She entered her bedroom after a long day of chasing the children, feeling exhausted. It wasn't very often that they were able to wear her out, but they had certainly managed with all their arguing and carrying on. It was a difficult day to maneuver while maintaining one's sanity, she thought as she turned on the light and began kicking off her shoes. She stopped moving when she noticed a bottle of perfume upon her bedside table that wasn't hers. Cautiously, she approached and picked up the note beneath it, clearly Georg's handwriting.

Thank you.

Thank you for what, she wondered. She hadn't done anything special or different, surely nothing that he needed to thank her for. She picked up the perfume and opened the bottle. It smelled absolutely beautiful...and expensive. She put it back down on the table as if it burned her, frowning. The gesture was kind, but she wasn't sure she could accept something like that from him.

She didn't want to be offended, certain he wasn't 'paying her for her services' or anything of the sort, but it felt wrong just the same. She didn't see him for gifts, she saw him because she liked spending time with him. And he certainly didn't think she was the kind of woman who needed gifts to feel appreciated, did he?

No, she scolded herself, it was just a kind gesture. Nothing more or less. The end.

Except it wasn't the end, it either meant he was having more than feelings of lust for her or that he was hoping to appease her for something. Thank you for what? For being the governess to his children? She guaranteed he didn't buy expensive gifts for the rest of his staff. She knew for a fact she was the only one sleeping with him.

She shook her head and walked back out her door, tired of speculating and deciding to get to the bottom of the gift. They had never been anything but honest with one another, so there was no need to change their course now. As she walked down the stairs she saw the light on in his study, the door cracked slightly. Was he waiting for her to come and show how much she loved his gift? She felt rage at that notion, shaking her head at the thought as she knocked upon the door. He answered for her to come in, and she closed the door behind her when she met his eyes.

"You're not wearing shoes. Is something wrong?" She nodded, her fingers clasped in front of her. He stood and walked around his desk, brow furrowed at her state.

"I...did you leave me a gift?" He smiled, seemingly excited.

"Yes, I'm so glad you found it. Do you like it?" She was hesitant, choosing her words carefully.

"Yes, it's very lovely, thank you. I...um...I don't know what you're thanking me for, exactly." He tilted his head to the side, obviously confused.

"You don't?"

"No. Certainly not for...well." She looked to the ground, unable to say the words. Coming to see him was a mistake. She should have stayed with her thoughts for a while longer.

"You think I'm thanking you for going to bed with me?"

"You have to admit, it could seem that way." She saw his eyes change, suddenly feeling angry with her for suggesting such a thing.

"Maria, how can you think like that? I wanted to show you how much I appreciate your company, the talking kind of company." He corrected before she could respond. She felt ashamed. "Most women would not question my intentions."

"I'm not most women."

"You certainly are not." Brow furrowed, she gave him a look to show how insulted she felt.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"Most women would accept a gift of gratitude for what it is. You have to make it so damn complicated." He began to walk back to his desk, but she followed closely.

"I'm the one making things complicated? I have no idea what you're thinking half the time. How should I know your intentions?"

"It isn't clear how I feel about you? Maria, if I only cared about you for your body, I guaranty I would not spend the night wanting to hold you." He looked bashful at his admission, and she looked to the floor, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't know how she was supposed to think at his words. "Do you not think any more highly of yourself than this?"

"Georg, please, don't feel that you need to buy my company. It makes me feel like a whore." Her words were quiet, but he heard them loud and clear, and he was outraged.

"You are not and never will be. And you're getting ready to break one of the rules." She tried to hold back, but she felt a tear escape one of her eyes. She hurried to wipe it away quickly, hating the idea of showing such weakness in front of him.

"I feel like a completely different person now. I have no idea who I am. I look in the mirror, and I don't know who's looking back at me." She rubbed her hands over her face, groaning in frustration when she found tears upon her cheeks. "Do you feel nothing? Do you go to bed with her after you've been with me and feel perfectly fine with it all?"

"Maria..."

"Do you simply put on a new suit every day and nothing at all troubles you? I have no idea how you can be so cold about it all."

"Maria, enough." He took her by the shoulders, giving her a shake to get her attention. "First off, I feel everything, very deeply and very thoroughly. Second, I've been taught to hide my feelings my entire life. I'm terribly good at it. And third..."

"Yes?" She met his eyes when he didn't continue, sniffling a bit. He wasn't sure he wanted to continue, but he wanted her to know where they stood.

"Third...I've never taken her to my bed. You've been the only one since my wife died." Her heart beat heavily in her chest. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel with his admission, but she knew she was confused.

"I don't believe that."

"It's true either way. You've opened my eyes to a part of me that I thought died with her." She looked deeply into his eyes, seeing them prickle with tears as well. "That is why I thank you."

"I'm so sorry for what I said." She brought her hands to her cheeks, feeling badly for pushing him to reveal himself in such a way, but so glad he did. It at least gave her some insight into how he was feeling.

"No, I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel less than you are. I don't want you to feel that way about yourself." He pulled her into a hug, running his hands over her back. She held him tightly, taking him in.

"I'm terrified to continue this, but even more terrified not to. I don't want to stop." He pulled away enough to look into her eyes, and he gave her a gentle kiss upon the lips.

"Then let's not stop. Who says we have to?"

"It's so wrong...and I've broken one of the rules."

"Two now, actually."

"Still."

"Who cares; we're the ones who made them anyway." He kissed her again, glad to feel her finally smile against his lips.