Notes: You know, feedback is welcome, even though it will get updated regardless. ;)

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Andrea Cavalcanti. Benedetto. The name tasted bitter in his mouth, and every time he closed his eyes he could see that sneering mouth, twisted into a mocking smile, laughing at him for what he had done to Eugénie. Could see that immaculate blond hair, falling over his expensive suits, helping him to pretend to be someone he wasn't.

But… in many ways that made it harder to think about him; sometimes it struck him that Cavalcanti did look uncannily like Eugenie; that hair colour, that nose… even something about the eyes. He wondered how he had not noticed it, before.

Albert bit his lip and realised that he had been daydreaming, wasting time. Reluctantly he stood up, and made his way back to his room. His case lay open on the floor, and he dragged it up on the bed, before walking over to the windows and pulling open the heavy curtains which still darkened the room. It was a fair day, but slightly overcast, and did nothing to help Albert's mood.

He collected his things from the dressing table, catching a glimpse of himself in the large mirror as he did so. Albert had never been vain – indeed, he rarely had cause to consider his own appearance at all – but his reflection shocked him all the same. He had thought Eugénie and Maximilien had looked worse for wear – but he realised now that he looked just as bad. His blue eyes were surrounded by dark shadows, and his face looked drawn and pale. Though he'd combed his hair quickly when he had first got up, it now looked so unruly you could barely tell.

He sighed and turned back towards the bed, tossing the items in his hands gently into the case. He was just about to start collecting his clothes together, when he heard a soft knock sound on his door.

"Come in," he said curiously, and looked up as the door creaked open and Camille stuck his head through timidly, giving Albert a worried smile before stepping inside.

"Ahh, Monsieur…" he began quietly, as though not entirely sure he should be there, "there was talk… talk that you were going away."

Albert tried to busy himself with arranging the contents of his suitcase as Camille looked on in concern. He felt more than slightly guilty about abandoning his driver here, but what else could he do?

"I'm sorry…" he turned to face the younger man, and he couldn't hide the regret that showed in his eyes, "but, you know it's very urgent – personal business, and we'll need to take a car, so… but if there were another way…" It struck him then that he would miss Camille; had become accustomed to his cheery presence over the last year.

"A car?" Camille looked almost insulted, and Albert couldn't help but smile. The other man sighed a little, and looked far more youthful than even he should, "of course, I will do whatever you want. Wait here, or…" he refused to meet Albert's eyes then, dark hair falling into his eyes, "will you be gone long?"

Albert's reply was interrupted by his door swinging open again; this time without a knock preceding it, so of course it had to be Eugénie. She looked slightly surprised as she came in and found Albert with company – but of course she had not been at the house when Albert had arrived, and so had not been aware of Camille's quiet presence.

"Hopefully not," he said more confidently than he felt, continuing his conversation with his driver, "so, if you just stay here in the meantime…" Camille hesitated and then bowed, and gave him a look he couldn't quite read before swiftly exiting the room, leaving Albert and Eugénie alone.

"…who was that?" Eugénie sounded puzzled and slightly wary for some reason that Albert couldn't fathom.

"Ah, just my driver… I came here in a carriage, you see, so he's been with me for a while now." Albert returned to packing, and opened drawers in the dressing table to remove the folded clothes.

"…has he now…" Albert paused, looking up at Eugénie from where he crouched with slightly narrowed eyes and confusion in his voice.

"…and what's that supposed to mean?" He shoved the draws shut abruptly and returned to the bed, trying to fit everything into the case despite its objections. Albert pushed down on the top with one hand, while attempting to shut the clips with the other, gritting his teeth in annoyance.

"Just -- you know -- are you good… friends?"

That caught his attention, and his grip on the suitcase slipped, causing it to spring open violently.

"W-what?" His lips parted in surprise, eyebrows raised above slightly confused blue eyes; Albert was seriously hoping he'd misconstrued her comment. He felt his stomach sink as she seemed to find her own answer in his hesitation, and her voice when she next spoke was slightly uneven.

"I see. Well… oh -- I suppose that must mean… wait, Franz and you? I--"

Albert's eyes widened as he saw where her train of thought was leading, and momentarily panicked, interrupting her. "Look, Eugénie, it's not--"

She shook her head hurriedly, blonde curls bouncing, "please, no… it's all right… look, we have to leave in a few minutes, I'll -- I'll see you out front with Maximilien." And with that, she dashed out of the room without sparing him another look.

Albert rubbed at his temples wearily and sighed. He hadn't quite understood what she was getting at initially - and by the time he'd realised… well, she'd already drawn her own conclusions. He frowned, lost in thought as he returned his attentions to his rebellious suitcase which still rested open on the bed.

It was patently ridiculous, wasn't it? Wasn't it? He bit his lip and sat down on top of the case heavily, chin resting on one hand. Why would she have come to that conclusion in the first place? Surely he'd never given the impression that… well, there had been his infatuation with the Count, he had to admit. But that was -- that was different, right?

And Franz… why had she mentioned Franz? Surely she knew that there had never been anything between the three of them other than friendship? He and Franz had never made it look as though they… had they?

Suddenly, Albert felt very uncomfortable that perhaps, although Eugénie's assumptions were still very untrue, they were maybe not quite as illogically unfounded as he first thought.

With a heavy sigh he looked down, and noticed that, finally, the case was shut. Snapping the catches and fastening up the strap, he jumped off in relief, glad they could finally get going. Although he knew, at some point, that he was going to have to have a certain conversation with Eugénie. He hefted his suitcase up off the bed, and dragged it with difficulty out to the front door, where Maximilien and Eugenie were waiting impatiently.

"Sorry," he murmured, but Eugénie wasn't meeting his eyes, and Maximilien was pacing distractedly.

"Right! Now we're all here, let's go," the young woman said, a new burst of energy suffusing her voice, brought on by the promise of action. She looked at Maximilien and nodded, but still avoided Albert. He gripped his suitcase handle tightly, annoyed and embarrassed by the persistent misunderstanding. But he couldn't' possibly say anything here, not while…

He shook his head and followed the other two outside to where Eugénie's car waited still, hefting his case into the back once Maximilien opened the boot. The blonde girl had jumped straight into the driver's seat, where she waited impatiently for the two men to join her. With a loud slam, the boot was shut, and Albert took his place in the back, while Maximilien sat beside Eugénie in the front.

It was sixteen minutes past eight in the morning when they finally left, gravel being churned out up onto the dewy grass as Eugénie hit the accelerator with less restraint than she had showed in a long while. The sky was noncommittal, verging on promising rain one minute, and sun the next - but most of the time, it settled on blank grey clouds.

The gates swung slowly shut on the entrance to the driveway of the Morrells' home, and Maximilien knew that he would rather die than return through them without Valentine. Eugénie obviously shared this sense of urgency, keeping them to the quiet back roads so that she could speed along recklessly without any real threat of getting caught.

The wind was picking up, and a chill was starting to set in, so they finally raised the roof to try and keep some warmth in. Albert was certainly glad for it; he'd become more accustomed to travelling in his carriage - and though he did frequently exit to sit at the front with Camille, it certainly never went at the insane speeds of a car like Eugénie's.

The roads stretched out before them, and Albert couldn't help but wonder that perhaps it might have been better to go by plane; Paris was a long way from Marseille… but Eugénie and Maximilien seemed focused and determined on what they were doing, so he supposed for the moment it would be best to leave them to it - since Maximilien would never to anything to compromise the safety of Valentine.

They passed solely through countryside for a very long time; it was clear Eugénie was avoiding as many of the main roads as possible - green stretched out on either side of them for miles at a time. However, eventually continuing on this way became impossible, and so they were forced to slow down once they reached more urban areas.

Eugénie made a sound of annoyance as they hit their first real delay; a small road accident a few hours out of Marseille. Albert could see her scanning the road, searching for an opening they could take to get them past this with minimum trouble. Having spent so much time with Eugénie in the car before, Albert knew that something like this wouldn't take her long - and, sure enough, within a few minutes Eugénie had weaved them in and out safely around the delay, and they were soon speeding back on their way.

They were still travelling even as night fell. Eugénie was driving with a kind of fierce, focused determination that Albert had never quite seen in her before - it was as though she would stop for nothing or nobody. Silence had long since become the usual for the journey; idle chatter was something that none of them felt up to, and they had long since exhausted any useful kind of discussion about what might await them at their destination.

Albert knew that there was no intention of stopping. They'd pause in the journey rarely - only when a brief break was truly necessary. He'd heard Eugénie quietly talking over the driving plan with Maximilien earlier; one could drive, while the other slept. It suddenly made him feel immensely guilty, and somewhat useless, since he was the only one who wouldn't be able to help to share those responsibilities.

An hour later, and Maximilien was in the driver's seat, eyes focused on the dark road ahead, ground lit only by the piercing beams of the car's headlamps. Eugenie was taking the opportunity to rest, head tilted back against the seat, eyes shut and face relaxed. It seemed apparent to Albert that she must be asleep, since it was the first time in a couple of days that he had seen her lose that perpetually worried look that seemed to permanently reside in her face.

The darkness did nothing to help his mood; combined with the silence and protracted periods of simply sitting and doing nothing, it seemed almost like a conspiracy to force him to brood. Because… no matter what, he simply couldn't push that conversation he'd had earlier with Eugenie out of his mind. Why had she been acting like that? What exactly had brought it all on?

It really can't have seemed that odd to her that he was travelling with Camille; the man was, after all, his driver - and Eugénie knew full well that Albert could not drive himself. (A fact which stared him embarrassingly in the face now, and which he was determined to remedy as soon as possible) So… what, then? Obviously, this was something that had been lurking at the back of her mind for quite a while - and she had… oh, she had mentioned Franz.

Albert sighed and slouched down in his seat, tilting his head back and shutting his eyes in frustration, willing for everything to go away.

Franz. Yes, it was still painful, even after confronting the memory of his friend so many times. He still kept Franz's letter with him, though he'd never told anyone - and probably wouldn't, even if they thought to ask. But - Eugénie. She thought… she thought that he and Franz… that Franz…

But that was impossible, wasn't it? Impossible that those bright, warm eyes, that happy smile, those curving lips, that honest face…

He still remembered the day that they had met, at the funeral of Franz's father. He vividly recalled the upset little blond boy he'd followed round the back and sought out to play with. It had started then; their friendship, that is. But… a thousand little events and moments were coming back to him, and all of a sudden, things were visible in a whole new light.

It wasn't an earth shattering revelation, Albert would think later, it was a powerful, creeping feeling which sneaked up on him and stole his breath away. He felt hollow; empty, and sick to his stomach. It wasn't a realisation which lifted a weight from his shoulders, no - instead he felt as though he was being crushed under these new thoughts.

Albert was used to feeling as though he was somehow missing something; that he was naïve, oblivious - so many people had thought of him that way… and though over the past few years he thought he had finally matured, and moved on - in a lot of ways, it definitely seemed he had not. He felt his faults sorely now, bringing his knees up to rest his chin on them, eyes cracking open to look up out of the window at the starry sky above.

How could he… have been so blind?

It affected nothing, he knew that. Even looking back on everything, he had to admit to himself that if he had known, what would have changed? Would anything have gone differently? Probably… not. Albert knew he had been too absorbed in Eugénie to consider Franz's love-life - apart from to know all too well that his friend did not want to be engaged to Valentine.

He felt the familiar waves of guilt and anger wash over him - now, this was something he was used to. And it wouldn't pass, it never did - but it would fade, and gradually slip to the back of his mind until the next time. Guilt, at not having been able to save him. At being the reason Franz ended up taking part in that idiotic duel anyway. At constantly arguing with him and wasting so much of the little time they didn't realise they had left together. And anger; at Franz for being so reckless and stupid and selfish and selfless and---

Albert drew in a shuddering breath, suddenly desperately glad that Maximilien and Eugénie -- oh especially Eugénie -- were sitting in the front. Thinking of Franz always brought on his fear of losing those dear to him, and their presence was a comfort, although the thought of what might be happening to Valentine chilled him. He tried to clear his mind, but found that it wouldn't become blank so easily now. He still needed some time to consider what he'd realised, and absorb the impact, but he also knew that, now more than ever, he truly needed to have a talk with the blonde girl.

Almost on cue, Eugénie began to stir and sleepily opened her eyes, blinking in confusion.

Albert said nothing, as he knew he would. Now was not the time; Eugénie was yawning and gesturing tiredly ahead of them, quietly asking Maximilien a question. Albert couldn't quite catch what they were saying, but saw Maximilien shake his head as Eugénie pleaded - knowing her, he guessed she must be trying to persuade Maximilien to let her drive again. But it was still dark, and Eugénie still looked like she hadn't slept in a week, so Albert supposed that it was for the best.

It was quite a long time before he managed to fall asleep himself; distracting thoughts plagued his mind, and made it difficult to relax. Eventually, though, exhaustion won out and he drifted into a light, uneasy sleep.

When he awoke with a slight jump, it was dawn, and Eugénie was back behind the wheel. The sky was pale and translucent; streaks of pink smeared the blue, and an overlay of dappled grey clouds threatened eventual rain. A quick glance around through half closed eyes determined that though they were still travelling through the countryside, it was nowhere near as rural as it had been around Marseille. There were trees and fields, yes - but buildings and farmhouses dotted the landscape, and the horizon held the promise of a densely populated area.

He sat up with a slight groan, the small of his back aching annoyingly from having fallen asleep in such an awkward position. Albert was squinting from the low rising sun shining almost directly in his eyes, and felt mussed and like he needed nothing quite as much as a good shower. In all he had certainly felt better. Eugénie glanced back briefly as she heard him wake up, before returning her attention to the road as they sped up a little more.

"Maximilien's still asleep," she said quietly, and he saw a shiver run through her, the morning chill still vicious at this hour. He nodded, shrugging lightly to indicate he had no intention of making any kind of noise. Silence reigned again, and he stifled a yawn against the back of his hand.

The rest of the journey passed uneventfully; Maximilien and Eugénie continued to share the driving, and Albert continued to ponder his own thoughts.