Days passed, and she saw no more of him. She knew this from the Opera. He would not be so easily persuaded to come by again. She had asked him for honesty and he had given her honesty. And so she sat alone, pining his words, reaching the same conclusion over and over again. he was right. She was so determined to be treated as a woman, a wife, a Comtesse, an adult...but she wasn't. Inside she had remained the pitiful, pouting chorus girl who never got what she deserved.
"You seem unhappy, Madama. Can I get you anything?"
She tried to smile. "No thank you Franca, I simply have a lot to think about."
Franca looked outside. "Would you perhaps care for some fresh air? The weather is warm and gentle, and Dottore Romani did say fresh air would help restore your lungs."
Suddenly the idea warmed Christine to no extend. "Could I Franca? It would be so good to feel the sun on my face again!"
Franca smiled and walked over to the dress cabinet. Christine had forgotten completely about it, since that evening that he had presented her with the beautiful dressing gown. She carefully walked over, and discovered a complete wardrobe. Her reaction was as shocked as Franca's had been. Evening gowns, day dresses, skirts and blouses, everything was there! All of it was new, nothing had been brought from the estate, this she immediately noticed. Quickly she chose a blouse and skirt. To her shock, Franca started dressing her with no corset to wear.
"Do you really want to let your lungs suffer any more as they already have, Madama di Chiangi?" Christine couldn't help but laugh at the girl's determination, and the lovely way she pronounced her name.
As they made their way outside, Christine finally had a chance to look around the Palazzo in amazement. Palazzo Persico, of course. The Persian Palace. It suited him. Everything looked as impeccable as he did himself, polished to perfection. The colours, the paintings, the furniture, everything in a perfect harmonious balance. The garden was situated in between the different wings of the Palazzo, a central square.
A blend of plants and flowers grew in perfect patterns, and without even looking she knew what she would find in it's centre. There it was, a perfect rose hedge. Not yet in bloom but already forming thick buds, yearning to be touched by the sunlight like herself. She gently touched its delicate leaves, not knowing she was being watched from an upstairs window. How much better she looked. Still pale, not very strong, but her eyes showed a curious glitter and her cheeks a healthy rose that he hadn't seen in a long time.
"Nicole!" he turned around to where the girl was reading a book to Céline. "I believe our little Céline could do with some fresh air."
And so it came to be that while sitting in the sun, her eyes closed at its soothing warmth, Christine suddenly heard quick footsteps and a trembling little voice. "Maman, maman, you've come to play!"