A sharp, harsh knock woke Isaak from his deep, drug-induced sleep, his head throbbing like it was being split with an ax as he sat up, finding himself on a soft bed in a dark room. He got up slowly, straightening his long hair. Last he remembered, he was enjoying dinner with the boys—that is, Dietrich, Guderian, and Radu, the youngest members of Rosenkreuz—in a quaint little cafe in Milan, and then... He didn't know what happened. He could be anywhere right now...

Another knock. Isaak groaned, and felt his way across the room, turning on the light and wincing at the brightness of it. He turned the door handle to admit whoever was knocking so harshly. Isaak held his head as he stared directly at the heavy golden rosary, which was obviously hanging from the neck of a priest. He'd seen this rosary before... And when he looked up, his eyes fell on a familiar face. He wore thick-lensed round glasses, which masked his vibrant blue eyes (those eyes and that face reminded him of someone else entirely, making him ache with longing), and his waist length silver hair was tied up with a black ribbon.

"Good... Evening, Abel," he mustered a smile, "What time is it really?"

"It's just a little past noon," Abel stepped in and closed the door behind him. He was carrying a few things, but Isaak didn't take the time to see what they were.

"Good afternoon then. May I help you?"

"Yes... Have a seat, would you?" Abel gestured to the small, two-person table in the middle of the room. Isaak took a seat on the side facing the door, crossing one leg over the other and sitting straight and tall, folding his hands in his lap. He was careful to maintain his dignified demeanor under any circumstance, though it was obvious he was very tired and his head was aching. Abel sat across from him and produced a single long-stemmed wine glass from a pocket in his cassock, and set it on the table, filling it with red wine from the bottle he had in his other hand and sliding it across the table, pushing three pills to him—two round and one capsule. Isaak extended an elegant hand, taking the glass with caution and dropping in the capsule. It fizzled and dissolved. Isaak swirled the wine, holding the glass beneath his nose, breathing its fruity scent deeply, his eyes closing and a smile pulling at his lips.

"The other two are for your head. By the look of you, it hurts. You were heavily drugged..."

"I suppose... I have handled far worse... Other than the fact that I am second in command of the Order of Rosenkreuz, why did you bring me here? You did not kill me, so you apparently have another motive." He took a sip of the wine, relishing its flavor, "Is this a Merlot? I commend you for finding such a delicious wine, Abel."

"Thank you... I wasn't the one who drugged you... It was a woman with blue hair... She just tipped me off." Isaak raised a brow, a look of slight surprise on his handsome face, "But you're right, I did have another motive. I need to draw Cain out of hiding. I just want to talk to him... Since he's head of Rozenkreuz, I was hoping kidnapping you might make him come here. Do you think he will?"

"It is hard to say..." his velvety voice was laced ever so slightly with a Germanic accent, "I do not know exactly what my Lord thinks. He may decide that coming after me is not worth the risk if he knows you were the one behind it, and will leave me here in Italy to do with as you will..." There was a certain kind of longing in his voice when he said this, as if he hoped that wasn't the case.

"Well, I was wondering if you were close enough to him that he'd want to come for you."

"Perhaps." Isaak smiled coyly, "What are you implying?"

"I always wondered about Cain's preferences..."

"Be that as it may, I do not know if he will come for me. Though he cares for me, he may not be inspired enough to come. You will have to wait and see," he took another sip of wine, "Is that all you were here for, Abel? Or was there something else?" Abel paused for a long time, thinking.

"Why do you call me by my first name, and my brother so formally?" he blurted suddenly, "You obviously know him better than you do me."

"I do refer to him by his first name, but not all the time. Only under... Certain circumstances. We would not want the rest of the Order to think I am his favorite, even if it is true. It ruins morale for the lowest members of the Order. They all come into Rosenkreuz with the idea in their heads that they will eventually be close to him, so they compete for his attention, and it pleases him. As long as he is content, then so am I."

"Do you... Love him, then?" Abel met Isaak's eyes. Isaak raised a brow. Why was he asking these questions?

"Absolutely." That didn't look like the answer Abel wanted to hear. Abel leaned back in his chair, and took a deep breath, sighing.

"All right... Thank you. I'll have dinner brought up for you," he stood up, "Keep the wine. And I'm sorry I have to imprison you... I have to lock the door, and if you leave... I'll know. Again... Sorry."

"Do not apologize. I would think you were actually feeling sorry for me. Maybe even sympathizing with my cause. We cannot have that, can we?" he replied playfully. Abel frowned.

"Goodbye, von Kampfer," Isaak nodded once, and refilled his wine glass.