Chapter 48: Not So Useless Titles

i need you
i need me
to be the best
we can be

woman
wife
you surround
wondrous titles
run aground

i fear you
you fear me
and
all too soon
we
chase the sun
but
catch the moon

darling
beloved
i lose sight
of all the words
we speak each night

"not so useless titles" By Nyasia A. Maire © 2007

The three friends erupted into hearty laughter as the Marquis muttered under his breath while shaking his head in disgust at the undignified behavior of his offspring.

Christine then surprised the brothers by suddenly changing the topic.

"I wish that my magic could help you both by changing the way people think."

Her eyes slid in the direction of their father and mother. She spoke softly.

"But, I have a feeling that time is the only magic weapon you can wield in this battle. Well, perhaps not. Perhaps, love is the only other weapon in your arsenal that you may employ. Time and love may conquer all. I suggest the two of you Romeos need to make the opening move this afternoon. I have two truisms for you that apply: tempus fugit and carpe diem."

She smiled gently and placed a hand on each of her friend's shoulders. Then, without warning, she gave the two of them a firm push in the direction of their parents.

Raoul looked to his older brother and sighed.

"I suppose since I have already asked for my lady's hand, I am the one that should begin."

He cleared his throat and began to state his case to his parents.

"Well, that went better than I thought it would. Although, I suppose being confronted with the united front of the two brothers as well as the implied threat of never seeing their grandchildren provided all the impetus required to push them into approving Raoul and Meg's nuptials."

Erik nuzzled his lips against his wife's neck.

"Indeed. And, I think that poor La Sorelli shall need to find another patron. Did you see the look on Phillipe's face? The man is completely smitten. The war was lost without a single shot fired. Today, bachelors the world over mourn for the loss of their fallen leader."

Erik smirked.

"If anyone mourns, they mourn the fact that he is completely unaware of his infatuation. When Madame accepted that brandy from him, I thought he would faint! She is perfect for him. I just hope that this relationship will not upset Meg. After all, if Madame and Phillipe marry, she and Meg shall be sisters-in-law. A more than slightly strange way of thinking about ones own mother. Do you not think so, Erik?"

The man mumbled his response as he nibbled his wife's earlobe and she let out a small squeal.

"Oh, Erik, are you certain we need to go to the opera house now? Can this not wait for another day? I would really like to go home and well, I would like you to show me a few more breathing exercises. I really liked the ones we worked on last night..."

"Woman, you truly are insatiable!"

He enveloped her in a tight embrace and muttered.

"And, I love it that you are! Ma chère, please know that I feel the same unquenchable desire for you."

They sat within the carriage, their bodies entangled as they expressed their ever-increasing ardor. Their hands roving and searching, squeezing and caressing, until the man and woman felt themselves reduced to breathless, mindless husks. Erik thought that his brain would certainly perish from lack of blood circulation soon if Christine did not cease her ministrations to his cock. In turn, Christine felt an exalted sense of freedom. To be able to love Erik completely and without the shadow of Lilith in her mind was an ecstasy previously unknown to her. She was completely free.

The carriage lurched and jerked to a stop. Erik groaned and attempted to bring his body back under his control.

"Well, Madame Rossignol ¹, it appears that we have arrived at the opera house."

"This feels so strange. I lived here twelve years. I know every hallway, every room, every hidden passage, but now that I am with you, now that I am here as your wife, I feel as if I am a complete stranger here. The opera house is the same, I suppose. Only I have changed."

She smiled shyly.

"I hope I have changed for the better, mon amour."

He returned her smile with a wicked one of his own.

"Oui, ma chère, you become more wondrous and enchanting with each passing day. Ah! Yes, here we are!"

He led the confused woman out onto the stage.

"And now, mon mari ², will you tell me why we are here? Or must I resort to torturing you with my tiny fingers? Hmmm?"

She wriggled her delightfully dexterous digits in the direction of his waist and leered at him. Suddenly, she straightened and whirled about as she heard someone's throat clear. The speed of her movement startled Erik, causing him to take a step back from her.

"I suppose in a roundabout way I have Lilith to thank for Christine's unorthodox sense of humor, her boyish manners and her uncanny speed. I am most relieved that all of the peculiarities she exhibits are beneficent ones for her to have. I am such a fortunate man."

"Oh, Erik! Why did you not tell me someone else is here?"

He chuckled and spoke in a low voice.

"And miss you turning that absolutely luscious shade of crimson? Never!"

The sound of the throat clearing returned the couple's attention to the man at the head of the orchestra pit. Erik inclined his head to the man.

"Monsieur Reyer."

The man returned the courtesy.

"Monsieur Destler. Madame Destler. The managers asked me to inform you that they should be here shortly."

Christine turned an upraised eyebrow to her husband.

"The managers? What are you plotting, monsieur?"

She huffed as she placed her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Well, I have it on very reliable sources that the opera house is in serious need of a lead soprano. It has been depending on visiting divas for the last four years and their patron thought it time that they find someone to fill the position permanently. As the patron happens to be my best friend, as well as a supporter of the candidate, he convinced the managers to allow a private audition today. An audition for you, ma chère."

He squirmed slightly, blushed furiously and then added.

"And for me, as well."

Erik could have sworn he could hear the leftover rosin from the ballerina's slippers settling on the stage, the silence was so overwhelming. He was not sure if she would slap him or kiss him. He hoped for the latter, but feared the former. She surprised him with a serious question instead.