For some reason, Feliciano wakes up in the middle of the night.
After a minute or so of screwing his eyes up in pain (why is the lamp evenon?), he's awake enough to realise that Ludwig is not asleep either. He isn't even lying down. Anxious, Feliciano pokes him to get his attention,
"Ludwig? Qualcosa non va?" [What's wrong?] Ludwig looks down at him and forces a half-smile,
"Nichts. Ich kann nicht schlafen." [Nothing. I can't sleep.]
But Feliciano doesn't believe that counts as nothing wrong, and sits up and rests his head on Ludwig's shoulder, watching him with concern.
"Vuoi qu-ah-do you want something to drink?" Ludwig shakes his head, "Um…do you want me to sleep in the guest room and leave you alone?" a much firmer head shake, and he takes tight hold of Feliciano's hand (which makes Feliciano smile); "Would you…like me to read to you?" there is a pause as Ludwig hesitates, but then, slowly, he nods,
"Actually that…might be quite nice."
"Okay!" Feliciano pats his arm, "but you'll have to lie down, so you can fall asleep, yes?"
After some shuffling, Ludwig is settled, and Feliciano has the book from his bedside table ("Isn't that the one your brother has been telling you to read for ages?") in his hands, and Ludwig's head in his lap.
And Feliciano reads ("La recita quotidiana del Rosario era finita.")and his voice is quiet for once ("Durante mezz'ora la voce pacata del Principe aveva ricordato i Misteri Dolorosi"), which is unusual, but rather… soothing, actually ("durante mezz'ora altre voci"), and the sound of Feliciano's language is oddly comforting ("frammiste avevano tessuto un brusio ondeggiante") and feels like…like home. ("sul quale si erano distaccati i fiori di parole inconsuete") As he begins to nod off, Ludwig finds that the foreign words get harder to follow ("amore, verginità, morte…") until Il Gattopardo is no longer comprehensible, it's just a soft voice blanketing him, lulling him gently to sleep.