Chapter Text
Erik spent the rest of the night in his room, working on his compositions, and it was only when he heard a noise coming from the living room that he remembered his plans from the night before.
He walked out quickly, only to be met with the sight of the girl sitting on the chaise longue , her dress now slightly wrinkled, looking around as if she was in some sort of a castle instead of a prison.
“You have a very beautiful house”, she said as a greeting.
“Thank you. I take it you are well-rested?”
“I am, thank you”, she smiled.
“Good, very good”, he ran his hands over his coat as if trying to smooth any wrinkles and then offered her his arm. “Well, I would like you to come with me, if you don’t mind. We’re… Going for a walk.”
The girl’s smile grew larger and she all but jumped to her feet and held his arm.
However, as he opened the door that would lead them out to Rue Scribe, Erik staggered backwards. Sunlight invaded the small corridor, telling him it was too late to go out in the streets safely even with his fedora hat and cloak. His plan was ruined.
Christina stared at him with curiosity as Erik tried to find a way to tell her that they were not going outside today, when it hit him.
She could go outside. She could run away, find her way back to her father wherever he was. The daylight would ensure her protection, as long as she kept away from dark, deserted alleyways. He would lock this door from inside in case the girl came back with her father, and even if they managed to put the door down, the man would get lost in the dark corridors, perhaps even fall into one of his traps.
It was the perfect outcome.
He closed the door and turned to the girl.
“Mademoiselle, I’m afraid I must… Refrain from our walk. For my safety. I beg for your comprehension.”
She nodded with a kind smile. Though she never mentioned it, he knew she must have guessed what hid underneath the mask. She knew he was a monster and she would never dismiss a chance to escape.
“However, I know I cannot deny you nourishment, of course.” He handed her a purse of coins he had decided to take with them in case her father demanded some sort of reparation. “Take this, go to the boulangerie , fetch us some bread, cheese, fresh fruits… Other things you like to eat as well. Feel free to spend this as you see fit. Then, when you come back, we will have our petit déjeuner . Can you please do that?”
“ Oui , Monsieur.”
Erik opened the door, setting her free, and tried his best to smile, though he was aware it likely resembled a grimace. He had given her enough money to buy the entire bakery, not only the food itself but also the ovens, ingredients and tools, perhaps even the building. He hoped her father was an honorable man who would spend the money on his daughter’s wellbeing, and not in drinking and gambling.
A long time had passed when he heard what sounded like banging. It seemed that the man was a good father after all, willing to fight for his daughter’s honor.
He slowly walked towards the door, his Punjab lasso out and ready to be put to use, and was startled to hear, among the seemingly endless banging, what sounded like a sob.
“Monsieur, please! Are you there? Please, open the door!”
She was back ?
Erik rushed to the door and all but slammed it open. He noticed a surge of relief washed over the girl’s tear-stricken face.
“Oh, thank goodness! I was starting to think it had been a scam!”, she said as she grabbed a few bags from the floor and walked in.
Erik took the heaviest bags from her so she could hold his arm on their way back to his house, and so she did. Her crying had subsided during their journey, but she sniffed every now and then. Once they were inside, she took one of the heavy bags to the Louis-Phillippe room while he proceeded to the kitchen to provide breakfast.
After rummaging through the groceries, he picked a loaf of bread, butter, sliced pears, a smaller piece of sweet bread and some tea. About thirty minutes later, when the table was set and the water was close to boiling, the girl walked back into the kitchen. Erik noticed she had brushed her hair and changed into a pale pink dress.
Well, he did tell her to spend the money as she saw fit, but Erik had no clue as to why she had brought her new clothes and accessories back to his house. He wanted to question her, but after noticing the way her eyes lingered over the bread, he decided it could wait until she was fed.
Her manners at the table were more than acceptable, which pleased him greatly for some reason. After she had eaten the bread and almost all the pear slices Erik had sorted for her and was politely sipping her tea, he decided it was as good a time for some questions as any.
“Mademoiselle…”
“Christine”, she corrected him.
Christine , then. Not Christina. What an odd thing, Erik mused, for a father to misspeak his own daughter’s name, even in an inebriated state as the man from the night before was. Well, he was not to dwell on such things.
“Christine. I… I must clarify one thing. I am not holding on to the bet that was made last night. You are free to go back to your family, they must be worried sick about you.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I should not have accepted your father’s proposition yesterday, I simply assumed he was referring to the cat, and honestly I only accepted it because I wanted things to be over with and he would not allow me to refuse. But I am certain he regrets it now. That is, of course, if the amount of drinks he ingested allows him to even remember anything. When I sent you shopping earlier today, I assumed you would run away, find your way back home. The door was locked because I didn’t want to confront your father.”
“What? Dear Lord, no! Thérnadier is not my father!”
“He… Is not?”
“No, Monsieur. You see, my father, my real father, died when I was a child, and left me with my tutors, Monsieur and Madame Valerius, but they were elderly and passed, too, a few years ago. I was alone and met Monsieur Thérnadier and his wife. But they treated me more like a slave than anything else.” Christine’s eyes then filled with tears. “Please, Monsieur. I want to stay here. I will not bother you much, I will not even leave my room if that is what you desire. But please, don’t send me back there. I beg you.”
Erik was speechless. He had witnessed women react in numerous manners throughout his life, but never had one of them stayed by his side willingly. Granted, for Christine it was either living with him or going back to being enslaved by some filthy man, but still.
Before getting his hopes too high, though, he would make one final attempt.
“I am certain there is someone else who would be delighted to have you. An aunt, maybe? A family friend?”
Christine sniffled and was silent for a moment.
“When I was a child, my father and I spent some time by the sea, in Perros-Guirec. There was…”, she blushed. “There was a boy who I became friends with. He met my father and they liked each other very much. I remember his family was from Paris.”
“Well, then it is settled. If you want to, we can go looking for them today. What is his name?”
“Raoul.”
Erik waited for her to give him her friend’s full name, but she didn’t.
“Do you know his family name?”
Christine frowned.
“I… Don’t remember. I was a kid and…”, she sighed. “All I know is that it was a fancy name. And he had an older brother named Phillippe.”
Erik suppressed the urge to huff and roll his eyes. They were in France , for goodness’ sake, Phillippe was a very common name. Sure Christine knew that? And a lot of Parisian families had what could be called fancy names. This had not been helpful at all.
“Well, it is going to be difficult without a family name, but I am sure we can find your friend. Until then, and only until then, you can stay.”
He ignored the small part of him that, seeing Christine’s huge smile, hoped they would never find the boy.