He could not remember how long it had been since he had had his last night of sleep. It was now at least a week since he had received that cursed letter, that had sent his whole life into turmoil. Again he was wondering why he had ever allowed himself to do what he did. "Weakling!" his spirit shouted. "She will leave you as soon as her legs can carry her again! She will not love you, she chose against you! She bore another's child!" And yet, every time he looked over at the bed where Christine was fighting against her feverish dreams, he could not help but cry for joy. He had found her in time. He was her Angel once more. She had begged, prayed for him to return and so he had. He would see her well and happy even if would mean the ruin of him.

The sun calmly rose over the rooftops of Venice, bringing the promise of a beautiful spring day, as Franca softly knocked on the door to Christine's room. When she received no reply she cautiously walked in to find the lady in peaceful slumber and her master in a chair by the bed, drifting in and out of sleep, waking at her slightest movement.

"Maestro?" She softly called out, keeping at an appropriate distance from the both of them.

"Good morning Franca. Please come in." He sounded...different. Sleepy but friendly, not at all irritated by her presence.

"How is your lady, Maestro?" Wrong.

"First of all, Franca, Madame de Changy is not MY Lady! You would do better to remove that thought from every feverish brain in this household at once!"

She shuddered, but immediately heard him return to the honey-sweet voice from before. "Her night was relatively calm, but her lack of breath worries me. Instruct Dottore Romani to visit us as quick as can be."

Franca nodded, happy she had not fallen out of grace.

"I will send a message immediately Maestro. Anything you might need...some food perhaps? Truly you look very poorly this morning!" Her usual wittiness had taken over, standing before him arms crossed as the mother of a large family.

"I have no need for anything, just for the lady to heal. I would appreciate it if you would take her under your care Franca. These servant girls...they remind me of those Ballet Rats at the Opera House. Always talking too much for their own good. Madame de Changy has had to deal with many losses lately and is in a very fragile state. I need someone around her I can trust." Franca fell silent at such a compliment.

"I...of course, Maestro. I will tend to her as well I can." He gave her a faint, but tired smile.

"Thank you Franca. Remember, you are not her maid, you report directly to me. Madame is in no state to make any decisions right now, let alone instruct you!"

She curtsied and was about to leave when he called her back. " Franca...I trust the child is well accommodated?"

Franca smiled. "She is at the end of the hall, Maestro. Her room is somewhat...sober for such a small child, but it will do. She has a good nurse looking out for her. But she misses her mother dearly. She is too young to comprehend why she is kept from her."

He just looked at her blankly, vaguely nodding at her words. Christine stirred in her bed, vaguely mumbling names and phrases that did not seem to match up. A nightmare was on it's way, he could tell. He shot towards her bed, putting a cool cloth to her forehead, whispering soft consolations. Embarrassed, Franca tiptoed out of the room to call for the Dottore...