-1"Monsieur, what is your relationship to the mademoiselle?" the doctor asked as they walked about the courtyard, his hands clasped behind his back. The snow had stopped and the sky cleared, making the temperature drop even more. The sun hurt Erik's sensitive eyes and bothered him greatly.
"She is my fiancé, Jacqueline de Soche from Vienna. We were on a trip here to visit family when she was attacked," Erik answered distantly, almost amazed at how easily the lie spilled forth. It would be sheer stupidity to reveal her identity to anyone, especially after such an attack. He stared absently at a barren, frozen rose bush, the gnarled vines barbed with long thorns. A twisted, dead rose hung forlornly on a stem, its previous beauty brittle.
"Do you have any idea of who it was that attacked her?"
"Non, I do not, monsieur…?"
"Ghiraldio. Witnesses would not testify who it was. They're scared or witless. Imbéciles(idiots)," he explained peevishly, stopping his walk to look seriously at Erik. He gazed back at the doctor and sighed wearily.
"What is wrong with her?" he asked quietly, dreading what the older man was to say. Ghiraldio turned to him fully and placed his hands bracingly on Erik's stiff shoulders. He opened his mouth but closed his eyes and lowered his head, collecting himself. Erik wanted to strangle him for his hesitance.
"Mademoiselle de Soche was stabbed through her womb. The tubes were severed and the damage is irreparable," he said in a forced voice, sadness clearly seeping through although he did not raise his eyes. Erik stared at his bowed head, a weight of terror weighing inside of him, smothering his breathing capabilities.
"What exactly are you saying, monsieur?" he croaked, knowing somehow that he must hear it full out. Ghiraldio raised his face and steeled himself visibly, tightening his grip on his shoulders. He stared honestly and sadly into Erik's eyes.
"Regrettably, I must inform you that due to the damage, your fiancé will never be able to bear children again."
A long, tense silence ensued, broken only by the flutter of pigeons above on the hospital roofs. A dark anger welled in Erik's heart, a murderous rage that he hadn't felt since the gypsies had beaten him, causing him to take his first life. He wanted to throttle the mean, to scream and cry and laugh in despair at the same time. Dead pain burned holes in his stomach and made his heart sink to nothing.
"What?"
"I am very sorry. We did all we could for we. All we managed to do is save her from bleeding to death."
"Did you say 'again'?"
"Oui, she appears to have recently carried and lost a child. Did you not know?"
"Non. Non I had not."
