Beautiful Soul Chapter Twenty-One

Beautiful Soul Chapter Twenty-One

Weeks passed and they decided to not go to Paris after all.

Erik finished his mask. It was now painted white and had a black ribbon attached to it to tie the mask to his face. He wore it under his cloak when passing through towns.

He wouldn’t admit it, but Antoinette knew that the incident when they were hunted and called demons hurt Erik deeply. He became bitter to everything and everyone, including her, for days afterwards.

Erik finally decided they were safe from their pursuers from the carnival so they stopped traveling so quickly and began looking for a suitable place to settle down.

The two grew closer each day.

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“What are you writing?” Antoinette asked on night, mending one of her dresses. They were sitting around a campfire in a grassy field. She got up from her spot and peeked over Erik’s shoulder. “Is it your Don Juan?”

Suddenly he clamped the paper to his chest, hiding its contents from her view. This surprised her since usually he would love to show off his work.

“It’s not finished!” he said with a slight blush. She had never seen him do that before.

“You’ve let me read your Don Juan before,” she responded in confusion.

“It’s not Don Juan,” he said and looked up at her. “Please don’t look.”

She looked at him for a moment before nodding. She went back to her place at the fire. She continued sewing, wondering what he could be writing.

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The next day Erik went off on his own, wearing his mask and cloak, telling Antoinette to stay put. He returned hours later. When she asked him about his whereabouts, he shrugged it off and went back to work on whatever he was writing.

That night they moved on and came to a town. They rented a room in the inn.

“Tomorrow we’re going shopping,” he announced as he looked out the window at the moon.

“For what?” Antoinette asked brushing her damp, recently washed hair.

“Clothes and a carriage.”

“A carriage?” she repeated, stopping her brushing. “Why?”

He looked at her. “So we don’t have to travel unprotected in the rain anymore. It’s a matter of time one of us gets sick.”

He had a point so Antoinette agreed.

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True to his word, Erik bought a horse and carriage. Antoinette had to admit that it was nice, but she couldn’t help but wonder where he got the money. She asked, but he told her that it came from the carnival worker, Pelo. She only half-believed him.

After buying the carriage, they went shopping for new clothes. In the stores, people stared, but they didn’t care. Erik bought Antoinette many new dresses. He bought himself several new pairs of clothing including a new cloak, a black fedora, and black gloves. He also bought them both new shoes.

“Where in the world did you get all this money?!” Antoinette hissed as they walked out of the shop. They loaded all the clothes into their carriage.

“Pelo, from the carnival,” he said simply, helping her into the carriage.

He closed the door and climbed up into the driver’s seat and set off. Antoinette opened the carriage window and glared. “Don’t lie to me!” she said. “I know a carnival worker doesn’t have anything close to the amount you spent today!”

Erik looked back at her. She couldn’t see his expression due to the mask, but she knew he was smiling. He closed the window without a word, ending the conversation.

She fumed all the way back to the inn, but didn’t bring it back up. She knew he stole it from somewhere; probably when he went off alone the day before.

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“Thank you for the clothes,” Antoinette said that night, kissing his cheek. He was working on Don Juan. “But I haven’t seen you in your new clothes yet.”

He looked up at her and smiled. “I am not putting on a show for you,” he said.

She pouted. “Fine,” she said and hugged him from behind. “So did you finish the Secret Composition?”

“Secret what?” he asked in confusion, looking back at her, bewildered.

“That music you were working on and wouldn’t let me see.”

“Oh that,” he said turning back around. “No, it’s not finished.”

Knowing the conversation was over she let him go and he went back to work.

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Nearly a month passed. Erik didn’t stay with Antoinette at the inn much at all. He left early in the morning before she woke and returned late at night to sleep. He refused to tell her where he went everyday and she began to fret despite his assurances that everything was fine.

Finally one night Erik came in with something in his hand. He went to Antoinette who was reading a book on their bed and handed it to her without a word.

“What’s this?” she asked sitting up to read it. It was a piece of music had written that she had never seen before. “The Music of the Night,” she read. “Did you write this for me?”

He nodded with a barely noticeable blush. “I was going to give it to you when I took you to our home tomorrow, but…” he trailed off and looked away.

“What home?” she asked in confusion.

“I found a patch of property in a clearing near the forest two or so miles from here,” he explained. “I bought it and built a home there.”

“So that’s what you’ve been doing everyday!” she burst, smiling brightly. He nodded and she got up and threw her arms around him happily. She kissed him repeatedly, nearly crying from her happiness.

She finally let him go. She sat back down and looked at the music. “Will you sing it for me?” she asked.

He smiled and nodded, kissing her forehead. He sat down and began to sing.

Antoinette was unable to speak when he finished. She was crying from the sheer beauty of the song and the fact that he had wrote it just for her.

“Thank you,” she said when she finally found her voice. “It was beautiful.” She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. She loved him so much!