________________________

Happy Fifty Followers To Me! This is a thanks to you all!

________________________

This is an One-Shot that I wrote at ungodly hours of the morning.

________________________

  6,060 Words

________________________

A small chorus of laughs was heard from the towering castle in the Kingdom of Desmond. It had been a while since laughter that joyous and smiles that large were thrown in the castle, but the ignominy behind them was dreadful as propriety was held to a low that day. The laughter was flittering between the Queen and the Prince as they hid themselves in a room far from the King's, hardly caring what would happen were they found.

The king was all too stuck in his work to notice his brother and wife missing anyway. Many piles of papers had plagued him over the past few weeks as he dealt with some trouble in a nearby kingdom, concerning their trade.

The man who was called king was in no doubt, a good man and King. The words fit him well, but husband was never a word used to describe the man in the throne. His wife was neglected in the simplest of words to the point where he saw her at meals, and—if he ever had the chance—bed. In bed they slept solemnly and silent, never straying from their side to go beyond the barrier they had created. The king never touched her, so in return she never touched him. Or his mask.

The masked King we speak of is that still of a great King, yet he hides a horrible deformity from his kingdom and family. His brother seldom knows what lies behind the mask, while being good friends with his brother, a ten year age difference hindered him from seeing the deformity. He was just born when the future King had received a mask to shield the kingdom. "To shield the kingdom of the knowledge of an imperfect King." Their father had once said.

Erik never removed the mask to this day. Changing and washing his face, yes, but for others to see and spectate, the occurrence never happened until our story began.

Back to the giddy couple, the affair of brother and queen had been going on for practically the whole length of her marriage. The first time her perfect hazel eyes locked with his, he wished to run his hand through the perfect brunette curls and run his hands over her porcelain skin. While this may sound bad, the two hardly worried, for they were certain they loved one another... And they had a plan.

Queen Emily Destler would move in with Prince Charles Destler after they had hired her an imitator. A person who looked exactly as Emily did, she would fill the queens shoes to fulfill her child's fantasies with her prince. The younger brother was much more pleasing in the young Emily's eyes. This imitator would be someone the queen herself had already chosen and had ready, perfectly set up to play as her kings Queen. This woman was none other than a small choir girl from the town-church, Christine Daaé.

Also of twenty years, she shared everything in common when it came to the Queen. Her perfect hazel eyes and chocolate curls that bounced when she walked. The Queen and this young woman looked exactly alike, and, had you not known that the Queen holds a birthmark on her left shoulder, you wouldn't know the difference. Therefore, only the prince was able to decipher the code, because he was the only who had seen her bare. And the small peasant woman didn't throw him glances of lust every chance she got.

No, Christine had more of a docile personality that seeped kindness and almost forced you to want to know her because of that persona she emitted. Hardly anyone could deny Christine, and the king was soon to find that out.

Whence the Queen finally found her escape, Christine was summoned upon immediately, and sent to the castle for she would now be the new queen. Well, the old one. The new old Queen. Yes.

Here is where our story starts, after a day in the town, the "Queen" will be returning in her carriage and will greet the king at the doors as customary and all shall go back to normal.

Or will it?

Christine sat idly in the carriage after meeting with the Queen and accepting the money she was being paid, giving it kindly to her church anonymously for no one could know of her disappearance bar her employers. The young woman was an orphan and had no trouble accepting this position after she learned the queens ways.

Docile. Short Spoken. Quiet. Avoids King's glance. Et cetera. All she learned for this role that she would partake in for the rest of her life.

Christine Daaé was now Queen and no one was the wiser.

As Christine travelled to the castle she prepared herself dutifully to meet her new husband. New to her.

The carriage stopped and her footman gently escorted her from the carriage, guiding her to the castle doors where she met her husband.

But something was wrong. He wasn't supposed to stare at her until she cleared her throat. The king wasn't supposed to stare at her as if something was different than of usual. But it wasn't her appearance that caught her off guard, no, not at all, it was her eyes.

Her eyes could be classified as her appearance, yes, but the way they sparkled when they connected was different then when he looked at Emily any other time.

"Emily, my queen," he spoke darkly, finally bowing to her and placing a gloved hand to hers as expected. Christine accepted it kindly and then retracted her hand when he finished as though poison rested upon it, as instructed by the Queen.

"Erik, my king," she spoke confidently and passed him without a second glance, fleeting to her new room, awaiting for supper to be called.

Christine took a shallow breath as she stood in hers and Erik's room. Breathtaking Persian rugs hanging from walls and soft velvet cushioning the couches in the grand room where two golden doors led to the actual bedroom. The bed held soft covers and a plethora of pillows she wasn't entirely sure were necessary.

•=•=•=•=•=•=•

"Emily?" A voice called to her as she laid in bed, thinking of her new home and new... new everything.

"Emily?" The rich voice called again and she soon remembered that that was who she was.

"Uh, yes, sorry, m'lord," Christine mumbled as she sat up from the bed and looked at Erik.

The king was in such a raw form as he stood clad in night wear and his mask. So that rumor was true? Her mind mused at the unlikeliness of a masked king.

"You don't have to call me m'lord when not in front of others, Emily," Erik said as if speaking to someone he was tired of, but he didn't want them to leave him.

"I simply forgot," Christine spoke softly as she turned away from his side of the bed.

He got in and Christine felt the bed dip to his weight, how little of it there may be. He couldn't weigh any more than her, although the muscle she could see peaking through begged to differ. He was tall and muscular, but only when his muscles were acted upon with great strength. His mask stayed on, she noticed, as the king swept into the bed, curling away from Emily's side of the bed.

"Goodnight, Emily," his rich voice rang through the darkness the blowing out of a candle emitted.

"Goodnight, Erik," Christine said smoothly and something about how she said it made her shiver. His name felt worthy upon her lips. Worthy to be said by the Queen who laid in Erik's bed.

Christine quickly turned to Erik the moment his breath steadied and she began to stare at what she could make out from the moonlight seeping through the windows and casting gloomy shadows about the room.

"Emily, I'm not sure what's gotten into you, but staring is unkind," Erik muttered coherently causing Christine to jump. She hadn't known at all that he was awake and that his breath had only steadied because he wasn't staring into her sparkling hazel eyes.

He desperately wished they stopped sparkling.

"I-uh, sorry," she muttered as she turned away from him and snuggled into the plush covers.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, my queen? Your day on the town not enough for you, perhaps?"

Christine shook her head in the negative as her husband chuckled at the brunette next to him.

"I may have pristine eyesight but I cannot see with my eyes closed, Emily," Erik chided playfully as Christine gulped at the odd way he had become comfortable with her presence.

"It was fine, nothing was wrong."

"Was?" Erik asked as he now opened his yellow eyes and placed them upon the brunette next to him, tilting up on one arm to peer at her face.

"Nothing is wrong, Erik." It came out harsher than intended and the masked man in the bed frowned at his wife.

"Emily, are you quite alright? You're very contrite this evening."

The smoothness of his voice almost caught Christine off guard.

"I'm sorry, I just had a difficult time taming my hair today and it's made me quite upset," she lied as her preparations had not prepared her for  the king grilling her with questions.

"Ah, young Emily, the smallest of things do you fuss over," Erik concluded as he watched Christine turn to him and look wonder struck into his eyes. The yellow in the dark of night was new to Christine, and the glow they created illuminated into the sockets of his eyes, casting the faintest of shadows.

"Your eyes are beautiful," Christine commented dreadfully out of script. She wasn't supposed to comment the king. For reasons untold to her, but she was soon to find out.

"I've told you before, Emily, I do not deserve your compliments."

Christine blinked as his mask flashed away from her and his eyes no longer held lingering gazes with hers. She missed their amber glow already and he hadn't even been turned for moments.

"Erik, I apologize, I- Erik can you look at me?" Christine pleaded with new found desperation. The young woman wasn't entirely why she was trying to reconcile with the stubborn king who wasn't even her real husband. Not that she even had one in the first place.

Erik obeyed her pleas and turned slowly to her revealing the tears streaking his visible cheek.

"Were you crying?" Christine asked shamefully.

"I lose control of my emotions when people say good things of me, especially you, my darling wife," Erik spoke with such emotion that Christine hadn't even known it possible. Was it her? She'd only been there for a few hours, the fingers she possess enough to count the time in which she had spent there. Erik placed a gentle hand to his wife's face and felt the porcelain of her cheek soften the callouses on his own hand.

Quickly and without warning he removed his hand as Christine felt the withdrawal kick in. The coolness his hand had provided was refreshing and comforting, something she wished she could keep forever.

"I uh, apologize, I'm overstepping our Bounds," Erik quickly spoke.

Ah, yes, the Bounds. Erik and Emily had created them on the night of their marriage knowing full well their arrangement would pull into nothing more than friendship. Sleep on different sides of the bed. No touching of any kind, only in the eyes of the public. Never compliment the king.

That was it. Well, not really, but it seems that was what had been forgotten in the bed as the two were slowly drifting closer to one-another in.

"Erik, I don't mind," Christine spoke, the role of Emily slowly fading.

"You've never been one for rules, Emily," Erik spoke sensually as he put his hand back to the spot it had found mere seconds ago.

The coolness surrounded Christine and embraced her as goosebumps arose in her skin, alerting Erik of his affect on her.

"Did something happen in the market, today? You're so very different yet you look exactly the same," Erik whispered as his body was dangerously close to touching Christine's and her head making any movement would cause their lips to press together.

What had been compelling the two all of a sudden to just go at one another? Their barriers had fallen and if only Erik knew that Emily was not at his side, what would he do? It was a strange occurrence neither could explain although Christine had much more of a grasp on the concepted happenings than the king did.

Christine pulled her head back from his slightly as his finger traced small patterns in her cheek, goosebumps erecting themselves further from her skin.

"I met a woman today that made me grateful to be alive and married," Christine lied once again.

Erik nodded and—without hesitation—kissed Christine placidly on the lips. It caused no upset from her as she placed a gentle hand to his bare cheek and deepened the kiss.

For her, the entirety of this act was horribly against propriety, for in her eyes they had just met that day and now his tongue was being shoved down her throat and their legs entangling themselves.

For Erik, the king was more than happy to finally show his wife that maybe more could come of their relationship.

For so long he had been the gentleman every woman would wish for, and yet, he never allowed himself to taint his wife, need of heirs or not. No, his brother could simply take his place.

Erik's hand that had been resting peacefully upon Christine's porcelain cheek had fallen to her collar bone as he half-heartedly laid on top of her, her hands roaming his chest.

"I've wanted to kiss you for so long, Emily," Erik breathed in desperate to tell her how he felt. "To feel your soft pink lips between my teeth and to lose all control around you. I've only ever wanted your permission."

"You have it," Christine said surprising herself. The young woman didn't know where it came from, the phrase suddenly jumping from her lungs as if it weren't by her own will.

Erik kissed her lips again, pulling lightly at her lip with his teeth before kissing the corner of her mouth, then down to her jaw and slowly making his way to her collar-bone where his hand had lingered far below it.

His touch was illuminating to the innocent Christine as she let the small bumps on her skin form and fall at his every touch.

"If I knew I would cause such a reaction from you, Emily, I would have ensued upon you sooner," Erik growled as he reached the hem of Christine's nightgown with his kisses. "But I need to stop, you need rest and so do I," Erik said suddenly realizing the task he had began couldn't be completed with the mask in place. And it was never coming off.

The teasing last night had put both of the royals into much confusion. Christine laid with her hand over her heart the whole night and Erik slept lazily with one arm draped around the woman that was still not his wife, and she never would be.

•=•=•=•=•=•

"I must go," Erik said as he no longer looked as Christine did, he adorned the royal suits he was to wear and his staff was placed neatly in his hand.

Nothing grandeur, just a thin black staff with a skull resting at its top which was about a few inches above Erik's hip.

"His father's," he had claimed one day when the real Emily had inquired into the conspicuous piece of wood.

"Good day, Emily," he said as he walked over to her side of the bed and kissed her lips lightly, the action confusing and daunting for the both of them. The king removed himself from the room and Christine pressed a faint hand to her lips.

In just one night of a few little white lies she has found herself neck deep in a relationship. With the king. Imitating his wife. Clever.

Christine changed into her queenly attire and played mindlessly with the rings on her finger as she fingered her way through a book. She had stumbled upon a bookshelf in their room filled with only the most riveting of stories, one more intriguing than the next.

"Emily?" Erik said as he entered the room late that night, due to his work and piles of things occupying his time. Never once had he seen Emily read before. She would always do something, and be in bed by ten, but never read.

"Emily?" Erik beckoned again and he soon found his gaze locked in a small, thin finger telling him to wait until she finished the word or stanza she was scanning.

"Yes?" Christine finally answered as the two met gazes and the same awful occurrence from yesterday repeated itself.

"Your eyes, they sparkle," Erik spoke softly bringing himself to sit with his wife on the couch. He pulled her to him and snuggled her close to his chest, never wanting to let her frail frame free.

"Whenever I arrive to our bedroom late you're never awake let alone reading. What has gotten into you? First you're in an actual relationship with your husband and now you're staying up past ten?"

"The woman changed me," Christine lied referring to the woman she had used as a scapegoat the night before.

"To read and ensue upon frivolous acts with your husband?" Erik asked deeply kissing Christine's neck, none the wiser.

Christine kissed him gently when he removed himself from her neck. She knew she had to play now, and play she would besides she got herself into this mess, she could get herself out.

Apparently kissing the king was what needed to be done to get herself out.

Because kissing the king was all she did for the next hour.

This wasn't a sin or break in traditional innocence by any taste, they were married. Or were supposed to be and if Christine didn't play the part she really didn't want to face the consequences the prince and actual queen had set up.

Banishment didn't exactly settle well with Christine.

"Erik," Christine found herself saying as they moved to their bed in a more than comfortable position. Erik's arms rested on either side of her thin waist and Christine's laid on his waist, their nightclothes aiding in an easier access to one-another's skin.

"I don't know what you've been doing to me lately," Erik muttered as he placed himself under Christine as she straddled him and grasped his biceps, "for a king shouldn't be so distracted by his wife of two years," Erik continued placing feathered kisses to her skin, "but I never want you to stop."

Christine smiled inwardly as she thought about how pleased the king was with her. The years of living at an orphanage and then being slowly combined into real life at the church where she participated in singing had sheltered her from knowing most of the pleasures women her age did. The kisses an experienced king placed were new to her.

Little did she know they were just as new to him. Years of reading because the first king allowed not for him to be seen by public caused the present king to learn, and at a rapid rate. He knew as much as you possibly could from the books from every inch of the human body to what it took to please a woman. The books in the King's palace were much more scantily chosen than in the kingdom, and every single subject was covered in that library.

"Darling," Christine muttered as she slowly leaned forward bringing her chest in contact with her lover's, "why have you always been so distant?"

Inquiring solely for herself, Christine was brimming with curiosity at the thought of getting to know just what made the king tick. Surely this intimate position with random kisses being placed about would get him to speak to her.

"Later," Erik commanded as he tossed them over and Christine was placed happily on her back, legs wrapped around the king.

Had she told her friends at the orphanage she'd be in this position one day they all would have laughed.

"But-" before Christine could protest further Erik placed his lips against hers, his hands wandering to places Christine wasn't comfortable with.

"Stop."

It was reality smacking them in the face as Christine had said one small word ruining whatever mood they had created. Gone and over with as Erik silently scorned himself for going too far and Christine was regretting the four letters deeply ingrained in her mind.

"I'm sorry, it's just so new," Christine said. It was one of the first few things she'd said in front of the king that wasn't a lie.

"I pushed too fast," Erik admitted as he pulled himself away from his wife.

"I led you on."

"I allowed you to, Emily."

Shattered. That's how Christine felt as he spoke Emily's name. She knew who she was playing with, and she knew that he'd never love her specifically, but the way he spoke her name made her eyes start to water.

None of it was real.

That's what bothered her the most. None of it was real and she had to deal with the after facts for her whole life. Would she be able to do it? Would Christine Daaé be able to play Emily Destler her whole life without poking a hole in the fragile boat they were floating in?

She wasn't sure at all, and she was only on day two.

"Goodnight, Emily."

Christine could only nod as they both slipped into the covers and Erik placed a lazy arm on his wife's waist.

The same general routine went on for several more days until Christine decided to wander away from the usual. Every day Erik would leave Christine in bed with a kiss and then come back at the end of the day only seeing her in meals. They would share a lengthy and heated embrace until much past curfew.

Yet the day I speak of was a day Christine received a newspaper in her hands.

Kingdom Prospers

What's causing this new wave of prosperity?

Look inside for more details.

Christine curiously flipped to the inside of the article and read on.

The king and his wife had always been a strange couple, but rumors say that the Queen is finally expecting an heir? While this may not be it, the king has been in high spirits, completely changed by something new in his life. Enjoy prospering times, ladies and gentlemen, who knows how long it will last.

Christine looked at the article with disgust. She certainly wasn't expecting a child, for the means to creation had not been completed for it to even be possible. But the new light in the King's life? She was that new light, and knowing that made her all the happier.

In this blissful state she resided in, Christine decided to pull the king from his daily, monotonous routine and reward him in every possible way he'd allow her to. She felt elated.

Elation led to euphoria as she slipped down the halls and finally stumbled upon the King's office. Knocking, she entered at his command with a nod from the guards standing at the door on her way in.

Erik looked up to see Christine and immediately smiled at her beautiful look. She looked as if everything was going her way, and it would.

"Emily, you look stunning," the king praised as Christine pranced to him and collapsed in his lap. The guards in his office took this as the time to leave, and did so without hesitation.

"The kingdom prospers?" Christine asked giddily as the king himself realized what she was referring to.

"Yes, my darling, because of you. I'm sorry about the expectancy rumor, though. People in the castle tend to get carried away when I lock us into our room," the king said in apology.

"Forget it. The reward for the rest of it could certainly give truth to those rumors though," Christine implied as she pressed her lips to his.

Rational screamed in her mind that allowing the king to take her innocence wasn't exactly what she should be doing, but it was going to happen eventually, and why not now?

"Are you insinuating something?" Erik whispered huskily in Christine's ear as she nodded and kissed his neck. "I've been awaiting two years to hear you say that," Erik admitted as he stood with his wife and almost dragged her to their bedroom, shooing all from the whole wing.

Erik plunged Christine to their bed and almost lost his footing attempting to not fall over.

Christine allowed her hair to fall as Erik placed his jacket on the other side of the room, clinging to a doorknob as both sets of doors had been locked on their way in.

Heated kisses and wandering hands were placed everywhere on Christine's porcelain skin. While Erik's pale skin was revealed, Christine reveled in the muscles he possessed and then kissed him firmly on the lips.

"Clothes are so much harder to remove during the day," Erik argued as he tugged at Christine's corset, frustrated that she hadn't waited until the night so he could simply slip her gown off.

"Says the king," Christine argued half-heartedly. Not much sense was made to her in the statement either, but it certainly earned her a kiss. Or several.

Furthering the events, both parties lay almost clad in nothing as Christine placed a hand to the king's mask to remove it, just before everything went uphill, but a stern hand made her stop.

She had been so close, as well. So close to receiving the only glance of the king's face and see what lay behind the mask. What could be so terribly wrong with his visage that he had to hide it from the world and his own wife?

"Please," Christine whimpered as the ache within her deepened from the inactivity.

"I-I can't," the king managed to mutter to a frightened Christine. She had never seen him so broken before. The look in his eyes practically screamed for the attention she was allowing him, but he was denying it to further because of his mask.

"I need you, Erik, please, just remove it," Christine begged.

Erik shook his head as his tears fell on the mask covering his deformity.

"You can't demand of me," Erik chided coldly to Christine who now quivered beneath her husband. The king who was now denying her when moments ago he was practically tearing clothes from her body.

"Erik, I-"

"Stop."

Suddenly the tables turned as Christine remembered the incident of only days ago.

"You're a brave man, my king. Please allow me to show you I am as brave as you, your queen needs you."

Erik looked at her and scrunched his eyebrows, no one has ever asked to see his face before and it surely wasn't expected. In a state of shock, he never noticed himself nodding and Christine moving her hand to take the porcelain from his face.

Suddenly, a cold air brushed his marred cheek and then a pair of soft lips followed it.

"Can we continue, please," Christine begged a slight more needy, for the ache the king had arisen within her was almost killing her.

"Undoubtedly," Erik muttered as he dove into a kiss and finished off what the couple had started.

•=•=•=•=•=•

"I'm certain, now, that you can leave that off around me," Christine said as the events of the afternoon had passed and king and queen lay side by side staring into one another's eyes.

"The mask? You truly don't fear my face?" The king asked naïvely.

"I just gave my everything to you in clear daylight, I'm positive I fear nothing," Christine said lightly as she placed a hand on Erik's cheek.

"If you say so, Emily," Erik said happily kissing Christine's nose.

The young soprano smiled guiltily and looked down to the covers. Christine couldn't bring herself to look at him when he spoke some one else's name. She couldn't allow herself to think that he loved her.

"Do you love Emily?" Christine asked sadly as Erik gave her the most confused expression possible.

"I broke the third-person habit years ago, Emily, why have you picked it up? Of course I love you. These past two years I haven't been sure, but something about these past two weeks have been wonderful and solidifying. So yes, Emily, I love you."

Christine felt a tear slip from her eye as she still hadn't looked him in the eye. Even when he pulled her face up to his and placed a light kiss to her lips she didn't even allow her eyes to wander close to his. She wouldn't allow herself to feel hurt.

Not yet.

"Do you love me?" Erik asked as Christine turned around and snuggled into his chest allowing herself the luxury of not having to be even tempted to look at his kind face. The arm that wrapped dutifully around her bare waist gave her the strength to answer.

"I do love you, Erik."

Christine felt like the little white lies she had been spoon-feeding Erik in the days past were going to suffocate her. Too many lies had built up into one large ball of white ignominy.

The sin she thought she would be okay with because he was supposed to be disconnected! He was supposed to ignore her and just exist around her and maybe once or twice they would do what they had done to allow the king an heir but she was never supposed to fall for him. Nor was he supposed to all of a sudden love his wife.

None of it should have happened, but it did.

"Goodnight, Erik," Christine spoke definitely as she closed her eyes and let Erik think she slept.

•=•=•=•=•=•

The next few days killed Christine.

Each day she felt herself become sicker and sicker with the knowledge that he loved Emily, and Emily loved Charles while Christine loved Erik.

Little white lies felt black and heavy as she spent the nights in Erik's arms and the days reading, seldom eating or doing much of anything else.

One specifically dark day, Christine had wandered into the halls and stumbled upon a music room.

She had been so curious as to its contents that she spent hours looking into the instruments and their workings, playing the piano at the end of her exploring.

She felt free and lifted as the music coerced through her ears and allowed her to forget the fact that she wasn't who everyone thought she was. The young soprano even began to sing and show the castle why she was in her choir. Of course, no one would know that, for everyone thought she was the Queen.

The king had a particularly easy day and found himself, too, wandering the castle halls as he soon heard her glorious singing. Knowing it wasn't his wife, for she sang as well as nails on a chalkboard, he headed to his music room to see the talented pianist and singer.

Slowly peaking his head into the room he almost gasped when he saw his wife release the angelic sound from her lungs. It had to be impossible, though, the Queen couldn't play either, let alone sing.

"My Queen?" Erik questioned as Christine looked kindly to her interruption, but Erik couldn't bring himself to call her Emily. He had to figure out what was going on.

"Yes, my love?" Christine questioned lightly.

"Don't," Erik answered shortly.

"What did I-" Christine asked sheepishly before being cut off once again.

"Who are you?" Erik asked in disgust. This woman was not Emily and he felt disgusted. He felt dirty and like the wall had been pulled over him for far too long. Disgust, revile, despising, and anger rushed through the king's blood as the woman in front of him couldn't produce an answer.

In anger and uncertainty, for he had given everything to this woman, he went up to Christine and placed her jaw firmly and pain-enducingly in his hand.

She almost cried due to his grip.

"Who are you?" Erik growled.

"Christine Daaé, an orphan from the church, twenty years of age. I was hired by your queen months ago to replace her and filled the position the day we rekindled our marriage," Christine admitted all at once.

Never did Erik's grip loosen.

"I slept with you, you filthy peasant," Erik growled causing Christine to let tears flow freely now from her eyes. "You portrayed my wife and told me you loved me. You saw me most vital without the mask and you're not who you say you are."

Erik was fuming and Christine would have been stupid not to notice it as she had.

"Erik, please," Christine begged placing her soft and nimble fingers on Erik's grip on her, trying to pry free.

"Don't beg, child, it's unbecoming on a Queen. Everything you have said is a lie," Erik snarled. "Why should I allow you mercy?"

"Because I love you," Christine muttered as her jaw tensed and she winced visibly in pain.

"You lie," Erik snarled again moving his hand to her throat.

"No, please, how can I? You're so loving and gentle, bar now. But I do love you, you've allowed me to see your face and you've loved me as no other man ever will," Christine argued. She knew now that she did love him. If she had to chose between life trying to prove it and a life back to normal at the church choir, she'd chose proving her love in a heartbeat.

"You can't love a monster of a king," Erik said as his grip loosened and Christine breathed easy for the first time in minutes. She could feel the bruises forming on her neck and chin.

"Erik, I love you and I will spend the rest of my peasant life trying to prove it to you. Let me prove it to you," Christine begged. Erik's eyes softened fully this time, and he gently pulled away from her as she stumbled to the floor.

"Let Emily and Charles live their lives, let You and Christine form a new love," Christine said referring to herself in the third person.

"Why should I love you, Christine? How do I know you're not lying so you won't be banished?" Erik asked, much less vile then the other times he had threatened her.

"How did my name feel on your lips?"

"Christine, you're not answering my question with more questions, you-"

"How did it feel? Your name feels like saying an angel's. Hearing you say Christine makes me fall to my knees were I not already on them. You can't deny me when I feel exactly what you do, please." Christine stood from the floor and paced over to Erik who was debating within himself.

"Your name feels like air slipping through my lips after coming from the water and taking that first refreshing breath of air," Erik almost whispered. Christine had heard it though, and her heart had fluttered as she placed a gentle hand to Erik's shoulders.

"Christine," Erik breathed as he looked at her, soon kissing her passionately.

"I think I can get used to that name. Queen Christine Destler."

"My king," Christine said happily as she pressed her lips to Erik's once again, sealing their bond forever more.

From there on it no longer mattered who Christine was, all that mattered was the fact that the king had a wife he loved, and would soon bare his children, heirs to the throne built on irrational lies, but love nonetheless. No, Christine was never really the Queen, but her children were royalty and no one was the wiser.