And I was catching my breath

Floors of a cabin creaking under my step

And I couldn't be sure

I had a feeling so peculiar

This pain wouldn't be for

Evermore


Change is a funny thing.

Change can be subtle or abrupt. It can come slowly or all at once. More often than not, change is intangible. Change is untouchable. One cannot simply reach out and grab change.

And yet, as Maria sat at the dinner table that evening, she could feel the electric buzz of change from all around the table. The children practically vibrated from excitement, while the Captain's smile never seemed to falter. She couldn't reach out and touch the change that had occurred that day at the von Trapp villa, no, but she could feel the static in the air as something shifted.

With the electric feel that had charged the better part of the afternoon and that evening, she couldn't help the smile that plastered her own face for the remainder of the day. The children were so happy. They were elated to have their father's attention, to be heard by the man they loved so much. They had spent the afternoon vying for his attention, trying to tell him everything and nothing all at once. Where he might have once admonished the eruption of noise and excitement, he had laughed – laughed – and listened.

She couldn't believe her eyes. Here he was, the man the children had spent weeks telling her about, and she couldn't believe it. After the way he had treated her on the landing, the way he had refused to hear a word she spoke, she had thought all hope was lost. She had resolved with herself that she could not reason with a man who chose to be stuck in his own misery. The warm, kind man was gone forever. She had thought then and there that he had died along with his wife.

And then the children had sung, their voice raised in song that carried out to their ears and she knew it was all over. She was done, and he would hate her for teaching his children to sing, for allowing music back into their lives. She had tried not to feel the breaking of her heart too acutely. She hadn't realized just how much she would miss the children until she was faced with leaving them.

She hadn't meant to spy. She had meant to pack up her things and get ready to return to the Abbey, but she had heard a voice – a voice she was shocked to belong to him. She had caught a moment that seemed so absurd to her own eyes that she could do nothing but stand there breathless and watch as the last notes trailed off and the air grew thick with emotion. She could see the tears on the children's faces. She could see the hope, the longing, the optimism brightening their eyes, and she hoped that this was the moment. She hoped he wouldn't let them down.

He didn't. She saw him smile. She saw him pull them into his arms and brush their cheeks and look at them as if they were his children. She felt her heart warming within her as she watched the intimate scene unfold, as she watched the positively overjoyed faces of the children as they had gained their father back.

She could at least leave with the knowledge that the children would be fine now – that they had the love of their father that they had desired for so long.

Except, she didn't leave. He asked her to stay. She had all but lectured him about his parenting methods and his neglectful behaviour, and he had asked her to stay, and she was grateful. She was more than happy to be able to stay, to continue her work with the children and with the von Trapp family as a whole. She was ecstatic to stay and carry out His will, to do the work He had brought her there for.

It was exactly what Maria had been hoping for. As she looked around the table at the beaming children and the smiling Captain, she knew that this was the image she had been holding onto for weeks, praying every night that He see it fit to be reality.

And yet, it still didn't feel real.

As she watched the Captain laugh and chat conversationally with his children, it felt as if it were a dream. It felt as if she would wake up any minute and see the cold, distant Captain standing over the children instructing them to march about the grounds.

Perhaps that's why she stayed so quiet at dinner – she was too busy waiting to be woken up. Or perhaps it was because she was afraid of what would come out if she had opened her mouth. She had been unforgivably outspoken out on the landing. She had taken low blows and had made sure that he had felt them, and she couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

Maybe what she had said had helped, but did that give her the right to berate him like that? He was her employer, after all. She was here to do a job for him, and she had acted entirely out of line. Whether or not he had told her that she had helped or that what she had said was okay, the things she had said to him didn't sit well with her.

"Father?" One of the children asked as Maria began to remove herself from her reverie and return to the chatter amongst the table.

"Yes, Kurt?" the Captain replied, his tone light and airy, and not at all like the man she had met nearly a month ago. In fact, if she hadn't seen him speak with her own two eyes, she wouldn't have guessed it was he who spoke.

"W-would you…" the boy trailed off, his eyes no longer on his father but on the half empty plate before him. His jaw was set in a hard line as the boy clearly struggled with himself, and she saw the Captain's defeated look as he registered the hint of fear that resided in the quiver in his son's breath.

The Captain raised his eyes to meet Maria's across the table, catching her completely off guard as his gaze was no longer scornful or withering, as she had been on the receiving end of far too many times, but rather desperate and pleading, as if he was asking her how to proceed. Through the initial shock that his eyes had fallen to hers in his moment of uncertainty, she nodded encouragingly twice in his direction. He gave her a soft smile before directing his attention back to his son.

"What is it, Kurt?" Maria had remembered when he had asked Marta a similar question during her first dinner at the villa. His tone had been one of annoyance, of disdain for the interruption of the peace of his meal. Now, he sounded gentle, genuine as he inquired after what his son was asking. That was all it took for Kurt to take a deep breath and meet his father's eyes again, the newfound courage in them unmistakable.

"Would you read to us tonight?" he asked quietly but firmly. The rest of the children turned their attentions towards their father, looking for his reaction. Maria couldn't help feeling curious herself, and rather shocked that the inquiry had come from Kurt. He was the most likely to groan about their literature assignments, and he never seemed keen over getting acquainted with the written word. But the plea in his voice was clear now – he wanted to hear his father read to him, to all of them, once again. From what she understood, the Captain reading to the children had been a nightly routine up until the day their mother died. She could imagine how, having just gotten him back, they wanted to hear his voice again, to know it was real, just as she did.

She found herself under the heavy gaze of the Captain as he looked to her for answers once more. The weight of it held her in place for a moment. This man, who had disregarded everything she had to say about his children only hours before, even going so far as to fire her, now looked to her for answers in regard to his children.

She allowed a gentle smile on her face, hoping he understood what she was trying to convey. He seemed to get the message, nodding imperceptibly in her direction as his gaze flittered around to each of his children.

"Of course," he replied, a smile forming on his lips. "That is, if your Fraulein doesn't mind me taking the honour."

His eyes fell on hers once again, but this time, she was on the receiving end of a gaze she had never seen in him before. His eyes were light and inquisitive and even teasing in nature. Though the features remained the same, he looked to be an entirely different man just then. It stunned her for a moment as she tried not to lose herself to the puzzle that was the man on the other end of the table.

"Of course not, Captain," was her simple reply. His lips quirked gratefully before looking around at his children once again, his eyes seemingly taking them in for the first time, as they had been all afternoon.

"You will still come up to say goodnight, won't you Fraulein Maria?" Marta, usually the quietest of the children spoke up. Maria looked down at the other end of the table to the sweet face of the girl who looked back at her with hope.

"If you wish," she replied, smiling at the young girl. She got an enthusiastic nod from the girl and a squeal of agreement from Gretl beside her. As she glanced towards the Captain once again, she found that his gaze was already on her, a soft smile on his lips. She returned the smile before looking away, feeling rather warm under his scrutiny.

She wasn't used to this kind of scrutiny from him – the kind of scrutiny that suggested he was looking at her, really looking at her. Before, his scrutiny was calculated. It was intended to make her feel small, intended to remind her who was in charge. Now, he simply looked at her with inquisitiveness, and something she dare not hope to be respect. It was strange and jarring and-

"Georg, I do hope you'll let me take a bottle of your finest vintage to say goodnight to me," a voice spoke, breaking Maria from her reverie. She looked to the Captain's left where Herr Detweiler sat, stuffing his face with heaping forkfuls of food – not unlike the way Kurt was doing two chairs away. On the Captain's right, Baroness Schraeder chuckled.

"Oh, Max, we've only been here a few hours and you're already raiding Georg's cellar," the Baroness replied. Herr Detweiler's shoulders lifted and fell uncaringly as he took a healthy sip of his wine.

"Yes, well, Georg has a rather large wine cellar. It's best to get started as early as possibly if I'm going to make my way through it in it's entirety," Her Detweiler replied, earning a giggle from the Baroness. Maria swore that she had caught the Captain roll his eyes.

"Children, you are excused," the Captain addressed his children. Just as quietly as they had the first night, they rose from their seats, making their way from the table and out the room in a single file line. While the children exchanged smiles with their father as they left the room, Maria could see the brief second of guilt that crossed the Captain's eyes as he watched them walk out.

Maria followed suit, not sure if she was ready to be stuck alone with the Captain and his guests. It wasn't that she didn't like the Baroness or Herr Detweiler. On the contrary, she found the former as elegant and charming as she had imagined, and the latter was animated in a way that filled a room with life. But Maria knew her place, and it certainly wasn't with them.

She made it halfway down the hallway before she heard him speak.

"Fraulein," he called after her in a gentle tone. She turned to see the Captain a few steps behind her. He stopped a couple feet away from her.

"Yes, Captain?" she replied. For all intents and purposes, he looked exactly like the harsh naval man she had met weeks ago, and yet, there was a tenderness about him now, a slight tremble of nervousness in his every move that wasn't there before.

"I was wondering, or rather, I was hoping that perhaps you might join us upstairs later," he said quietly, uncertainly. There was that gaze again, that soft inquisitive one that made her insides squirm. It was so foreign.

"Are you sure, sir? I know they'd be more than happy to get to spend some time alone with you," she replied. The corners of his lips quirked.

"I'm certain that you would be missed, given as I'm sure you're the one who has been reading to them in my absence," he spoke. He wasn't wrong, she had been reading to them in his absence, whether or not he thought that he would have approved, but she was also aware that for him to read to his children, all together, for the first time in years was a moment so very intimate and personal that she wasn't sure she should bear witness to it.

"I really don't want to intrude," she said gently. His gaze softened even more, a sad smile forming on his lips. In that moment, all pretenses of the hardened aristocrat were stripped away, and she caught a glimpse of the battered and broken man who had lost everything and who only desperately wanting to make things right without having any idea as to how. It became apparent then that he wasn't asking for her presence for the sake of the children.

"Please, I insist," and while it wasn't a command, it left little room for argument. She nodded slowly as she began to comprehend just what he was asking her. He needed support. He wanted someone to tell him if what he was doing was right or working, and her outspokenness, the brazen way in which she had judged his parenting had made her the someone he was looking to lean on. He knew from the tongue lashing she had given him that afternoon that she wasn't afraid to be brutally honest about what he was doing wrong when it came to the care of his children.

"Yes, Captain," she replied obediently. He smiled at her, which was still such a strange concept to Maria. The way his eyes brightened, and his cheeks indented left her entirely shaken.

"Fraulein," he addressed, bowing his head before turning on his heel to return to the dining room.

Maria stood in place for a moment, brows furrowing at the man she had just interacted with. Had he really changed so much in a few short hours? Could he have gone from being cold and calculated and distant to a man who was kind and considerate? She had been hoping for this, sure, but to see the change come about so quickly was entirely jarring to her.

She shook her head. She had to stop wondering if it was too good to be true or too quick of a turn around. This is what she had wanted for him, for the children, for the family. She was happy for them, all of them.

Turning, she made her way up the stairs to find where the children had gone off to. As predicted, Maria found them in one of the common areas, just past the children's rooms. It was where the children had spent most of their evenings before they were to go to bed. They all sat around, talking in hushed whispers that ceased the moment Maria stepped through the threshold. She eyed them warily before closing the door behind her, sitting on the settee next to Brigitta.

The children all looked at her expectantly, as if she had some big secret to reveal.

"Is there something on my face?" Maria asked teasingly, but none of them cracked a smile.

"No, Fraulein Maria," Liesl replied, becoming the voice of the children. "It's just that…"

The girl stopped short, looking to her brothers and sisters as she struggled to find the words. Maria took a moment to examine the nervousness in the children. She hadn't sensed it there during dinner, but she felt it full force now. Something was bothering them, and it didn't take much to guess.

"It's just what?" Maria inquired, hoping her tone provided encouragement. It must have, for Liesl looked to her once more.

"Do you think Father is back? Really back?" she asked cautiously, as if almost unsure she wanted to hear the answer. The rest of the children looked towards Maria as well, their gazes equally as cautious.

Maria sighed. She knew the quick turn around of change in their father had caught them off guard as well. While she knew they were overjoyed to see a glimpse of the man they loved so dearly, they felt just as Maria did that perhaps it was too good to be true. They were scared that they would all wake up the next morning and have it all been a dream, a cruel dream that ripped their father away from them once again.

"I can't claim to know your father very well, but I do know he loves you all dearly," she replied as diplomatically as she could muster. She knew her answer fell short when she watched the faces of the children fall ever so slightly.

"Maybe for tonight," Louisa grumbled bitterly. Maria looked to the girl, eyes full of fire and hurt that Maria hadn't seen in weeks.

"Louisa," Maria spoke warningly. The girl crossed her arms defensively as her siblings looked to her.

"For all we know, he's putting on a show for Uncle Max and Baroness Schraeder!" she exclaimed, and as angry as she tried to sound, it was the confusion in her tone that rang the loudest.

"We don't know that," Kurt spoke up. His half-hearted attempt at defending his father rang rather false by the way his head hung low in defeat. Maria placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, a touch to which he leaned into but didn't acknowledge otherwise.

"We don't know anything," Louisa replied, "and he doesn't know us."

"Maybe he just wants the chance to know us," Marta said, full of hope. Louisa scoffed, her features twisting as a deep frown settled over her face.

"Or maybe when Baroness Schraeder leaves, he'll leave with her again, and it will be back to whistles and marching," Louisa muttered, slumping down in the nearest chair. The faces of the children grew solemn as the gravity of Louisa's declaration rang loud and clear in the room. Maria could hear the soft sniffles from beside her as Brigitta tried to contain her conflicted feelings. Maria wrapped an arm around the girl while Liesl attended to the two youngest who had begun to whimper.

"I know you're all scared," Maria spoke quietly, "but doesn't you father deserve a chance to try and get to know you? Isn't that what you've all wanted all along?"

"Of course we want him to know us," it was Friedrich that spoke, "we just don't want to lose him again."

Maria's heart broke for all seven of them. Not only had they lost their mother, but they had lost their father too. Now here they were with the chance to get him back, and they were more terrified than anything that they would once again lose him, that he would wake up and decide that he didn't want to know them. They didn't want to face that kind of hurt again, and Maria couldn't blame them.

"How will you ever get him back if you don't give him the chance to try?" Maria asked gently as she held Brigitta closer and squeezed Kurt's shoulder softly. She watched as Louisa stoically looked out the window, her jaw set hard in a way that reminded her of the Captain. "I think his intentions to be there for all of you are genuine. I think he would really like the chance to get to know each and every one of you, if you'd allow him the opportunity."

Maria wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. The children had spent weeks telling her stories and convincing her that the Captain was not the cruel dictator he presented himself to be. They had convinced her to give the Captain a chance, and now, the roles were reversed.

A silence filled the room for several minutes.

"He looked like he meant what he said this afternoon," Liesl spoke feebly, cradling Gretl against her. The other children began to nod in agreement.

"He was like he was before…" Friedrich trailed off, not needing to fill the silence with anything else.

"I haven't seen him smile like that since…" Louisa added, her voice sounding far away.

"I don't want him to leave again," it was the fragile voice of Gretl that rang the clearest in the room.

"I don't think he will this time," Kurt spoke softly. His siblings seemed assured by this as the tension dropped in their shoulders bit by bit.

Maria watched as they all released their fear, choosing to trust instead. They had been through something unimaginable at such a young age, and the toll it had taken on them was harsh. They were still children at heart, yes, but the pain and hurt that they had experienced over the years had hardened them, had matured them far beyond their years. They feared far beyond what children should fear, and for that, her heart broke for them.

"Well, I know this has been an exciting day for everyone, but I do believe I am owed a rematch in cards," Maria spoke after several minutes, hoping to lighten the mood if only a little. Louisa, Friedrich, and Kurt looked in her direction with a smile. Friedrich grabbed a deck of cards and the three of them sat on the floor, waiting for Maria to join them. With a quick last squeeze of Brigitta's shoulder, and a comforted, beaming smile from the girl, Maria moved to join them.

The tension in the room dispelled, and much like many of the last several nights had been in the von Trapp household, an air of joy took over. The smiles returned with the laughter, and all fear that their father's change of heart was just a temporary ruse dissipated entirely. Liesl played dolls with the youngest girls, Brigitta read by the windowsill, and Maria got beat mercilessly at cards by Louisa.

"You're cheating!" Kurt exclaimed, losing his fifth hand in a row.

"Am not," Louisa replied, a triumphant smile on her face as Kurt tossed his cards on the floor in frustration.

"You can't possibly be that good at the game," Friedrich groaned, tossing his own cards on the floor.

"Sure, I can! Father taught me," she explained proudly.

"What did I teach you?" a new voice rose from the door. The heads of all the children snapped to look in the direction of the door where their father stood halfway in the room, almost looking sheepish at his intrusion. He looked at all the faces of his children, a smile forming on his face as his eye landed on the pile of cards on the floor. "Ah, still showing no mercy to your brothers, are we, Louisa?"

For the first time ever, Maria saw the girl's face darken in hue.

"No, Father," she replied proudly. He grinned, and Maria was sure that she would never get used to the sight of a smile on his face.

"That's my girl," he said gently. Maria only had a split second to register the surprise on Louisa's face before it was gone. The Captain looked away from Louisa, surveying the rest of his children who looked up at him in awe. "I'd like you all to get ready for bed now."

The children obeyed almost immediately, each tidying up wherever they had been before filing out the door past their father who watched them curiously. Maria began to follow, trailing behind Liesl towards the door.

"Liesl," the Captain spoke gently as his eldest daughter approached him. The girl stopped abruptly in front of her father. "Would you help Gretl and Marta? I'd like to speak with Fraulein Maria for a moment."

"Of course, Father," Liesl replied. The Captain gave her a gentle smile. Liesl began to walk past him, but he caught her hand in his.

"Thank you, Liesl," he said. The girl looked caught off guard for a second before flashing a beaming smile at her father. She walked past him, and the Captain watched her go.

Increasingly aware that she was alone with the Captain, Maria crossed her arms self consciously, her heartrate kicking up a notch. She wasn't entirely sure why she was nervous to be alone with him. Was it the guilt for how she had spoken to him? Was it the utter unfamiliarity of the man before her – the man with he warmth in his gaze and the tenderness in his voice? She shifted from foot to foot. While she hadn't been entirely sure of how to communicate with his cold and harsh persona before, she was far more perplexed on how to communicate with the regretful and apologetic man she found before her now.

As if hearing her screaming thoughts, the Captain looked back at her, his eyes taking in her anxious stance. He offered a light smile, the indents forming in his cheeks once again taking her completely off guard.

"Fraulein, I wanted to thank you – er – again," he started sheepishly, his eyes boring into her with remorse and gratitude and far too much emotion than she had ever seen from him. She looked away from the weight of his gaze, shaking her head.

"I'm afraid I'm not deserving of your thanks, Captain. I said far too much that I shouldn't-."

"Please," he held up a hand to silence her. "It was no less than I deserved."

She glanced back towards him, catching the sincerity in his eyes. He offered her another small smile before it fell completely, his features growing solemn as his eyes were drawn back to the door that his children had just walked out of.

"I have no idea how you did it," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

"I'm not sure what you're referring to," she replied, her brows furrowing at his cryptic statement.

"I watched them chase out twelve governesses before you, all of which presented themselves to be tough disciplinaries, but you seem to have them entirely wrapped around your finger," he mused quietly. "How did you manage it?"

"A little compassion goes a long way," she replied with a weak shrug. He looked back at her, his eyes falling upon her inquisitively. His scrutiny once again brought an itching sense under Maria's skin that she desperately tried to ignore.

"Would you show me?" he asked quietly, his brows knitting together. He looked almost pained, uncomfortable, and she knew it was because he wasn't used to asking for help. He wasn't used to needing help, and she was sure that it came with a great blow to his dignity to be asking for it now. The weight of his question, the weight of the urgency in his gaze nearly knocked Maria off her feet.

"Show you…"

"I'm afraid I'm a little out of touch with my own children. It's silly, I know, but I feel rather at a loss of how to talk with them, to be with them," he told her. His gaze fell from her own to the floor beneath his feet, the shame stricken look on his face breaking her heart all over again. He had lost so much, including his own children due to his grief, and he simply wanted to make things right, though he was at a loss as to how. She once again felt the guilt coil around her as she realized she hadn't been nearly as empathetic to his situation as she could have been. She hesitated for a moment before speaking again.

"All they want is to know is that you're really ready to get to know them again. Once they realize that you are here to stay, the rest will follow. They adore you, and they are just as keen to get to know you as you are to get to know them," she spoke softly, encouragingly. He met her eyes again, and she was filled with a strange sense of relief to see that his features had lightened at her words.

"I was wrong about you, Fraulein. I do hope you can forgive me for the deplorable way I've treated you," he said sincerely. She shook her head.

"There's nothing to forgive, Captain," she replied with a smile. He gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement.

"Perhaps we can meet tomorrow evening to discuss a change in routine for the children. I'm not sure that I'm ready to add climbing trees to the schedule," he said with a smirk, "but believe it or not, I am willing to be flexible on some matters."

She tried to hide her surprise at the suggestion to change their routine. He had seemed so set on it in the beginning, so firm on the way his children spent their time. She found herself once again questioning the change she had seen within him. Was it possible for him to let the walls he had built around himself crumble so entirely within the course of a day?

"Of course, Captain," she replied simply, shaking the questions from her head. He smiled briefly before the thudding of feet along the hallway, approaching the door. A pajama-clad Gretl emerged from the hallway, her bright eyes beaming up at her father.

"Father, will you read to us now?" Gretl asked. Georg beamed back down at his youngest daughter, and Maria knew then that her doubts were unfounded. The way he looked at Gretl then, the adoration in his eyes told her that he was desperate to make things right. She was comforted then that the change in him was there to stay.

"Yes, Darling, are your brothers and sisters ready?" he asked. Gretl nodded enthusiastically, holding her hand up for her father to take. He took it eagerly, shooting a smile over his shoulder at Maria before being pulled into the hallway. Maria smiled to herself before following along.

All the children were piled into the nursery. Marta sat in her bed while her siblings were sprawled in chairs or on the floor, their eyes brightening immediately as their father entered the room. Gretl dragged the Captain over to her bed, urging him to take a seat. He obeyed, a smile on his face, as Gretl nestled into his side.

"What are we reading tonight?" the Captain asked. Marta hopped off of her bed, placing a book in her father's hands. The Captain smiled, brushing the girl's cheek affectionately with a finger. She smiled brightly before returning to her bed, which Maria had taken a seat on the edge of. "Ah, Rapunzel, I should have guessed."

He seemed to look at the book curiously for a moment, his gaze distant, pained even.

"It was mother's favourite," Marta whispered to her. Maria nodded as she watched the Captain struggle with the emotion he was so desperately trying to fight off. After a moment and a shuddering breath, he seemed to have succeeded, his composure returning to him as he flipped the book open.

It was truly a sight to behold, Maria would later reflect. Watching the Captain read to his children had been everything they described. He took on an animated appearance, using different voices and gestures as he read through the text, causing the children to giggle. There was not a trace of the cold, aristocratic mask that he had donned so effortlessly before. Now, before her and the children, sat just a man who wanted to reunite his family, who wanted to put a smile on his children's faces.

As the Captain neared the end of the story, most of the older children were yawning while the two youngest had fallen asleep – Gretl slumped against her father's side and Marta with her head on Maria's lap. It was a precious scene to behold indeed.

"All right," the Captain whispered as he closed the book, looking to his dozing youngest lying against him with a ghost of a smile on his face. "Off to bed with all of you."

Maria moved Marta carefully, setting her back against the pillows before rising. The Captain had bent down to press a kiss against Gretl's forehead. He then moved to Marta's bed, pressing a kiss to her forehead as well.

As the children filed out, they said goodnight to Maria, before being met by their father at the door. He patted Friedrich and Kurt on the shoulder and pressed gentle kisses to his daughters' heads. Even Louisa, who was the least affectionate of the children, allowed the Captain to press a kiss to her head. Maria followed after the children, leaving the Captain to turn out the lights and close the door.

The children filed into their own rooms with a last smile back at their governess and father.

"Thank you, Fraulein," the Captain said quietly from behind her. "I know I've said it already, but I can't thank you enough for what you've done here today."

"I'm happy to help, sir," she replied, giving him a bright smile. He returned it, eyes shining in a way she'd never seen them before. His lips parted as if he were going to speak before he thought better of it. He offered her a tight-lipped smile instead – one that, for the first time that evening, didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Goodnight, Fraulein," he told her with a bow of his head.

"Goodnight, Captain," she replied. With that, they went their separate ways, and Maria was left to marvel over the enigma that was Captain von Trapp.


It had been a good day.

Sure, it had started out a little rocky, Georg reflected as he remembered his argument with Fraulein Maria. He remembered the rage he had felt, the frustration. He had believed it was entirely directed towards her, but he was wrong. It had all been for himself.

Every word she had spoken had been right. He didn't know his children, he wasn't there for them, he had treated them appallingly. He had believed it was easier that way, easier for everyone – the children included. This whole time, he thought he had been doing what was best for them, but he had been wrong. He had only hurt them in the process of his own grief.

They had missed him. It was clear in the way they had fought for his attention all afternoon, the way they flocked to him eagerly. It pained him to know that he had been so absent, that he had made his children lose their father. It felt as if he had been in a fog of sorts, and he was just now seeing clearly. He was realizing the monster he had been to them.

The guilt threatened to swallow him whole at points through the day. The knowledge that he had so horribly disregarded the people he loved most in this world made him sick. What would Agathe think if she knew how he had treated their children? That he had made them lose a father as well as a mother?

At the end of the day, he was exhausted. The change within him had happened so rapidly, so unexpectedly, and it had taken a toll on him. He had confronted emotions and memories that he had spent years trying to repress, and it had drained him completely. He felt entirely and utterly spent. So, as he slid under his covers that evening, he prepared himself for a deep and satisfying sleep.

His was horribly mistaken.

A flash of white.

A kneeling figure on the terrace, just beyond the French doors.

The slow movements, the desperation that set his whole chest on fire.

The feel of lace against his fingers.

Those striking blue eyes looking up at him, so full of innocence.

Maria.

The familiar jolt of panic coursed through his entire body as he bolted upright. He made his way to the bathroom once again, splashing the icy water against his skin as if it would make the images disappear from his mind.

Initially, after the argument on the landing, and he had connected with the children, he had briefly thought he had solved the haunting dreams. In a sense, he had believed that she was like an angel who had been sent down to reunite his family. She was doing God's work, allowing him to see the error in his ways. He had believed that it had been a warning of sorts, a premonition of what was to come.

But then why was he still having the bloody dream?

He looked at himself in the mirror as he gripped the marble counter, his knuckles becoming white.

"Pull yourself together," he muttered to himself through gritted teeth. Was this God's way of punishing him for his deplorable actions in the past? Was this his penance for neglecting his children? Was filling his subconscious full of images of their governess some fort of just karma for the way he had behaved?

He shook his head at the questions that flew through his mind. He didn't need answers – he needed to get past it, whatever it was. But he couldn't fathom why his mind had chosen her to star in his dreams. He didn't know her very well, she was an employee, and it wasn't as if he were attracted to her in any sense.

Liar, a voice in his head screamed. Georg clamped his eyes shut at the voice, refusing to listen to it.

She was an attractive young woman; he was strong enough to admit that. While he might have had his head too far up his arse before to recognize it, he could allow himself now to recognize that she was rather pretty. But that was it. He could recognize her to be attractive and have that be the end of the story.

She had helped him begin to put his family back together, and he would be forever grateful for that, but beyond that… She was a woman devoting herself to God, and he was… absolutely not attracted to her. Not like that.

He slunk back to his bed, knowing full well he wouldn't get a wink of sleep for the rest of the night. Instead, he conjured up a list of all the reasons he wasn't – couldn't possibly be – attracted to the little governess who slept down the hall.


A/N: Sorry for the delay on this chapter! Life got in the way, as it always does, and I wanted to have time to really do this chapter justice. I hope you like it!

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