Chapter Four

Christine sat on the stool in front of her vanity, tears tracking down her face as she thought of how Erik had yelled at her. Had she made the right decision to take care of him? Or would it have been better to wait for the doctor to be summoned? She knew one thing though. She would avoid him adamantly now. Someone knocked on her door.

"Come in." She called, brushing the tears away with her fingers.

Erik's valet opened the door, "From the king, Your Highness." He held out a single rose with a note tied to the stem with a black ribbon. Christine hesitantly took the rose, and the man bowed then left.

She walked back to the stool in front of her vanity. Christine looked at the folded note with 'My Queen' written on the front in a flowing hand. Contemplating throwing both the rose and the note into the fire, she stared at herself in the mirror. Christine pulled the ribbon loose and unfolded the note.

Christine – I'm terribly sorry for yelling at you. I was still upset from what you had said to me. I hope you will forgive me. – Erik

Christine looked up at the adjoining door through the mirror. Before she could start crying again she crossed to the fireplace and tossed the note and rose into the flames. The note turned to ash within seconds, while the rose burned more slowly. Once she was satisfied that both were no more, she went to the connecting door and slid the bolt home, locking the door. Christine then left her bedroom and went down one flight of stairs to the, thankfully, empty library. She went straight to the desk by the windows and pulled a sheet of paper from the drawer. Dipping the quill into the bottle of ink, she began a letter to her parents.

Dear Mother, Papa, and Albert,

I'm married to Erik now and have been crowned Queen of Britain. Erik's parents are kind to me. Alice has promised to teach me how to assist in ruling the kingdom. But this life is not all happiness and joy. On the morning of our wedding I told him in a note that I would not be sharing a bedroom with him, but would sleep in the room next to his. A door separates our rooms. We did share a bed that night but we didn't consummate the marriage, which I'm grateful for.

The next morning I woke up and he asked me what I meant by the words I had written the day before. I told him that I meant exactly what I had written, that we would not sleep in the same room. When he asked why I told him that I was not comfortable around him then left for my own room. That same day his mother and I were in the gardens talking when one of the knights told us that Erik had been cut very badly on the arm. I called up the medicinal knowledge that my tutor had taught me. And when we got him up the his room and I had stitched his wound closed, he developed a fever. So I stayed by his side, keeping him cool and forcing liquids down his throat.

Two days later I accidentally fell asleep only to be woken up an hour later by him thrashing next to me from a nightmare. I found that his fever had broken and he woke up. Then he yelled at me for the things I had said to him on our wedding day and the next day. So I left the room as quickly as I could, but he must have seen my tears. So I was sitting at my vanity crying when his valet knocked on my door with a rose and a note. I read the note then threw both it and the rose into the fireplace. I was so upset.

I miss you. All of you. I wish you had been able to come to my wedding. How are you feeling Albert? I hope your leg has healed. I will write to you soon. I love you all very much.

With love, Queen Christine Delose of Britain

Christine folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope. She then addressed it and sealed the envelope with the Delose family crest. Once that was done she stood up and went in search of her mother-in-law. She found Alice taking tea in the parlor.

Alice set her teacup down on the saucer when Christine appeared at the door. "Christine my dear. Come in, come in." She indicted the spot next to her on the couch. Then she noticed the tear tracks on the young woman's face. "What's happened Christine? Is it Erik? Has his fever gotten worse?"

Christine sat next to Alice on the couch. "Erik's fine. His fever broke early this morning." She felt tears sliding down her cheeks again and quickly brushed them away. "He got mad at me when I told him that I'd been the one to take care of him. He told me that I was only taking care of him because I felt bad for him."

"Oh Christine. I'm sure Erik didn't mean to yell at you." Alice set her cup and saucer on the small table next to the teapot and took Christine's hands. "He's a gentle person in heart and mind. He'll calm down quickly. And the Coronation Masquerade Ball is next week"

"Coronation ball?" Christine sniffled.

"Yes. Whenever a new king and queen are crowned, a ball is thrown by the former king and queen, if they're still alive." Alice wiped the last few tears from Christine's face. "You and I'll be going into town tomorrow to the seamstress to have the best costumes made. Erik and his father are coming with us."

Christine smiled. "Would it be alright if you and I went to town today instead of tomorrow? I don't want to be around Erik right now."

"Of course dear. We can go now." Alice stood, "Let me go and have the carriage prepared. Then we'll be on our way."

"Thank you Alice." Christine stood and went to her room for her cloak.

Christine and Alice met at the stables ten minutes later and the carriage brought them into town. Four mounted guards accompanied them. They walked down the street with the guards tailing them from a distance. When they came upon the seamstress shop, Alice pulled Christine through the front door.

The proprietor, a woman by the name of Marie, met them as they walked in. She shooed the other customers out the door, telling them to return later. "What can I do for the queen and past queen?"

"Marie, Christine and I are in need of costumes for the coronation ball next week." Alice said.

Marie smiled. "I had a feeling that was what you were in need of. I just received an order of fabric. Your Majesty I have just the color for you." She led Christine and Alice to the fitting room. "I just need your measurements. I already have Al... I mean, Her Grace's measurements." She took Christine's measurements from head to toe.

Alice laughed. "Marie. We've known each other since we were little. You may call me Alice."

"Alright. Alice, I have the perfect shade of green silk for you. And Your Majesty, You would look breathtaking in this deep red silk I ordered." Marie finished writing down the measurements for Christine then led the two women back into the front room. The three poured through the books of patterns Marie offered, finally finding the perfect design for Christine's gown. Lace and jewels were added to the order, along with gloves and a mask. Soon after they found a design for a gown for Alice, and a mask was added to that order as well. Finally, all the plans were in place, and Christine and Alice left the shop.

Christine stayed silent in the carriage back to the castle. She took the back staircase to her chambers, thankful that Erik wasn't around. She sat down at her vanity and was brushing her hair when a grandfather clock in the hallway chimed six. Christine knew it was time for dinner and she knew that Erik would be there. She didn't get up from her chair, but kept brushing her hair. She would not go down to dinner tonight. She would rather starve than be around that man.

Erik sat in his chair at the high table in the great hall, glancing nervously at the door every few minutes to see if Christine would come down. He had been waiting for twenty minutes and she hadn't appeared.

Finally, Erik had had enough. He stood up, apologized to his parents, and left the room. Taking the steps two at a time he arrived at Christine's door in no time. He knew he would have to use this door because he had tried the connecting door earlier and had found it locked from her side. He felt sweat break out on the exposed section of his forehead and hastily wiped his free hand across the moisture. Knocking Erik waited for her to answer. When no sound came from the room he knocked again. Then a third time.

Finally, when Erik began to worry, Christine's voice floated through the door, allowing him to go enter. She sat at her vanity with her back to him. Her elbows rested on the wood and her head was in her palms. Erik mentally kicked himself for his behavior that morning. He crossed the room on silent feet and stood directly behind her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Her head snapped up and she glared at his reflection through the mirror. "What are you doing here. Come to yell at me some more?"

Erik gave himself another mental kick. Why had he yelled at her in the first place? He turned her stool around so she was facing him, then he got down on his knees and took her hand with the hand that wasn't in the sling. "Christine I'm so sorry for the way I treated you. I wasn't mad at you. I was mad at myself and I lashed out at the first person I saw. And that was y-" He stopped, looked around, then turned back to face her. "Did my valet not give you my note?"

"No. He delivered them. I was just so upset and angry that I threw them into the fire." Christine looked away. "I'm sorry too. I should have let the doctor take care of you instead of doing it myself." She hung her head.

Erik put his finger under her chin and lifted her face so they made eye contact. "Christine, listen to me. If you had waited for the doctor I wouldn't be here. You saved my life." He saw the tears making their way down her face and wiped them away with his thumb. Then he remembered the ball. "Christine, did Mother tell you about the coronation ball?"

Christine smiled, "She told me earlier and we went to get our costumes. I assume you know that you and your father will be getting your own costumes tomorrow."

"Yes. Father told me this afternoon." He laughed, "Mother also gave me a fine ribbing when she got home about the way I treated you this morning." He kissed her hand. "Now I have to ask. Will you forgive me for my behavior?"

She blushed. "Yes. You're forgiven."

Erik embraced her, wrapping his arm around her as tightly as he could with his injured arm between them. She returned the embrace. "Now, were you planning on coming to dinner this evening?" He stood.

"No. But I believe my mind has been changed. I would love to go to dinner."

He held out his arm. "Shall we?"

Christine smiled. "We shall."

The week before the ball passed quickly with only minor issues that were handled well. Erik stood in the hall in front of Christine's door waiting for his queen to emerge. She had taken the stitches out of his arm that day and announced that the injury was healed as long as he didn't do anything too strenuous. When the door finally opened and his wife appeared, he nearly swallowed his tongue, cursing the gods who had created this seductive vision. Her dark red dress hugged her torso and pushed her breasts up above the low neckline. The skirt flared out from her hips and fell softly to the floor. She held a red mask in her gloved hands, and the crown she had received at their wedding sat on top of her head. Her curls fell down her back, except a few that were pulled back away from her face.

Erik managed to regain the use of his tongue and moved in front of his wife. He couldn't resist planting a kiss on her upturned lips. He took her mask and stepped behind her to tie the ribbons together. He then offered his arm and led her down the stairs to the landing at the top of the grand staircase on one side of the throne room.

Christine looked up at her husband. "You look very handsome My King."

Erik smiled down at her and replied. "And you look beautiful My Queen."

Christine gulped, so many masked faces. She noticed that her husband's mask was deep red and matched hers in style, minus the lace and ribbons. She surveyed his costume, black boots, red trousers and jacket, and a white shirt. He also wore his crown, as was customary. That would make it easier to find him if they were separated during the evening.

They had just reached the bottom of the stairs when a woman with pale blonde hair sashayed up in front of them. She wore a green gown with her breasts pushed up so high that it was very close to scandalous. And it looked as thought if she even so little as coughed, her bodice would rip open. She looked at Christine, smirked, then turned her attention to Erik. "Erik, It's so nice to see you again."

"Giselle."

"How long it has been since we last saw each other. I believe I should call you King Erik now." She batted her eyelashes. She turned to Christine. "And you are?" She looked bored.

Before Christine could speak, Erik answered. "This is my wife and the queen, Christine Delose."

Giselle looked shocked for an instant. Wife? There was no way this slip of a woman could hold Erik's attention for long. Giselle herself may not have been able to get Erik yet, but she would soon. Just a bit of seduction and he would be all hers. This, Christine, would be all but a distant memory once Erik knew what Giselle offered. She surveyed Christine's costume before dismissing her again. "So Erik, would you like to dance?"

Erik didn't even bat an eye, "I'm sorry Giselle. But all of my dances are reserved for my queen."

"You couldn't spare one dance for me?" Giselle's voice dripped with a seductive air. She sidled closer and rested her hand on Erik's arm.

Christine did her best to contain her temper. Who was this woman who thought she could push her way between the two of them? Obviously she and Erik weren't lovers as Erik didn't seem to be showing any interest in her. Maybe a childhood friend? No. That didn't seem plausible either. Christine also noticed that Erik was holding back a grimace, as Giselle's hand was resting right over where he had been injured. The woman, however, seemed oblivious to whatever pain she was causing. She was too busy batting her eyelashes at Erik.

Erik freed his arm from Christine's and practically shoved Giselle's hand off his arm then wrapped his arm possessively around Christine's waist, pulling her flush against his side. "No. As I said, all my dances are promised to my wife."

Giselle's face turned a blotchy red as she huffed. She turned on her heel and marched away. Erik and Christine watched her go before looking at each other and laughing.

"I think you made her mad." Christine whispered when their laughter died down.

"She deserved it." He took her in his arms and swept her into the crowd of dancing couples.

"Well, she'd better get the hint that you're married and unavailable now." Christine's eyes flashed fire. "I noticed you were in pain when she was touching your arm, right where I had just taken the stitches out. I was doing my best to keep my anger in check."

"Why my queen, are you a wildcat under the surface?" Erik grinned. "Maybe I should find out." He pulled her off the floor and into the hallway. Leading her to a secluded corner he turned her around so her back was to the wall, tipped her head up, and covered her lips with his.

Christine stiffened for a moment then melted against him. Her mouth softened beneath his and she let her fingers grip the lapels of his jacket. Bracing his palms against the wall on either side of her head, he kept control of the kiss, to the best of his ability. He ran his tongue across the seam of her mouth and his tongue invaded her mouth when she parted her lips.

Erik groaned against her mouth when she responded, pulling her flush against his own tormented body. Her breasts pushed against his chest while her hips nestled against the evidence of his manhood contained in his trousers. He released her lips when they were both breathless. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and his resolve very nearly snapped. He settled for claiming her lips over and over, wrapping his arms around her waist while her hands crept up to lock around his neck, her fingers sifting through the hairs at the nape of his neck. She sighed into his mouth, a soft sound that went right to Erik's loins. He had to stop, before he did something that wasn't meant for the public eye.

He finally released her, breathing heavily. Christine looked at him and blushed. Erik looked her over, making sure she looked presentable, taking deep breaths to give his arousal time to die down. When he knew he was calm he took her hand and led her back to the throne room. Thank God no one had missed them.

Erik led his wife in several more dances before Giselle pushed her way into his arms. He remained stiff and mechanical, unlike the grace he had used when dancing with Christine. He tried to walk away from her at the end of the song but she wouldn't let him go, latching on to him when he tried to pull away. The same thing happened twice more. Giselle chattered away about everything, from the decor to the people who were well on their way to drunkenness.

Erik gritted his teeth to contain his anger, looking around the room for his queen. He spotted her standing alone by the stairs. As he watched she turned and picked up her skirts, racing up the stairs and disappearing through the door at the end the balcony. He pried Giselle's arms away and raced after Christine, leaving the devil woman standing there alone. He didn't care, he hated her either way. He just wanted to get to his wife. Christine had taken the hall that led to the old guard tower.

That tower was abandoned and never used. The roof had caught fire and caved in some when it was struck by lightning during a storm years ago, and had never been repaired. Erik's father had ruled that since the tower was the tallest in the castle, it was the most likely to get struck by lightning and destroyed again in the event of another terrible storm. Two of the family's guards had lost their lives when the tower caught fire. Callum and Johns both left behind wives and small children. Callum's daughter had just been born and his son was ten when he died. Johns' daughter had been seven. Neither of their wives remarried, although they both had had plenty of suitors at the beginning. But eventually they drove the hopeful men off. Ever since the accident, no one ever went into the tower, they all knew the story. Except Christine. No one had told her.

He had barely started to climb the stairs before he heard the heavy wooden door at the top slam. Erik double-timed it the rest of the way, taking the stairs two at a time, thoroughly hating himself for not getting away from Giselle sooner. What must his wife be thinking? Erik had never touched a woman the way he had touched Christine. But she didn't know that. His mind swam, trying to find a way to explain that he had never liked Giselle. He had seen right through her annoying ploys to get his affection. He knew Giselle only wanted the throne because she was a gold-digger. He had to make Christine see that he loved her, not Giselle.

Love? Erik stopped just before he reached the last few steps that wound around the inside of the tower. Yes. He loved her. He loved Christine with all of his heart. He wanted desperately to tell her. But how would she take it? Giselle was a tramp who welcomed the affections of all men. She had most likely bedded the entire population of wealthy and titled men, single as well as married. Erik was the only one who had resisted her advances as far as he knew. He had seen right through her syrupy comments and unwelcome ploys. How she had even been invited to this ball he did not know.

His top priority was his wife. He stopped at the door to the turret, took a deep breath, then pushed it open. What he saw nearly sent him to the floor. His wife sat on the floor in front of a broken window. Shards of glass lay around her. She was watching blood seep from a long cut on her palm.

"Christine." Erik regained his muscle movement and rushed to her side. Taking her arm gently in his hand he inspected the cut. It was not on her wrist, which was good. It wasn't very deep either. "What happened?"

Christine didn't look at him, just continued to watch the blood drip onto the floor. "I got up here and was exhausted so I tried to lean my hand against the wall by the window but the wall was wet and my hand slipped and went through the glass."

"Christine. This tower is never used. There was a fire here a few years ago that killed two of our guards. A bad thunderstorm. Lightning hit this tower because it's the tallest tower in the castle. Do you see how some of the roof is caved in and there are scorch marks?" He waited for her to look up and nod. "They're from the fire. This tower is forbidden to everyone. My father forbade the repair of this tower because he didn't wish anyone to suffer the same fate. I didn't even remember to tell you about this tower. But you have to promise me to never come back up here."

"I promise." Christine nodded.

Erik looked at the broken window. It was an older window with thin glass that was flimsy and easy to break. He was about to help his wife to stand when her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted. He caught her before her back landed on the floor. He picked her up and slowly carried her through the door, down the stairs, and to his room. He took the long way, taking the extra door in the base of the tower that led to another hallway, avoiding the throne room. When he spotted a servant walking towards them he stopped the girl and asked her to find clean rags and warm water. He also told the girl to have his parents apologize the to guests for their absence the rest of the evening. The girl curtsied and raced off to gather the things he had asked for and tell his parents what he had instructed. His arm hurt a little, but he bit back the pain. His wife was his top priority at this time.

Erik kicked the open door to his chambers, carrying his wife to the bed where he laid her on top of the mattress, thankful that the servants had not remade his bed. He was about to pull the sheets over his wife when he realized that he should wake her to help her change into her nightgown. "Christine. Darling wake up." He whispered as he shook her shoulder. When her eyes remained closed he sat back. Then remembered the only way to wake a sleeping beauty was to kiss her. He planted his palms on either side of her shoulders and set his lips across hers. He kept the kiss chaste, then watched as her eyelids fluttered open. "Hello darling." He grinned at her. "We need to get you out of that dress before you can go to sleep."

She nodded and sat up so Erik could undo the laces at the back of her dress, leaving her in her shift. He picked up the dress and laid it on the arm chair by the fireplace. He then went behind the screen and changed out of his own costume into the trousers he used when he slept. The young servant knocked on the door and entered, carrying a tray with a bowl of chicken broth, the rags, and another bowl filled with water. Erik thanked the girl and she left the room. He set the tray on the nightstand next to where his wife sat against the wall on the bed.

He dipped a rag in the water and cleansed the dried blood from the cut on her hand. Once the blood was gone he wrapped a strip of white cloth around Christine's hand and tucked the end under the layers. Erik then picked up the bowl of broth and the spoon. "darling you need to drink this." He held out the spoon and coaxed her to swallow all the liquid in the bowl, spoonful by spoonful. Christine stayed silent as he fed her. "I'm so sorry for what Giselle did. I never liked her. She's been trying for years to sink her talons in my back. She's slept with most of the titled men in the country." He sighed dejectedly. "She's made many advances on me, but I've remained immune to her."

Christine finally spoke up. "She's a tramp. Isn't she?"

Erik stared at her. His wife had never said anything like that before. He was right, she was a wildcat under that prim and proper exterior. "She is." He noticed Christine's eyes began to droop.

"Darling, I think it's time you get some rest. It's been a long day." He was exhausted himself. He set the empty bowl on the tray, brought the tray out into the hall, and pulled on the string to call a servant to come and get it.

He walked back to the bed where Christine was already laying on her side, fast asleep. He pulled the covers over her, then climbed in on his side. Erik blew out the candle and lay on his side, facing Christine's back. He couldn't resist lifting a lock of her brown hair and letting it fall between his fingers. He let his eyelids close and drifted off into a mindless slumber.

So, Erik knows that he loves Christine. But she doesn't know that he does. She's warming up to him, the moment of jealousy got her passionate side kickin'. Now they might finally have a wedding night. Maybe they will. Maybe they won't. Let's see. If you're liking this story please look for that follow/fav button and please click on it. Also write a review. I love reading them. But please keep the negative comments to zero. The last thing I want to see is people bashing my writing. Thank you for all your support.