Christine closed her eyes and allowed herself to become consumed by Erik's kiss. His tongue and lips were persistent and Christine could almost taste this love he had just said he had for her. But it was all a lie, Natasha knew it and so did Erik. He had said those words because Christine would have died if he had not. Christine wished that they were true and the fact that they were not hurt her deeply. She was sure that Natasha had anticipated such feelings. Erik pulled away slowly, his lips lingering on hers. He laid his forehead against hers and Christine smiled at him. Several people in the crowd let out a breath of relief.
He had sounded believable. All eyes turned to Natasha, wondering what she was going to say about what had just happened. Natasha was trembling and several tears had slipped past her guard and she wiped them away furiously with her hand, hating the fact that she was weak enough to cry.
"I do not believe you."
A gun was aimed and fired.
xXx
Persia
1863
Emma smiled softly to herself and pulled her sleeping three year old son just a little more closer to her as she walked in the gardens. Erik had been tired that day and had asked if he could go to bed early. Emma had told him to rest up and sent him on his way. They had been in Persia a few months now and she was beginning to like it more and more. Perhaps it was because of the fact that it was Nadir's homeland. Sometimes, when she went out to the market, she would look for him, wondering and hoping that perhaps he had come back to his roots and she might be able to see him.
It had been three long years since she had laid eyes on the man she loved. Her father, as a cruel joke, had told them that they were going to Persia on a long holiday and Emma knew he had only made such a decision because of the fact that she missed Nadir so much and he happened to be from Persia. The only thing that had kept Emma going the past three years was the little boy in her arms and Erik. Without them she did not know what she would do.
Anthony was the pride and joy of her life and Erik had quickly taken to him as well, and he liked spending time with the young toddler. Erik, a boy of ten now, was growing into a handsome young man. He was becoming far to smart for his age and the things in Persia fascinated him.
She knew that he never left her side that much because he was always afraid something was going to happen to her. Emma would never tell him that Isaac had begun selling her to his friends for a profit and had even used her himself when he had become extremely intoxicated. Emma had felt dirty for weeks and spent hours in a hot bath, trying to rid herself of the smell of him on her and the feeling of him pressing her into the mattress. She would have left when it had first happened but they threatened Anthony's life constantly and there was always someone watching her, making sure she did not try anything idiotic. If Erik found out about these occurrences with Isaac she knew he would hate himself for not being able to protect her. But he was only a boy of ten and she refused to put such a weight on his young shoulders.
He had already seen far too much and it had made him harsh to everyone with the exception of herself. She knew he would never be mean or cruel to her. They loved one another so much. But when it came to the rest of her family, her two brothers and her father, there was a hatred Erik had for them that went much deeper then a ten year old should be able to feel.
Emma knew that if she were to tell Erik about what her brother was doing he would try and kill him and Isaac would kill Erik with a single blow. She would not risk his life like that, she refused to. She would do what she had to to make sure her son and Erik were safe and happy. Anything she had to do would be done. There was no way around it.
"Mademoiselle, it is rather late to be out alone," a strange voice said. Emma turned to see a man standing on the other side of the gate that surrounded the manor and the gardens. He was handsome but Emma had a deep distrust for gentlemen of late and she was alone and it was dark.
"Indeed, Monsieur, but it far to beautiful outside to waste ones time inside," she said politely.
"I must agree about the night sky...beautiful," he murmured. But he was not looking at the sky; he was looking at Emma, illuminated by the soft moonlight. Emma blushed when she noticed his stare and pulled the still sleeping Anthony closer.
"Is it not late for a gentleman like yourself to be walking the streets?" Emma wondered. She heard him chuckle and it was a deep and inviting sound.
"I find it is easier to think when one is by oneself," he said. Emma arched an elegant brow.
"You have much on your mind, Monsieur?" she wondered, not liking the fact that he seemed comfortable to be around.
"I think of the two of us you have more on your mind then I," he said. Emma said nothing, knowing that was why she had come out into the gardens. She had Anthony with her because she was afraid of one of her brothers trying something when she was not around. That was why she kept him at her side constantly. Erik was in no risk of harm, her family ignored him completely, not thinking he was one of the family.
"I have not met many French like myself, you are on holiday?" he asked.
"Yes, and yourself?" she wondered. Why in Heaven's name was she having a conversation with this stranger?
"Holiday as well," he answered. Emma heard her father shout her name and she glanced back at the house with a sigh.
"I should be going," she said sadly. He was the first man she had been able to have a conversation with since Nadir.
"Alright," he said, a little reluctantly. Emma smiled and went to the gate, stretching out her hand.
"I am Emma Delauney, by the way," she said. The gentleman smiled.
"Gustave Daae."