Author's notes: Haha, success! Success! Thanks for all the reviews, they're much appreciated!

MG – thanks! Read on…

longblacksatinlace– no spoilers, no spoilers. I myself have a general idea what's gonna happen, but the details are evolving.

Elenion-Ancalima – no spoilers. :-) But thanks – my first attempt at originality is successful!

Mina – I'm still wondering if I should add le Fop or not. Hmm… since you're begging, here's an update!

Enrinye– a bit earlier? It's almost 40 years earlier! (enigmatic smirk about the Persia comment) I'm not telling you anything. Don't worry, it'll be okay. Hey, I've told you all I could about the Kay version. You have to read it someday! It's cool! As for your Chapter II review: Mwahahaha, success!

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Chapter III

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In the two following weeks, Christine's presence in the house became a natural thing. She shared Luciana's room for the first few days, but eventually it was decided (much against Luciana's liking) that she would rather move to the guest room, though the Italian girl rarely allowed her to do anything alone, sleeping being the only exception.

The Swedish girl got used to speaking Italian quickly, since it was one of the languages she spoke quite fluently. Unfortunately, with Luciana constantly demanding her attention, she had little opportunity to even venture out of the house. Day after day, Luciana would want a song – a song in the morning, after lunch, a lullaby… and Christine's throat eventually got so sore that Giovanni had to persuade his daughter that it would be best to let her rest for a few days.

Since she could only speak in a near-whisper, Luciana soon seemed to lose interest, constantly escaping to some dream world Christine couldn't quite perceive, let alone see a reason for that. It turned out that her cousin had changed after all, more than she suspected.

When she was finally able to speak again, after three days of quiet whispers, it didn't even surprise her that Luciana demanded a song again. Leaving a note on the kitchen table, she rather snuck out of the house and into the Roman streets than spend another minute in the house – the house that begun to seem more and more of a prison each day. She had no idea what had happened there, but had more than a few suspicions.

Asking at a marketplace for directions – thank God Giovanni had told her what street they were building on – she finally arrived at the site. He uncle saw her quickly, the sight of a blue dress easy to distinguish, considering the surroundings. He was just watching the building at the moment, playing with ideas in his mind, so there was nothing wrong with interrupting that work.

"Christine!" the girl's head quickly moved to him – she was staring at the building with awe, but smiled as she saw him approaching her. "Child, what are you doing here?" Then he realized why and smiled. "Luciana is already driving you out of your mind?"

"Uncle, what has happened to her? I know she used to have her 'moments', but this is a bit extreme – these are tantrums!"

Giovanni signed. He understood why, of course, but was he supposed to tell her? If he would tell her, she might realize she was slowly falling into the trap that caught Luciana and evade it. If he wouldn't­… no, he had to. It would be better.

"It is complicated, bella." His gaze dropped to the ground. "And yet very simple." Then he glanced up at the second story of the building – the one they were currently finishing – his eyes resting on a dark silluette.

Christine looked at him, then at the spot he was now looking at… and she understood. She didn't have to see the person in the light to see who it was. It was as she had feared. She knew very well Luciana was not used to denial and it was to be expected that she would react badly, if something she wanted wouldn't be given to her. And if she was being denied the attention of someone who seemed to be just as stubborn and strong-willed as she, if not more thickheaded, she could only imagine what a war zone the seemingly peaceful house she was to spend the rest of the summer was.

She nodded, her eyes studying the ground intensely for a moment.

"Christine, I know you are a reasonable girl and understand what is happening. I had found this boy wandering the streets of Rome alone and gained his trust only with time. As briefly as you have known him, I am sure you can see he is… different in many ways." Another nod. "I would be very sad to lose what took so long to build. Luciana has already shattered too many things and is close to breaking things that cannot be mended. I beseech you, do not make the same mistake my daughter is making."

"The mistake of being amazed or the mistake of demanding what can never be mine?" she asked with a smile despite the seriousness of the whispered question.

Giovanni didn't return the smile, even though he might have wanted to. His niece probably understood only the surface. For now, it was enough. For now. "Be wary of both mistakes, Christine." And to change the subject, "But you shouldn't just stand around here. Come, I shall give you some paper and you can sketch, if you like. I remember you used to be very good."

"Uncle, you know my sketching has no future." The childish pout made Giovanni smile at long last. The sketches he had seen long ago were wonderful, because Christine had a very good eye. The only thing he regretted that she always sketched only things she could see and never tried to express her own feelings with the pencil in her hand,

"There is no shame in having it as a hobby, at least."

"I haven't practiced for very long."

"Come, try it, at least." He took her hand, leading her to the table with plans and sketches he was sitting at moments ago. Collecting the plans, he produced a clean sheet of paper and a few pencils for her to sketch with.

When she was ready to start, Christine once again looked up at him. "What would you like me to draw?"

"Use your imagination, child. It will be your work, not mine." Glancing around, he noticed one of the statues being prepared for the building.

The future owner was a very devoted Catholic, so he wanted his house to be decorated properly. As such, most of the statues that were going to be used were symbols of Christianity… such as the marble angel he saw there. The statue was still missing a head, though – the customer had not yet decided on that. Besides, it was a detail that would have to wait until the end of the month, when the final phases of the building would be set into motion.

"But if you really want my advice, I would say you could try that angel statue. It has a lot of details, so I think you will need to do several sketches. And you would really be doing a few people a favor here if you could come up with a suitable head for the damned thing – the customer keeps changing his opinion about what it should look like."

With a smile, Christine collected the things she needed from the table and found a wooden plank she could use instead of the table, took her chair and moved as close as she could to the statue, claiming that if this was supposed to be done properly, she had to see the details clearly.

It was actually very relaxing to be finally doing something productive and creative, without having to damage her voice for someone's personal pleasure.

Giovanni watched her for a few minutes, content that she had found something to do. He saw that his daughter's constant demands were deeply affecting her, now allowing her the rest she needed. After all, even Christine wanted this to be a holiday, not a prison camp.

"Sir, the progress is not hindered anymore. It seems the change of the material has improved everything."

Since he was used to "the appearing/disappearing act" by now, Giovanni wasn't at all startled to find Erik standing next to him without seeing him approach, after about an hour of going through the new designs they had discussed previously and keeping an eye on Christine.

He nodded. "Very good, Erik. I think we might finish a few days earlier, if everything goes according to plan. Another customer will be surprised, it seems."

"It would all be far easier if the man would simply accept the designs without the pompous sequins he insists upon." Erik muttered, almost to himself.

"Well, I hope my personal designer will find a way to deal with that problem." He motioned to the small figure about a hundred meters away, who was now standing, examining the statue from every angle, then returning to her chair and taking up once again her unfinished work. Erik noticed her as well, surprised at her presence and then at the care with which she was working.

The boys who were responsible for carrying the statue around had already surrounded Christine, not sparing any compliments when they saw what she was attempting to do. She had finished the main part of her task, so only the head was missing.

"That is wonderful work, miss. I think the designers couldn't have done it better."

"Though Fabian is an intolerable idiot, I must agree with him this time, miss." After that, the boy received a whack from said idiot.

"But forgive our manners. I am Fabian, this oh-so-intelligent bloke is Paolo and those two idiots gawping at you are Dino and Benito. And what might your name be?"

Christine laughed lightly and introduced herself as well, causing Paolo to frown. "I heard the master has some relative visiting these days… wouldn't it by any chance be you?" when she nodded, he smiled. "Figures. Talent runs in the family."

"I should add that beauty does as well, but you are the first female from the master's family that I have seen and it would be really disturbing to compare you to the master." Dino added, since he stopped gawping a bit. The others and Christine laughed.

"Thank you for the compliments, but it isn't finished by far." Christine frowned, "I have no idea how I am going to continue."

"It's wonderful so far."

"Perhaps, but I cannot sketch things I cannot see. I'm not a creative artist."

"Well, I don't think you will find much inspiration for an angel's head round here."

But Fabian snapped his fingers suddenly and pulled something out of his pocket. It turned out to be a mirror – it was old, the golden frame was scratched in several places and the glass was a bit dirty, but it was still usable. He polished it a bit and handed it to Christine.

"Now you can continue without problems, miss." He noted proudly as Christine examined the object.

"What is she supposed to do with a mirror, you dolt?" Paolo snapped.

Fabian rolled his eyes. "Well, look in it, obviously. That's the best inspiration she will get – it'll be easy to draw an angel when looking at one." He noted triumphantly.

Christine's eyes dropped to the picture on her lap and she blushed slightly, mumbling her thanks. It went mostly unnoticed by the boys because of two things: one, because they were too busy either rolling their eyes and saying that they would have said the same thing, but it sounded too sugary to them and pointing out the obvious was unnecessary and two, because they had little time to do anything before a cool voice behind them said:

"And it would also be much easier if you would stop bothering the lady and get to work. You're late already."

All four shrunk under Erik's gaze – the sight of him with folded arms was enough to warn them that this wasn't a joke. With quick mutters of "Yes, sir." "At once, sir." and a second later "Pleasure to meet you, miss Christine." they scurried away as quickly as they came.

Just to make sure they wouldn't just try to slip away from work again, Erik watched them until they disappeared behind the walls, but even as he spoke to Christine, he didn't turn to her.

"Please forgive the intrusion, mademoiselle. They are unused to seeing a lady around here, much less one such as yourself."

"That is alright. I am used to these things from the Conservatoire. I should be the one apologizing for disturbing your work."

"There is no need. They would have no doubt found another reason why to come late. One more time and we'll be needing new workers."

"Strive for excellence, not perfection, monsieur." He finally turned to face her, glancing at her with some surprise. "Not all can see the world through your eyes. They might not understand."

"Yes, but unfortunately, I can't finish the building on my own."

Christine laughed. "Yet you seem determined to try."

"I never leave a job half-unfinished." Erik noted.

"That is probably the one thing we have in common." With a smile, Christine picked up her pencil again. "But I have taken too much of your time. Your workers need you and I need to finish my task as well. My uncle wouldn't be pleased if I wouldn't finish this."

"I think he is more pleased with you than you know, mademoiselle."

She shook her head, both because she didn't believe that and because of the title. "I have told you that there is nothing wrong with calling me Christine."

"It wouldn't be appropriate, mademoiselle – your uncle is my master and you are a guest at the house."

"True. But then again, how will you distinguish me and Luciana?" He almost winced at the sound of that name. "She is also 'mademoiselle'."

"The two of you are impossible to mistake for each other. But if it will be necessary, I will have to take the liberty of addressing you as mademoiselle Christine."

A shrug. "A start, I suppose. It was nice to see you again, monsieur."

"Must you insist on that title, mademoiselle?" Not that he didn't appreciate it, he was simply unused to it. And it sounded strange that such a civilized girl would address him, of all people, with such respect.

Since she was waiting for such a reaction, she said: "Just as you insist on my title, monsieur."

Quite innocently.

"Very well then… Christine." It earned him a smile. "I will leave you to your work." He turned to leave, wavering only for a second. "The fools might not tell the truth, but that mirror does." And he briskly walked away, even though he sensed her quizzical glance.

Enigmatic as that final half-whispered observation was, Christine decided to see how it would look if she would take the advice and give the angel statue her head. While it felt utterly silly and egotistical, the result was quite satisfying.

The angel looked like her, there was no doubt about it – the same hair, same eyes, only the smile was absent. Angels had to be strict in a way, she reasoned, and the thoughtful expression she drew seemed suitable to her.

After she was finished, she ran to show the sketch to Giovanni, who smiled as he examined it, praising her work. It was almost dusk already and most of the workers were preparing for dinner, but those who had passed Christine while she was drawing and praised her even with an approving glance came to bid her farewell – Giovanni convinced her it might be good to go check upon Luciana. Besides, he didn't want her wandering the streets after dark.

When she was gone and the workers were dining, he went to search for Erik, who, as usual, didn't eat for the whole day.

"If you would have enough time, I'm quite sure you would build this on your own." Giovanni said as he found his student on the second floor, fixing part of the wall.

"You should go get some food, sir. You need to save your strength."

"I am quite fine, boy, it's you I'm concerned about. Christine's visit was unexpected, otherwise I would have advised her against it."

"She is gone, then?"

Giovanni nodded. "Gone and finished her work." He showed Erik the finished sketch. "She left it here. I asked her to leave it. I want to show it to that Ruggiero fellow – see if he can finish it according to this. He's a talented sculptor, so all I need if the client's approval."

"Does Christine know you want to do this?"

"I would like to surprise her." Giovanni noted, hiding a smile at the sound of Christine's name. If they got beyond the strict formalities, perhaps it wasn't that risky to have her around. Perhaps it was actually just what they needed. "But maybe I should rather bring her here more often, so she can design some more – you know well how… persistent… Luciana can be when it comes to seeking attention. The girl needs some peace."

Still looking at the paper in his hands, Erik nodded. He knew of those things all too well.

"If it bothers you, though, I can ask one of the neighbors to show her around the city instead of bringing her here. I know she will find both equally enjoyable."

"No." Was the slightly sharp reply. "No, it doesn't bother me at all. As long as it won't change anything, she is free to come here if she wishes to." He was still looking at the sketch. It seemed right to see her face as the angel's and if anything was certain, it was no matter how vain their customer was, this was bound to please him.

"Good sketches are hard to come by."

"This one had the perfect inspiration, sir." With that, Erik handed him the paper and disappeared back into the shadows, but judging from the sounds that resumed, he was once again double-checking the work.

Giovanni, slightly puzzled, looked at the paper once more. It took him about a minute (because of the darkness he was standing in) to see just how much the face resembled Christine's.