Erik smiled, glancing up from his compositions. Gustave was happily sitting on the rug, scribbling something down on a sheet of paper. He stood and walked over to Adellade, tugging on her dress. She saw what he had done, a happy smile on her face as she went to hug him.

His son had been growing up fast for the years that had passed-it was hard to believe that his son was six years old now. In all those years he had learned to explore the house faster than either of his parents had wanted-though Erik couldn't help but chuckle as Gustave had climbed up onto the piano and had started playing the keys, laughing at the noise he had made. He adored his mother's singing and his father's playing, staring at them both with wide eyes in awestruck admiration. Then Gustave had discovered his father's sketches of the opera house and had wanted to learn more and more about the construction, designing buildings of his own that he would build someday just like his father had.

Most of all, Gustave loved whenever Adellade had come to visit. He had always been happy to see her ever since he was little, calling her "Addie" when he couldn't pronounce her name. He had always begged her for a story and she had been more than happy to oblige whether it was by reading one of her books to him or making a story up.

Erik sighed, watching as they played together. Christine had once pointed out to him how Adellade would make a wonderful mother one day, since Gustave adored her so much. She had always been like that-happy to set aside what she was doing and look after the other children. Whenever families would come to the inn, she had been more than happy to watch their youngest and interact with them. Erik had noticed the times the parents would attempt to slip her some money, only to have it returned to them.

Still…. He couldn't help but recall the conversation they had had once….

"You ought to have told Erik," he murmured, rubbing her back.

"Would you have been able to do anything to help?" she asked.

"Erik might have been able to find you something better than what those women gave you!"

"I was desperate." Adellade winced as the remainder of her stomach contents made its way into the bucket. "Are you upset?"

"That you took a poison without letting Erik know about it? Yes."

She sighed, pushing the bucket away as she leaned back, resting her head against the wall. "I was desperate. As soon as I found out, I wanted it gone. You must hate me now."

"No. Erik could never hate you, Adellade. Never." He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Erik is upset about the poison, but only because he almost lost you as a result."

"So you don't hate me? Because I remember what you told me. How she tried to get rid of you, only it didn't work."

"That was because she was a greedy woman who didn't want her life ruined by a son she never wanted in the first place. I'm certain your reasons-whatever they may be-are much better than hers."

Adellade sighed and hugged her knees against her chest. "I don't want to end up like her. I'm terrified that I could. That's why I did it. So I wouldn't turn into her-into a mother who would sell her own children away to gypsies…."

She sniffed and started crying. Erik wrapped his arms around her, hugging her against his chest. "You won't, Adellade," he murmured. "You never could. Never."

"I couldn't risk it. I couldn't."

The door opened and Christine walked in. Gustave stood and ran over to his mother, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Did they love your singing again, mother?" he asked.

"They always do," Erik pointed out, going to greet her.

"Did the conductor make that face again? The one he always makes when the violinist gets something wrong? Adellade said he would make that face again!"

She smiled and ruffled her son's hair. "Well she is never wrong."

"I ought to be going," she pointed out, standing.

"You'll be back though, won't you?" Gustave asked. "You have to finish the story! The one about the brave knight who rescues the princess!"

"Of course."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

XXXXX

"Strange, isn't it?" Nadir asked as they walked. "How easily Erik's become a father these past years."

"I wouldn't think it strange at all." Adellade smiled, looping her arm through his. "I told him he would make an excellent father! And Christine truly has been a wonderful mother."

"Indeed. Though I must say that your time has been spent with Gustave more often than with me. I tend to miss your frequent visits and all."

"You know I'll always come and visit you, Nadir!"

"I know." He smiled. "What can I say? I've grown old these past few years. Makes a man wish for the days of his youth."

"You're not that old yet," she argued. "I'm quite certain Erik would argue otherwise to keep you around."

"You think so?"

"He secretly cares."

"Perhaps I ought to mention the topic next time I see him."

She smiled, leaning on him as they walked. "You know he'll deny every word."

"I would be shocked if he didn't."

"He still secretly cares for you. You are his friend, you know."

"Then he has a very strange way of showing his friendship. Though I do suppose that being a father helps some. He's threatened my life less now that he has a son to look after."

"Truly?"

"I suppose it helps that I haven't been around Gustave as much. Honestly he does prefer your company to anyone else's."

"I don't suppose he has much company other than his parents."

"I will say this though: you would make quite an excellent mother. You're a natural with Gustave."

"I don't think I'll ever be a mother," she pointed out.

"Why not?"

"I never imagined myself as a mother. Every time I thought of the future: I never saw myself having children." She sighed. "If I ever did have children...I fear I may turn into Madeline…."

Nadir paused and she looked at him. "I can very well assure you that your mother could never be half the woman you are. You're kind, brave, and any man would be lucky to have you as his wife. Now I never did know Madeline well, but I can tell that you would never be her, Adellade. Not for one moment."

"Truly?"

"Truly."