March 5, 1800

It's still cold, and I haven't seen Gilbert since the blizzard. I'm scared: truly scared. I've learned enough English to express my fears, too, but daren't speak them aloud. I merely hope everything settles down soon. I fear the stress is going to take me down.

Anxiously,

Elizabeta


March 30, 1800

Gilbert is leaving on April 25th. My wedding is three days later. I've realized something dreadful- I think I've feelings for Gilbert. Worse: I think he was right about Roderich. What if I really don't love him? What if I was just caught in the high of wealth? I'm so terribly afraid- I need to tell someone but have no one to talk to. I can't tell Gilbert- he would think me a fool. I can't tell Roderich- he would be heartbroken. I can't speak with either of his parents, and for obvious reasons. I wish I had a mother of my own; I need guidance. I need a conclusion. I need… I'm going to see if Catholicism has the answer today.

Please, if you are willing God,

Elizabeta


April 17, 1800

It's gotten very warm as of late. I'm going to the church again- I won't stop until Gilbert leaves or I find the answer.

Intent,

Elizabeta


Elizabeta tried her wedding dress on again while Roderich was away, and it didn't fit quite right anymore. Mr. and Mrs. Edelstein wore separate expression: one of amusement, one of acrimony.

"You lost weight," the man mused.

"I can't believe the dress doesn't fit!" the woman raged, "You haven't been eating, have you, girl!" Elizabeta raised her shoulders and arms dejectedly.

"I can't help losing the weight- I'm eating more than before!"

"Then you need to stop training like a man in the ancient Olympics!"

"I'm not!" Elizabeta said, fixing the dress's straps on her shoulders. They slipped down again, baring her pale shoulder.

"I need sun," she complained, "I look pallid!"

"I don't know what you're blathering about," the woman said curtly, "You looked terrible when you were brown-skinned. Like an indigent. Now if only you would put on some weight!" Elizabeta scowled but didn't speak.

"I guess we can send your dress to the tailor's," Mrs. Edelstein grumbled, turning. "Take it off, Mr. Edelstein will bring it now."

Elizabeta turned away from the two and the woman unbuttoned her dress. It fell heavily on the floor, fluffy like a pastry and just as pale. Elizabeta covered herself with her forearm and picked up her clothes. Then she pulled on her faded dress and turned around.

"I'm going to the church," she said, running her fingers through her hair quickly.

"The church?" both adults seemed surprised.

"Why?" the man asked.

"I need to ask God something," the girl replied, looking toward the window. "I need to know something."

"What is it?" Mrs. Edelstein asked impatiently. Elizabeta turned to her and scowled.

"It is none of your business, ma'am! It's between me and God!" she said heatedly. The woman recoiled slightly, but Mr. Edelstein picked up the assault, more gently than his wife.

"We're just worried for you, is all."

"I'll be fine," Elizabeta said, curtseying and beginning to leave. She stopped at the door and looked back. "I just need to ask a little question- I'll be home by sundown, okay?" When they nodded, she smiled and scurried away. She needed to ask God… was it a sin to love another man than the one you were betrothed to?

The church was utterly silent and the click of her heels reverberated throughout the vacant room. There was a large cross positioned on the altar, and she knelt before it.

"I… I've never done anything like this before," she began, faltering, "I… I don't know how to address you or anything-"

"Elizabeta?" She turned around quickly.

"Gil? What are you doing here?" He smiled tightly and offered a short wave before approaching the altar and kneeling as well.

"This has been my church since I arrived in Vienna," he said, bowing his head, "I come every afternoon if I can." He looked so serene, knelt before the cross, and she couldn't help but watch for a moment as he offered himself before God.

"… why are you here, Elizabeta?" he asked softly. She looked away, toward the cross, the colorful windows, anything to keep her gaze from the young soldier.

"I need to ask God something," she murmured. He nodded.

"I understand." He didn't pressure her to speak of it and remained unmoving as the green-eyed girl turned to the altar. She bowed her head.

God… Can you help me? I'm scared. I'm afraid… for my fiancé, for my friend… Please, tell me what to do… Help me… She mouthed the words, clasping her hands tighter and tighter until it hurt and she looked up, inhaling sharply. Gilbert rose to his feet.

"Elizabeta, would you come with me after you've finished here?" he asked softly. His expression was unreadable, and Elizabeta looked up with worry.

"Yes- what's wrong, Gil? You don't seem yourself today…" He smiled tightly. His boots clicked on the glossy floors and the sound echoed throughout the room, getting louder and louder.

"I'm not- at least, I'm not how I was. I'm trying to grow up now, to make up for my irresponsibility before. I… nevermind." He turned back to Elizabeta, and his mouth moved wordlessly. Then he chuckled.

"Has God answered your questions yet?" he asked, approaching her. She shook her head, and he nodded slightly. "Then He wants you to find the answer yourself, I bet."

"But I tried that!" she said exasperatedly, getting up from her knees, "I really need His help!"

"Trust in Him. He knows you can solve this on your own," Gil said, smiling, "Oh, you seem upset now. I'm sorry, Liza." Elizabeta's stared at him.

"You…?"

"Yes?"

"You called me Liza…" she looked up. "You haven't called me that since we met again..." He smirked teasingly.

"What, you'd rather I be a stiff, Elizabeta?" he emphasized her name, and she flushed.

"No! I just was making an observation!"

"Don't shout in a church, Mrs. Edelstein," he continued, "It's rude." She flushed more violently.

"You know I'm not married yet," she whispered fiercely. He chuckled and turned away.

"Do I know?" she scowled and attacked.

It was like when they were kids again. He cried out and fell, with Elizabeta digging her knees into his sides lest she fall off; the sound he made when he hit the floor bounced off the lofty ceiling. He tried to get up, but she clung to him and he gave up.

"What was that? Cheap shot," he grumbled. She chuckled.

"Finally beat you," she crowed, "Only took me ten years." He chuckled and rolled over, so she was sitting on his abdomen.

"Can't believe it's been ten years," he said, propping himself up on his elbows. She grinned.

"Yes, I know. It's surprising, hunh? I mean… we're adults now…" she said, and her voice trailed off. Gilbert saw that distant look in her eyes, and he smiled.

"Get off'a me, Lize." She flushed and moved, and he sat up.

"Let's go," he urged, "Enjoy our youth, I mean. Let's go to the park. It's nice an' warm today, don't you think?" She nodded, and he got to his feet and offered his hand.

"Thought you were a man," he laughed when she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet.

"I am," she declared. Then she looked down at herself. "Save for the dress…" He laughed again and let her go, turning.

"C'mon, let's get going. I'll buy lunch if you want." She nodded, and they departed the church, left from underneath the knowing eyes of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

The park was nearly empty save for a few families, and Elizabeta insisted that they eat their lunch under a large budding oak.

"We forgot something to sit on," Elizabeta realized, looking at the grass. The silver-haired Prussian chuckled. In a split second, he was spreading his jacket on the grass. Then he rolled up his sleeves and leaned against the tree. "No we didn't," he said finally. She looked at him in shock, then admiration.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know." She smiled and sat down. Then she looked up. Gil was intent on eating his lunch, and didn't notice as the girl studied him. He was nothing like Roderich. He was rugged and worn, with a crudeness and a strength that living impoverished gave you. He had the strong arms and legs of a penniless, hardworking man, and the rough-hewn features. He was scarred, she noticed, and hardened from the knight's training.

"Stop staring at me," he said, taking another bite of his sandwich. Elizabeta was at a loss- how could he see her?

"I'm not staring at you," she said. He glanced up from his sandwich in mild surprise. Then he smirked.

"I see. I'm sorry- you're fiancé wouldn't be too happy."

"Hunh?"

"I just can't help being so handsome, ya know?" he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, "I can understand why you're so captivated by me." The girl understood suddenly, and she scowled.

"Vain lecher!" He chuckled.

"You're the one who was staring," he replied easily. She flushed crimson.

"Well… uh… you know… Ah! Curse you!" she turned back to her sandwich. Her flush was from being found out; her stammering was because she couldn't deny that yes, Gilbert Weillschmidt was completely, unreasonably handsome.

Gilbert glanced at her over the slice of bread. Was she… No, she couldn't.

She was engaged- due to be married in 8 days… 8 days…

"Damn it all," he murmured, closing his eyes. I've lost…

"What?" Elizabeta looked up, and the man started.

"Nothing," he replied hastily, and he finished his sandwich, "Just remembering- when's your wedding again?"

"The 28th," she said happily, "But Mrs. Edelstein is mad because I lost weight. Again."

"Hey, if you're with child…" he began, and laughed when she became furious and searched for something to throw at him. "I'm only joking, Lize!" She folded her arms.

"I don't think that's all that funny," she said, pouting. He shook his head and crouched.

"Eventually, it'll happen, am I right? When we were kids, you said you wanted a son to take after you… has that changed?" She looked up with surprise.

"You remember that?"

"I remember everything from when we were young," he admitted, looking toward some children playing ball in the field, "When you left, I said I needed to find you again- I needed to see my best friend again, so I swore to never forget…" He blushed- actually blushed- and Elizabeta stared at him in surprise.

"… Now I sound like a girl," he said, chuckling, yet it was a mournful sound. He looked dejected now; outwardly unhappy. The dams broke; his emotion flooded to his face, and it was the saddest expression Elizabeta had ever seen.

"Gil…" She got to her feet, "I'm gonna climb that tree." He looked up in shock.

"What- No, you'll fall, Liza." She shook her head.

"I'm not gonna fall," she promised, and her hands found purchase on the rough bark. Gilbert stood back, watching her worriedly as she remembered how to climb.

"Don't climb too far-"

"What are you, scared?" she teased. It was a perfect echo of the past. She grabbed a branch and found another to stand on, looking down at the man.

He was honest.

"Yes!" The branch cracked as she tried to hoist herself higher, and she cried out as she began to fall.

Gilbert rushed forward, arms outstretched, and she landed in his grasp with a gasp. But he did not stumble. He was wide-eyed, terrified, holding the brown-haired girl in his arms. Afraid she would break. Afraid she would be hurt.

"Gilbert… you… you saved me again…" she said, looking at him in shock. His heart hammered in his chest, and he rested his back against the tree heavily to compose himself.

"I…" he looked at the girl in his arms, so fragile and feminine, and he closed his eyes. His pulse wouldn't slow.

"I told you not to climb the tree for a reason," he said hoarsely, "I… Elizabeta, really…" She saw the waning terror writ on his brow and felt the throb of his anxious heart.

"I… I know, Gil, I-"

"I've never been so scared in my life," he continued, as if she had never spoken, "If I hadn't caught you, you would have broken your neck or your back-"

"Gilbert…" she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, trembling. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" He smelled of oak and shaving cream, of work and washing and life. He let himself slide down the trunk until he was seated with the green-eyed girl in the crook of his thighs and abdomen.

"It's alright…" he said faintly, feeling her breath on his throat. Oh, Lord, this couldn't be happening…

"Gil…" she leaned away from his neck, "I think… I've fallen for you…" He was stunned.

"But… what about your fiancé…?" he asked faintly. She looked away.

"I… I don't know, Gil…" He stared at her, wide-eyed. His heart had continued its steady drumming.

He took her cheeks gently between his hands and turned her toward him.

"Gil…?" he leaned up and pressed his lips to hers tenderly, and she made a soft noise, before curling her arms around his neck. But he pulled away, shocked and ashamed.

"I… I can't… you already have someone, Elizabeta…" She looked away, burning tears of humiliation in her eyes.

"I know," she whispered, "I… I don't know if I love him anymore, Gilbert…" He looked up.

"What do you…" She wiped her eyes on her wrists.

"I can't help it, Gilbert… I… I just don't feel the same anymore…" the tears came back more passionately and trickled down her cheeks. He reached up and brushed away her tears.

"Elizabeta…" he kissed her cheek gently and stretched his legs out so she could sit more comfortably on him, "I…" he held her closer. "I feel the same… but it's immoral… you'd have to…" he stopped, and she exhaled painfully.

"I know… I'd need to break off my engagement with Roderich…" she began to cry harder.

"Why can't this be easier?" she sobbed. Gilbert nodded faintly and rested his hands on the ribbon of her dress. The sun was still high in the sky, but there was a cool wind blowing over the field.

"I know… what you mean, Elizabeta…"