little wooden heels. Finally, he bought her a long, white fur coat with a matching muff.
"Erik, this is amazing. Thank you so much!"
"I do dare say they are better than the rags you were wearing," he agreed.
Glancing up at the sun, seeing it was noon, he added, "Are you hungry?"
"Yes."
"Come with me."
He took her to a little tea shop, where they had cucumber sandwiches and Earl Grey tea. The sandwiches were light and crispy and cool on the tongue, providing a nice contrast with the tea.
"I had a nice outing today, Erik," Kara said cheerily, "Thank you."
Erik glanced at her from the corner of his vision. "Yes, well…"
He wanted to remain aloof, but he had to agree with her. With a pretty girl at his side, eating at a normal restaurant, on a normal day…well. He almost felt like a normal man, with a normal life. It was nice.
Erik's Manor, London England, Late afternoon
"So what do you do all day?" Kara asked.
"I compose."
A sorrowful, longing expression came across her face. Erik looked at her curiously.
"What is it?"
"I just miss the freedom of what I could have had in the future."
"What do you mean?"
"I wanted so much for my life. I wanted to see the world, and…well, I never wanted love, or saw myself getting married, but now that even the possibility of finding a nice man is gone, I-" Kara sighed, letting her sentence drop.
"I'm doing you a favor," Erik said harshly, "Love brings crippling pain."
He began to walk away down the hall, and Kara said, "After losing my father, I can't disagree with you. It hurt so much when he died and I miss him every day."
Erik stopped in his tracks. "You lost your father?"
"Yes."
"My condolences."
"Thank you. But, Erik, I learned that life does go on. You just have to see the good in the world. Learn to appreciate the little things, and let the love in you grow for everything around you."
"I do hate to disappoint you, but there is no love in my heart. There hasn't been for a very long time."
"I don't believe that," Kara whispered.
Erik walked away quickly, eager to get away from such a conversation. Kara went to her room and began to put away her new things, thinking about Erik.
On a physical level, he was amazing. His posture, his presence was as if he was a king. And his voice! Deep baritone, smooth, strong, enticing. His eyes, the color of molten gold, were so expressive, full of pain and pride, yet they could hold such anger and such tenderness.
On an emotional level, he was distant, a little awkward, sometimes considerate and caring. He was formal, controlling, and mysterious. From his reluctance to talk about Paris and his scorn for love, she thought he had a bad relationship gone awry there. But she didn't know for sure, she had no proof, it was just a guess. She wondered if she could help him. It wouldn't be easy, but then, nothing worth doing ever was.
Kara finished putting everything away before dinner and looked around a little hesitantly. He said to dress properly for dinner. What did that mean? Erik had purchased her a formal dress earlier, but she had never worn anything so fine. Surely it wasn't meant for just an ordinary, everyday dinner. What if she stained it?
Horrified at the thought, she dressed in the long sleeved, V necked blue dress and paired it with the white flats. Hopefully, that was good enough. She thought it was. The fabric was soft, the cut was clean, and the stitches neat. This was a very fine dress, finer than she had ever worn, and it was meant for everyday wear!
So, it was with some trepidation that she entered the dining room, looking at Erik with her head lowered, peering up at him shyly from beneath her lashes. Erik took one look at her and guessed what she was thinking, and a corner of his mouth quirked upward in a smile.
"You look fine," he said, "Sit, please."
She did so. "What did you find since our outing to appreciate?" Kara asked.
Erik's eyes were hard, his tone flat.
"Nothing."
"Oh, come on, Erik. I'll tell you mine, then. I'm thankful for the delicious food provided by your talented chef."
He didn't answer. Kara sighed and let it go for now. She would have to approach this from a different angle.
The maid came in and was ladling soup into Erik's bowl when her arm was jostled, and the hot liquid spilled onto his arm. He came to his feet, roaring with pain and anger. The maid backed off, and he turned on her.
"You clumsy swine!" he barked.
Kara was there in a flash, putting herself between the maid and the furious Erik.
"Leave her alone!" exclaimed Kara, "She didn't mean to, it was an accident!"
The maid took her chance to escape and ran back into the kitchen.
"Don't you dare come between me and disciplining my staff!" he thundered.
"I will not permit you to harm innocent people!" she shouted back, "Just because you don't have a normal face and you're insecure about it doesn't mean you can take it out on others! I know you're better than being bad!"
CRACK!
Kara's head snapped to the side, she stumbled back a few steps, tripped on her skirt, and fell to the floor. Her ears rang, and pain spread across her cheek. It took a few seconds for her brain to catch up with what happened. He had hit her!
"Say that again," he dared, "Still think I'm good?"
Kara didn't answer.
"Shall I give you another?" Erik hissed venomously.
Kara whimpered and shuffled back a little, shaking her head, cowering before him. He grabbed her hair and pulled her to her feet, making her shriek with pain.
"I've been too easy with you," he said, dragging her to her room and over to the bed.
He shoved her down to the floor and produced a length of rope from what seemed to be thin air, tying her hands together behind her back and then tying them to the leg of the bed.
"Perhaps some time spent as a true prisoner will remind you of your place," he added, standing and leaving the room, locking her in.
Kara was rock still for a few seconds, breathing heavily, her brain in shock. Then she began to struggle, yanking at her bonds. She even got to her knees and tried fast walking on them to get away, straining at the ropes, which didn't budge. She fell back against the post and tried to bite at it, but her body didn't bend like that. Then it was back to hopelessly tugging. At last, she gave up. She would abide being confined to the house, but this was unbearable!
Kara threw her head back and screamed. It was long and high pitched, full of all her frustration, pain, anger, and humiliation. When at last she ran out of air, she slumped against the bed, feeling utterly helpless. It was one of her top most hated emotions. Surely he couldn't do this. She didn't belong to him! But in the back of her mind, she knew she did. Now she wondered how long she would be kept like this.
Author's Note: Oh, I love reviews! Thank you all so much for your comments, Terri, devotedtodisney, and chaiteaandwalnuts! Special thanks go to FateMagician for helping me become a better writer! I hope the scene changes are how they should be. And I'd just like to say that any characters, scenes, dialogue, come from my own twisted mind and any resemblance to any other works or characters, living, dead, or fictional are completely coincidental. And I've never seen the Princess Bride, the Court Jester, or The Rocketeer.