A/n: New chapter! Yay! Enjoy, my dear readers!

Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.

Chapter 11

Erik's POV

"Hold still, madame." The photographer's flash lamp lit, giving off a burst of light. Looking to where Christine sat, I smiled. She was a vision of loveliness and after today, I would have something to preserve that loveliness. The photographer was a friend of Nadir's who originally offered to photograph the two of us. I was not one for photos and asked if he would, instead, photograph Christine. We had spent most of the afternoon here in the wood behind the house, taking many photos of my beloved angel. She wore a beautiful gown of green silk, with a purple bodice and gold accents. Her handmaid had taken some purple wildflowers and wove them into her hair. She was even more beautiful now than our wedding day and I could not take my eyes from her.

Upon catching my gaze on her, Christine smiled and blew me a kiss. My heart could have leapt out of my chest in that moment. It had only been a few months since our marriage, but I still could not believe that she was my wife. She was heaven-sent, a blessing that I would forever cherish. Her beauty was beyond words and the love she held for me was endless. There would never be a man as lucky as I was in a thousand years. Christine was the reason for that. "Monsieur," the photographer said, gaining my attention. I turned away from Christine and peered down my nose at the short man. "Would you like to join your wife for one last photo?"

"No thank you, sir..." I began, only to have Christine interrupt.

"Oh, please Erik!" Christine begged, rising from the tree stump and rushing over to grab my upper arm. Gazing up at me with her big brown eyes, she pouted her luscious pink lips, hoping it would help get her way. "Just this once, my love. That is all I ask. You'll never have to take another again."

"Christine, you know how I feel about photos..." I began, but trailed off as I looked into her eyes. She looked so eager and I heard a voice in my head saying I would regret it if I did not. Disappointing Christine was the last thing I wanted to do, so I caved. "But I suppose just one won't hurt."

Christine squealed with delight and pulled my head down to place a kiss at the corner of my mouth, where my mask did not cover. "Come, my love!" she laughed, pulling me to the stump. She sat down on it and directed me to stand behind her, then turned slightly and looked up at me. "Now look at me, Erik."

I tilted my head down, looking her in the eyes. "Like this?" She nodded.

"Now cup my cheek." she directed. I did as she told, cupping the soft roundness of her cheek. "Monsieur, when you are ready."

"Here we go." the photographer said, and the flash lamp lit for the last time that day.

…

Pounding on Nadir's door, I waited impatiently for either him or Darius to answer. They were likely still in bed, as it was just turning two in the morning. Footsteps from inside the apartment came towards the door and I knew it was Nadir, by the sound of them. The lock in the door clicked and Nadir pulled it open. "Good morning, Nadir." I said, brushing past him and into the apartment. The man was still in his nightclothes and quickly shut the door to keep out the cold January air.

"Erik, this is far too early to be calling." he said, turning around to face me. "For Allah's sake, what are you doing here? You must have left last night to get here. This better be important enough to wake me up before the sun rises."

"Shall we go to your sitting room?" I asked. "Or do you wish for me to sit by your bed and explain while you doze off?"

"Your sarcasm never ceases to exist, old friend." Nadir shook his head. "I suppose we can sit in the study. But I will not make tea or coffee for you at this hour, understood?"

I nodded and followed the Persian man to his sitting room. I took my seat in the high-backed chair and waited for him to sit. I growled in annoyance when he excused himself to get some matches to start a fire in the fireplace. It was more for himself, since the cold did not affect me. The longer he took, the more I wished I had not taken the time to come here. When at last he returned and had a fire burning, he sat down on the chaise and asked me to explain my being here.

"It is Mademoiselle Clerisseau, Nadir." I started. The sentence caused the old man to lift an eyebrow in confusion.

"Has she not followed the rules?" he questioned.

"No." I answered. "She has not broken any of the rules."

"Well, what is the matter with her then?" Nadir pressed. "You have only been displeased with an employee when they did not follow your rules. If she hasn't broken any, then what could you possibly be cross about?"

"I want her gone." I seethed under my breath. "She is not the type of person I want around my son."

"That is absurd. Why the change of mind?" Nadir argued, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Erik, you better give me a good reason why she is no longer fit for the job. It was a miracle that I found someone like her to take care of Gustave, in the first place. If I have to find you another nanny, will you do the same thing you're doing now?"

"The woman is stealing my son!" I exploded, silencing Nadir. "I don't know when or how, but I believe he does not see her as he should. He does not see her as a nanny anymore. Here." Reaching into my breast pocket, I pulled out one of the photographs of my beloved wife. I always carried one around with met to remember her by. I handed it to Nadir and let him look it over.

"Allah above." Nadir breathed. "This is one of the photographs you had taken of..." He stopped before he said her name, knowing well what would happen if he said it. "What does this have to do with anything?"

I reached into my pocket once again, this time grabbing the torn piece of canvas I had stolen. "Gustave must have gotten a hold of one of the photographs, Nadir. He painted Mademoiselle Clerisseau yesterday afternoon." I handed the piece of canvas to my friend. On it was the painted face of Mademoiselle Clerisseau, but the expression was very similar to that of Christine's in the photograph. Nadir's eyes widened, having realized what I had last evening. "The resemblance is too similar to the photographs to be from his own imagination."

"He couldn't know that the woman in the photograph, if he has one, is his mother." Nadir said, still looking between the photograph and the piece of canvas. "I still don't see where you are getting the notion that Gustave sees Mademoiselle Clerisseau as his mother."

"There was more to the painting that I did not bring." I rose from my chair and took the photograph and the bit of canvas. Walking over to stand in front of the fireplace, I let the warmth wash over me. "He painted himself in her arms. That is what a mother does, Nadir. Mademoiselle Clerisseau is not fit to be seen as his mother." Crumpling the piece of canvas, I tossed it into the fire. "No one is anymore."

"I see." Nadir sighed. "Don't you think you may be overreacting a bit, Erik? Mademoiselle Clerisseau did not ask for Gustave to see her this way."

"I don't care, Nadir." Returning to the high-backed chair, I sat down and returned the photograph to my breast pocket. "This is not what I want for Gustave."

"Give her a chance, Erik. Set more boundaries." Nadir pushed. "You're so good at finding any reason to get rid of someone. Maybe you should try finding reasons to keep them."

"I don't want him to get any more attached than he already has. I will not be swayed by you, Nadir." We both fell silent, choosing not to say anything to one another. When we were both this cross, it was best not to say anything. If we continued, I would likely have ended up strangling the man. Eventually, Darius found us sitting there, having been woken up from our discussion. He offered to make some coffee for the two of us and went to do so at Nadir's acknowledgement. When Darius returned, he set the tray down and left us to serve ourselves.

"I just realized something, Erik." Nadir said, breaking the silence.

"What?" I balanced my cup on my leg, waiting for Nadir to continue.

"You destroyed Gustave's painting, didn't you?" Nadir looked me in the eyes, a serious look on his face.

"So what if I did?" The painting mattered the least to me. Nadir was right, but I would not allow him to guilt me into changing my mind. "Mademoiselle Clerisseau will be sent away as soon as I return home, regardless of who destroyed the painting."

"Get out of my home, Erik." I raised my eyebrows at Nadir's words. He had set his cup of coffee down and was looking at me with disappointment. "I don't know why you have to bring your problems to me all the time. You are still going to do what you want when you leave. The sooner she's gone the better, right? No one is fit to raise your child for you, are they?"

I handed Nadir my cup and rose from the chair. "Right. Have a good day, Nadir." With that, I left the sitting room and started for the door. This was usually when Nadir would chase after me with something more to say. I reached the door to leave the apartment, but Nadir had not followed. I left his place and began the walk to where my carriage waited to take me home. Foolish man. He does not know anything.

…

Vivienne's POV

When I awoke the next morning, Gustave was curled up with his back against me. We had fallen asleep in his playroom and I regretted doing so. I was sore from sleeping on the uncomfortable floor, but somehow was able to sleep through the night. The wreckage from last night remained and I hoped the staff would not mind cleaning it up. It would also do well to tell Monsieur Destler about the destruction of Gustave's painting. Whoever was responsible for the action should not get away with doing something so cruel. It was likely one of the staff that had gotten tired of dealing with Gustave's many messes. My hope was that Monsieur Destler would get to the bottom of it and do it quickly.

Glancing up at the clock on the wall, I noted that it was about time for me to be getting up. Gustave was still fast asleep and though I did not wish to wake him, he too needed to move from the playroom floor. I sat up and shook Gustave's shoulder lightly. "Gustave, wake up."

The boy's eyes fluttered open and found me looking down at him. "Mmm..." he hummed, shutting his eyes again.

"Gustave, you need to take a bath this morning since you didn't last night." I said, shaking him again. "Come on. Time to get up."

"Do I have to?" Gustave whined, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Yes, you do." He yawned and stretched his arms, then stood up from the floor. I joined him and guided the child from his playroom and to his bedroom. He sat on the edge of his bed while I went and drained the water in the tub from last night. After I fished the now empty bottle of bubbly soap from the tub, I started to refill the bath. Gustave would just have to do without the bubbles until another was purchased. While it filled, I left the bathing room to go help Gustave undress.

As I exited the bathing room, I laughed at the sight before me. Gustave had attempted to remove his own shirt and now was struggling to remove it from over his head. No matter how he pulled, the shirt would not come off, so I came to his rescue. I pulled it back down and unbuttoned the collar, then eased it off his shoulders. "You were trying to undress by yourself, Gustave. I am impressed."

"Really?" he asked as I undid the ties on his pants. He stepped out of them and I put the discarded clothing in his hamper. "I got myself stuck, though."

"You did what every child I know has done before when undressing themselves." Walking back into the bathing room with Gustave on my heels, I shut the water off and helped him into the tub. "It is something to learn and it is easier to learn than playing piano."

Gustave allowed me to lather soap into his hair, all the while playing with some of the bath toys I put in the tub for him. When I began rinsing it, he stared up at me, a thoughtful look on his face. His mismatched eyes scanned my face, seemingly trying to study each feature. Before I knew what was happening, he had reached up and put his hands on either side of my face. I laughed, feeling the water on his hands run onto my cheeks. "What are you doing, Gustave? You're getting me wet."

"You look just like the lady." he said, dropping his hands back into the water. The lady? I had not the slightest clue who Gustave was talking about. For all I knew, it could be just about any woman that Gustave had seen. "Well, not quite actually. Her hair is curled, but yours is straight. Your eyes are different too."

"Gustave, who are you talking about?" I asked, looking down at the child. A sheepish look crossed over his face and he dropped his gaze from me as quick as he could. He was definitely keeping something important from me, so I decided to press him further on this lady. "Gustave, who is the lady?"

"I can't tell you." he harrumphed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"But you just said something about a lady." I argued as I pulled the drain in the tub. "Gustave, lying is not something a gentleman would do. Monsieur Julian will not be pleased if he finds out, will he?" He stayed sitting as the water drained, his arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face. I picked up the towel I had set aside for him and held it up, waiting for him to stand up so I could wrap him in it. When he didn't stand, I sighed and tossed the towel over my shoulder. Let's try a different approach. "Gustave?"

"What?" the boy grumped.

"Can you please tell me who the lady is?" I kneeled down next to the tub, resting my arms on the edge. Gustave shook his head no "Does the lady work here?" Another shake of the head. "How do you know her?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Have I met her before?" Gustave growled in annoyance. I did not want to make him too upset this morning, so I decided to ask one more question. "Is the lady supposed to be a secret?"

Gustave's head snapped in my direction, his face showing his utter surprise. "How did you know?"

"So she is a secret!" I exclaimed.

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau, don't shout." Gustave whispered loudly. "I... I don't want you to get sent away too."

"Gustave, I am not going to get sent away." I said, taking the towel off my shoulder. "I know about the lady now, so you might as well tell me who she is."

"But you will get sent away!" Gustave whined. He grabbed my arm and shook his head with vigor. "You're the nicest nanny I've ever had, Mademoiselle Clerisseau. The last nanny I had was sent away because I told her about the lady. She made me promise to never tell anyone about her again." The child was nearly in tears, clutching at my sleeves. "I don't want you to go, Mademoiselle Clerisseau. Please don't make me tell you."

"Oh, Gustave," I cooed, lifting his chin to look me in the eyes. If I really meant this much to him, perhaps it was best that I not know who the lady was. Especially if it was something that could get me sent away. "I won't be going anywhere anytime soon. You don't have to tell me. I am sorry that I pushed you. Now let's get you dried off, okay?"

"Okay." Gustave sniffled. I rose to my feet, as did he, and I wrapped the towel around him. Just as I was finishing getting him dried off, there came a knock on his bedroom door. It was likely Madame Blanchet, coming to tell us that breakfast was waiting in the dining room. I hadn't even been able to wash up because I was busy taking care of Gustave. My dress was wet from bathing him and crumpled from last night. Most of my hair had fallen out of its braid and was a complete mess. Attending breakfast while looking like I had rolled out of bed minutes prior was not something I looked forward to.

Draping the towel over Gustave's shoulders, I excused myself to go answer the door. I grasped the doorknob and twisted it before pulling the door open. "Madame Blanchet, last night was..."

"Good morning, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." Monsieur Destler greeted, his eyes shooting daggers at me. Oh dear… "Can we step across the hall into your room for a moment?" What have I done?

A/n: Vivienne is in quite a predicament, isn't she? It does not help that Erik is a royal pain in the butt. Let's hope that she can survive whatever it is that he has to tell her. Leave some love in the reviews!