A/N: I skipped a week, I know, since I've been quite busy lately. But to compensate for it, here's a chapter which happens to be a bit longer than usual. As always, reviews are appreciated.

Chapter 4

Nadir tried his best to reassure himself with the fact that despite Erik often having angry outbursts, he had always been able to gain enough self-control not to do so in front of the Shah himself. When it came to other dignitaries, no matter what status they had at court, Erik seemed as if he couldn't care less and that their social rank was nothing – not to mention that there was even a more or less obvious sentiment of superiority.

The khanum had even faced a few of his… temper tantrums. But she knew how to canalize them into something else.

In a split second, he started moving towards Meg, in an attempt to shield her and show Erik this time, he would have none of it. The success of such a gesture on Erik's temper was, however… rather dubious.

But what stopped him was Meg slowly turning towards Erik, lifting up her head, looking at him in the eye, even straightening up and squaring her shoulders a bit.

Meg was still afraid. She could feel her legs shaking, as she instinctively stuck them together in a way of feeling more stable. It was certainly easy to understand why Erik wasn't too… happy about all this. It was even obvious that until now, he knew nothing about it. But something within her stirred and gave her courage. It came from her fright, and, like a little soldier, she charged, by straightening up with dignity like the ballerina she was.

She had no idea where her newfound strength came from. She had to admit it had somewhat always been that way, perhaps thanks to her mother's example – in front of an adversary, she never cowered. Of course, she had that habit of screaming easily. But she never let her fear get the better of her, and she would always be the first one to find a solution, such as using a broom to get a rat out of the dormitory.

But here, she had nothing but her courage. And so, she even dared making a few steps towards Erik, still looking at him in the eye.

The fury was gone, and had given place to a sort of contemptuous interest. With his arms crossed and his mouth twisted in a utterly humorless smirk, Meg could almost imagine one of his eyebrows rise under the mask. When she arrived near him, her courage faded as she was painfully reminded of how tiny she was. It was already a pain when she was in the ballet chorus, along with her curves which, without making her chubby, were more prominent than with the other tall, willowy dancers and had always given her trouble in auditions for solo roles.

In this case, Erik was so tall Meg could barely reach his shoulder.

She starred at him, with those big grey eyes of hers, with something that Erik read as curiosity. There was still a flicker of nervousness, here and there, but he couldn't see a sign of her wanting to run away as fast as she could.

His stiffness diminished, as his contempt changed into a sort of quizzical shock, which only the Shah's voice was able to break, after he had lowered his head back toward the curtain and that the female silhouette had whispered something to him.

"Your bride may want to know you better, Angel of Doom. My mother has suggested you might want to take off your mask. You should have known that coming in with your face covered is quite an impolite thing to do, isn't it?"

Meg couldn't help but compare the Shah's words to poisoned honey, and, as she saw Erik tense again, she quickly turned her head towards her mother and her uncle, as if she was trying to ask them what to do. Of course, an unmasking could only mean no good, and this was probably all some sort of twisted game or test just to see how she would react.

"I never said I actually agreed to this arrangement," Erik finally said.

As she heard his voice for the first time, Meg shivered. It was melodious, and despite the evident anger in it, it sounded like a song to her. A beautiful one. It would curl around her like a snake trying to charm her and had a somehow commanding propriety, the kind that would make you kneel and submit to its every will if you were less spirited. It reminded her of the voice of angels as they were described in old tales told to children. But if you paid closer attention, the darkness, splendid yet somehow daunting, unfurled itself in all its splendor.

She retained herself from chuckling, mocking herself for being stunned for nothing more than a speaking voice.

"I thought you'd be more reasonable this time," the Shah replied. "The last time I gave you such a gift, you were ungrateful enough to turn her away. You know how it ended for her, hmm? You wouldn't turn away the daughter of an old friend for her to have such a fate…"

The Shah pointed towards Anouar, and it seemed as if Erik finally noticed her for the first time. Meg could see his eyes widen and his chin slightly trembling by shock. He then glanced back at Meg, studying her face, as if he was trying to find any kind of resemblance she would have with her mother. Apart from the eyes' color and shape, he didn't find any, and he couldn't help but turn away in disdain.

"Everything will be quite simple," the Shah said. "I need you for my palace and for other tasks I know only you can accomplish. But you are definitely under suspicion now for being accomplice to Anouar Khan's escape. She is to be a hostage, and shall be imprisoned: if you refuse to marry her daughter, they both die… or I might just keep the daughter for myself, as she is rather good-looking."

Anouar made a gesture as if she tried to lunge forward, only to be held back by the guards surrounding her.

"Things could be… simpler, Your Majesty," Erik deadpanned.

"Well, it is rather amusing to see an old bachelor such as yourself finally settling down, isn't it?" the Shah replied, smiling. "And I can't refuse giving such a small pleasure to my mother. She does care a lot about your welfare. But enough of this… what did I ask for again? Ah yes. Take off your mask."

Erik clenched his fists, clearly retaining himself from lunging towards the Shah. Meg started trembling again, and turned towards her mother and her uncle. She saw both Nadir and Anouar starring at her almost pleadingly. Her mother even managed to gesture with her lips:

"Don't scream."

Meg swallowed, and turned back towards Erik, still looking at him in the eye. His anger, in the meanwhile, had only increased.

"Well?" the Shah asked.

Meg heard Erik yell something loudly in Persian, guessing it was probably some curse, and shout loudly towards the female silhouette behind the curtain. The woman didn't move an inch, as if she was waiting for something, and the Shah only smiled and gave Erik a mocking nod of the head, but his tight smile clearly showed that he was growing impatient.

His mouth clenched tightly, Erik ripped off his mask in a rage.

He had to retain himself for not gloating while seeing Meg pale, while she clenched the tails of her clothing to the point her hands' joints were white and her legs and lower lip shook, her eyes open wide in horror. Not a single sound came out of her throat, as she repeated the same mantra in her mind.

Don't scream.

Don't scream.

Just don't scream.

To be perfectly honest, it was hard not to.

He had no nose.

Meg still had trouble wrapping her mind around that fact. All she saw at its usual place were two gaping nostrils. His skin was yellowish at some parts, reddish at others, with a strange shade of grey being the dominant color, except around the eyes, where it turned in shades of dark brown. She wondered, for a while, if his lips were very thin or if he had any, for she couldn't see them: well, he certainly had something like that, since he wouldn't be able to talk… His cheeks and eyes were so unnaturally sunken he… his head looked like a skull.

She understood now what they meant by calling him the Living Corpse.

"Repulsive, isn't he?" the Shah said. Meg turned quickly towards him, startled by the sympathy in his tone, which stung even more as she felt all the insincerity in it.

A gloat, similar to a hyena's cry, rang in all of the room. Meg trembled as she could clearly see that the laugh obviously came from Erik, but it seemed to come from different places all at the same time.

When he finally stopped, Meg had decided to focus her gaze on her feet.

"Well?" the Shah insisted. "I am waiting for your answer."

Meg came out of her troubled reverie. She glanced at the Shah, then at Erik, at the Shah again, and once again at Erik. She contemplated his face, and Erik was unable to decipher her face. He awaited her answer with some sort of anxiety, his cynicism already seeing her eagerly agreeing with the Shah, while he would announced that she wouldn't escape her terrible fate anyway. Cue the tears.

But Erik saw her swallowing, and he was surprised to see a determined glint in her face.

"No."

Heavy silence installed itself in the room. And of course, for the first time in what seemed like forever, Erik, the feared Angel of Doom, was at a loss for words.

"What do you mean, no?" the Shah finally managed to ask.

She slowly turned to him, and a very small, contrived smile appeared.

"If he is my husband, I owe him respect. And I have no right of speaking of him that way."

Erik's arms fell on each side of him, and he was just conscious enough to keep his mouth shut. His eyes drifted to the Shah, than to Meg, who had lowered her head in an attempt to look as less impertinent as possible. He could see Anouar and Nadir looking at each other, unsure if they had to be amazed, or horrified and worried.

Meg finally glanced at Erik, and saw his chin trembling, and in his eyes, a glimmer of what looked like some sort of misunderstanding but also, gratitude.

A snap of fingers suddenly distracted them. It came from the Shah, and he was quite visibly unpleased that the little spectacle he had wanted to set hadn't turned out like expected. It was time to get to the next act.

"Well, as you can see, your bride-to-be is all ready for this evening. Perhaps now you want to take her home in order to… make a better acquaintance? I don't see what would be wrong with having your wedding night before your wedding… which will be public, of course."

Meg's brain snapped, while her mother, once again, lunged, only to be held back once again. The allusion was just too obvious to be misunderstood.

Well, if she was to be married, it was… rather to be expected. But that it was to be tonight, and with a man she barely knew…

"Fine," Erik snapped. "In that case, if you don't mind, we'll leave immediately."

Meg panicked, looking towards Nadir, hoping he would be able to do something to help her get out of this. She tried being reassured by the fact there was something definitely reassuring in his features. Perhaps Erik wouldn't do anything to her… but she still wasn't sure if she could count on it.

"The… agreement still stands," the Shah said. "You are not to repudiate her, or help her mother or herself escape. Your life will be in danger if you do so… and so will be the Daroga. Well, I don't think he'll be Daroga for very long, with all this…"

Nadir lowered his head in painful resignation, while all Erik could do was to put his mask back on and then bowing, but in a way it was so subtly impertinent it almost seemed like an insult. The Shah, however, didn't seem to notice or ignored his insolence, and had both Erik and Meg dismissed and escorted by some guards out of the throne room. The loud bang made by the doors closing made Meg jump and squeal a bit, while Erik rolled his eyes, and it was only then that she realized that now, she was all on her own.

"Come on," Erik said abruptly. "Let's go to my home."

Meg nodded, swallowed, and followed Erik obediently, but not without looking around for a way to escape. She then realized how foolish it would be to do so – she had nowhere to go, no place to hide, and she could put her mother's life in peril if she did so. She understood now that her mother's life was probably relying on her and Erik: if she made the smallest mistake, Maman would pay it with her life.

Erik lived just beside the palace, and his house integrated itself perfectly with the rest of the surroundings. The only difference is that there didn't seem to be any windows. Meg shivered, imagining how dark it was inside, and for some reason, the black door did nothing to reassure her… and her fears she had had earlier only came back even stronger and gripped her at her throat.

As they arrived, Erik opened the door and gallantly gestured her to go in first.

"After you," he said, his tone as undecipherable as his face under the mask was.

Meg looked wildly at Erik, than at the entrance, so dark she couldn't see the interior. She felt her whole body shake convulsively, and it was only then that she finally broke down, after trying to stay as stoic as possible during all those weeks where she had to stay strong, stay strong for Maman, since for the very first time in her life, she had to be strong for two.

She fell on the ground, rolling herself in a ball, while choked sobs came out, so intense she almost had trouble catching her breath.

She didn't know for how long she stayed that way, completely forgetting about her surroundings and Erik until she felt a hand patting her shoulder. Startled, she look up, to see that Erik had sat just beside her, his mouth twisted, while he was awkwardly trying to comfort her. He obviously wasn't used to do that kind of thing.

Meg sat straight, wiped away her tears, took a deep breath and finally managed to mutter: "I'm sorry, I…"

"Don't be," Erik interrupted her. "You have every reason to be… sad." He had hesitated on the last word. "Sad" was quite the euphemism to describe the state Meg had been in.

"It's just… I guess everything happened so fast. Anyway, I am really sorry, and I have to help my mother, so…" She resembled her courage. "So I guess we can go in, get ready for the night, and we…" She was unable to finish.

"What?" Meg was startled. She turned towards Erik, as she saw in his eyes genuine confusion, which shifted to irritation. "Did you seriously think I was going to take advantage of you like… that?" He seemed so sincerely disgusted Meg couldn't help but feel ashamed. But all her pain from the last weeks culminated, and all she was able to do was to grab the folds of her clothing, her face reddening while her face turned Erik, as she stared at him with all the anger she was capable of.

And it was at that moment that Erik was able to see the resemblance between mother and daughter, and he couldn't help but be a bit… terrified.

"Well why wouldn't I?" she shouted. "You don't know about everything I've been through! For God's sake, I barely know you! Maman didn't even speak of you once! Well, sure, Uncle Nadir does seem to like you, but… I don't know what to think, or what to do, and…" she breathed heavily, as she didn't even find the energy to even continue shouting. She was exhausted. It smacked her like a brick, now.

Erik was now looking at her, solemnly, his golden eyes almost glowing. Meg felt her anger slowly drift away, but she still remained defensive.

"I will not touch you," he said, insisting on every word, as if he was making a promise. "I never will, except if you permit me to do so." He chuckled. "I doubt that will ever happen, though. I am intent on… caring for you, since I guess I have the duty of caring for you, since your mother isn't here."

"I can care for myself," Meg replied with a hint of annoyance.

"I'm sure you can," Erik said, and Meg was surprised that he was actually sincere. "But in such a deadly land, you won't be able to do so on your own. Let's just say you'll need a little… help. And right now… I think you need some rest in a proper bed."

Erik got up, and bowed down, presenting his hand to Meg in order to help her get up. But, probably in an attempt to show how much of an independent young lady she was, Meg got up on her own, and was attentive enough to see a glint of amusement in Erik's eyes. She saw him taking a torch that was hung just beside the door outside, entering his home, and using to light the hall. Meg finally dared to enter, only to see that another door was separating the hall from some mystery room.

When Erik opened the door, Meg could only gasp in amazement.

The palace had been grand and rich, but full of dread, but here… Meg's fantasies came true in front of her very eyes.

There were candles everywhere, providing a soft lighting. The room where they had entered was a sort of parlor, with a piano being somehow the room's centerpiece. Instead of the divans and chairs Meg was used to see, she saw cushions instead, and at some of them had little tables beside them. One of them even had an unfinished chess game, which somehow gave her a sense of reassurance, as she remembered how Monsieur Reyer had taught her how to play.

And of course, a hundred questions came to her.

"Why do you have so many candles?"

"I happen not to be fortunate enough to see in the dark."

"Then why aren't there any windows?"

"It could get hot here if there were some. This place is built to stay at a stable temperature at all times."

"And do you play the piano?"

Erik suddenly looked somewhat offended. "If you think I have an instrument as some sort of vulgar decoration…"

"Well, no… I mean… it's lovely! I never thought you would since you're, well, an architect…"

"I am many things, you know," Erik replied darkly. This only whipped up Meg's curiosity even more, but for once, she managed to hold her tongue. But she lifted up her head and smiled a bit. "Could you play something for me? A lullaby? Just before going to sleep for the night… if you don't mind, of course."

She was surprised to see him smile back. It was shy, but at the same time, she couldn't help but find it so genuine.

"Of course," he said. "I'll lead you to my bedroom. You'll sleep there until I arrange something for you."

"Oh… that's very thoughtful. But… where will you sleep?"

"I'll find myself a spot. I don't sleep much, anyway. And as you might already have guessed, I don't have many guests, so to say. But you'll hear me play very well from where you'll be. The house has excellent acoustics. It can get handy. You never know what can happen…" His dark tone did nothing to reassure Meg's growing but still unsteady sense of safety.

"What… you mean…" she blubbered.

"Don't worry about yourself. I'm here."

"Oh. Of course." During their dialog, they had existed the parlor, arriving in a corridor lit by torches where Erik pushed a door for both of them to enter a bedroom which was also candlelit and looked every bit as comfortable as the parlor… if it wasn't for everything, including even the bed's sheets, being… black. Meg immediately thought of a funeral as she gazed around, and only became even more uncomfortable as she thought of the person who usually slept there.

The Living Corpse.

"Perhaps you're used to more… cheery colors," Erik said somewhat snidely. "But this is only temporary."

"I'm fine. I really am," Meg replied, annoyed by Erik's derisive tone. "Anyway, I'm certain you are such a maestro you playing the piano will get me asleep quickly," she added with a cheeky smile.

"I'll let you judge by yourself," Erik said. Meg was able to see a glimmer of smugness mixed with some sort of mischief in his eyes, as he bowed in a way it was obvious he just kept on teasing her. He closed the door behind him, leaving Meg alone as she took off her slippers and the jewelry she was given. But, without a nightgown, she was forced to keep the rest of her clothes on.

She slipped in the bed, trying to ignore the black sheets as much as she could and closed her eyes, thankful that the candlelight was dim enough for her not to be disturbed by their light.

She finally heard the sound of a piano echoing through the walls.

Meg opened her eyes and gasped. The melody was soft and somehow dreamy, but for some reason, it reminded her of… herself. She almost heard the sound of her voice in it, similar to a little bird's, and with some sort of lightness and innocence in all its pluckiness. It was familiar. And for tonight at least, she felt safe.

All was left for her to do was to close her eyes and fall in a peaceful sleep.