When Masks Fall Off Chapter 3.30: And Then It Hit the Fan
It was Francis. Not the Francis-clone, but Francis. The real Francis. The one who had been named Francis at birth. The one who had actually had the decency to introduce himself as Francis when they had first met. The one whom she and...the other Francis agreed was the one that any right-minded girl would choose. The one who Nadja, being a right-minded girl, was in love with.
And yet she caught herself wishing, though just for a split second, that it had been Keith. Whether it had happened willingly or not, she had no secrets from Keith. With Francis...she felt as though she had promised herself to him and then promptly run off with the first man to cross her path.
But it wasn't her fault, Nadja reminded herself firmly. "Sorry, some urgent business just came up. Go on without me!" And she leapt off the car and ignored the questions that her makeshift family that was Troupe Dandelion shouted at her back.
Yet in the end, the dramatic moment of truth wasn't all that dramatic—primarily because Nadja couldn't bring herself to initiate the conversation that would inevitably lead to the moment of truth, and so she ended up following Francis in the shadows like some sort of stalker. It was only when a carriage nearly ran her over and the passenger in the carriage turned out to be someone that Francis was apparently expecting that Nadja finally stepped forward. As Francis smiled at "Maryann" and helped her out of the carriage, Nadja stepped out of the shadows with a slightly annoyed smile and a cheerful, "Francis!"
"Nadja," smiled Francis, and he seemed so sincere. No guilt! Honestly, who did he think he was? He kisses her, and then just goes and guilelessly walks off to date some other girl? No, whispered her subconscious, That's you, remember? Nadja forced the thought from her mind, keeping a smile on her face, slightly forced though it may have been.
"Why, Francis," asked the young lady beside him, looping an arm through his in a way that would have seemed like casual familiarity if she hadn't been looking piercingly and winningly into Nadja's eyes. "Who is this charming young lady?"
"This is Nadja, the girl I was telling you about," said Francis, smiling at the lady beside him with familiarity. Nadja was really starting to feel like third wheel, and she didn't like it at all—didn't Francis notice any of the insults that Maryann was throwing her way? "Nadja, this is my childhood friend, Maryann."
"Ah, a friend?" smiled Nadja at Maryann. "So nice to meet you." Maryann didn't miss the insult. Her eyes narrowed as Francis offered his other arm to Nadja, offering to take her to lunch with the two of them.
"Oh, but you said that she's quite spirited," interjected Maryann. "Perhaps the restaurant would be too restrictive for her? Perhaps we should go on a picnic instead. We just need to order the food at the restaurant and pay for a basket to carry it in."
"That sounds wonderful, Maryann," exclaimed Francis. "You'd prefer that, Nadja, wouldn't you?" Something hot and ugly was rising in Nadja. What was this? Was the man completely missing the fact that Maryann was implying that the restaurant was too good for Nadja?
But the fact of the matter was that Nadja did prefer picnics, and to object now that Maryann and Francis both were at least pretending to be enthusiastic would be absurd. So she smiled and said, "Of course, Francis." But when his focus was back on the road, she didn't resist a glare at Maryann. To Nadja's surprise, Maryann wasn't paying any attention—instead, her focus seemed to be on Nadja's skirt.
Nadja's brain nearly burned out as it rushed to figure out what in the world Maryann was finding inadequate about her this time. Was her skirt too short? Her knees to knobby? Her legs too skinny? She looked down—
—and saw the little cylindrical bulge in her apron pocket, and knew she was done for.
On her previous encounter with K- The Black Rose, he had returned on the pretense of leaving her a tomato. In actuality, it had turned out that he had had an ulterior motive—one that Nadja had been too occupied to notice until she had been undressing for bed that evening, and noticed something in her apron pocket. Pulling out the offending object, Nadja had realized instantaneously that it was Keith's, and would have thrown it out the window—she really would have—if it hadn't been for the note on the paper wrapped around the beautiful gem-encrusted kaleidoscope:
This kaleidoscope belonged to my and Francis's mother. She wanted to travel the world, you know. I haven't let go of this since her death. Now I want you to have it—take her with you; show her the world that she never got to see. Thank you, Nadja.
Irritatingly, the fact that it belonged to his and Francis's mother rendered her incapable of doing the object harm. It also rendered her incapable of letting it off of her person, for fear that it might get lost, or stolen, or any number of horrible, terrible things.
...haven't let go of this since her death, Keith had said. No doubt if Maryann was Francis's childhood friend, then she knew Keith as well. So if Maryann had known Keith in those days, there was no doubt that she, not to mention Francis, knew precisely what the kaleidoscope was and who was supposed to be in current possession of it.
"Nadja," Maryann began, a certain glint in her eyes. Nadja felt her pulse begin to race. She couldn't let this happen—not now, in front of Francis, out of Maryann's mouth. She needed to be the one to explain to Francis what was going on. If Francis heard it out of the mouth of another, the betrayal would be complete, mistaken identities or not. "What is-"
"Why don't you ladies stay here?" Francis interrupted, and Nadja thought she was having a heart attack of relief. "I'm going to go get the food, and it'll probably take me ten to twenty minutes. So why don't you ladies get to know each other in the meantime? I'm sure I'm just an obstruction."
Okay, maybe her relief had been kind of quick in coming. He was going to leave her with this evil, perceptive woman whom, to all appearances, was after Nadja's life?
"Of course, Francis," Nadja forced out at the same moment as Maryann said, demurely as ever, "I think that would be lovely." Francis grinned at the two of them with an, "I'll be back soon," and jogged off to the kitchen. Maryann and Nadja watched him leave until the kitchen door had closed behind him.
"So, Nadja," smiled Maryann, sitting down on the bench beside them and folding her parasol. "Why are you playing with Francis when you clearly have Keith wrapped around your little finger?"
Nadja glared hotly. She couldn't remember being this angry since...well, since the last time she'd seen Keith. "I am not playing with Francis, and I do not have Keith wrapped around any part of me! That...that impersonating beast is going to stay far, far away from me if he knows what's best for him!"
"Ah. So he weaseled his way into your heart through your feelings for Francis, did he?"
Nadja blinked. "What?" "He let you think he was Francis until you felt for him the same way you felt for Francis."
"No! The moment he realized there was a case of mistaken identity, he made his point in correcting me, thank you very much! What do you take him for? He's not evil!" Oh dear, said Nadja's conscience. There goes your main argument against the thief.
"Isn't he?" asked Maryann, demure as ever. "My apologies. Of course, you must have come to quite an understanding if he left you with a token like that one." Nadja's hand closed protectively over her apron pocket. "You know, when we were little children, I used to beg Keith to let me just see it, but he'd never even let me touch it."
"Wha- No! He just kind of...slipped it into my pocket! We were arguing! He pretended to give me a tomato as some sort of peace offering, and slipped the...the kaleidoscope into my pocket!"
"My, my. Quite the peace offering, isn't it? A priceless kaleidoscope, the only thing he had left of his mother, and he gives it to a simple country girl as a peace offering for a common argument."
"Are you implying that I'm lying?"
"Of course not. Just that your story does take quite a turn into the realms of fairy tales. As far as I understand, either he loves you quite deeply, or you took it from him."
Nadja almost laughed, but she was too busy being angry. "I did not take it from him! I mean, how could I steal from a-" She stopped at the last moment. No matter how much she disliked Keith, revealing the truth could get him caught and killed, and much as she hated him, she definitely would never wish death on anyone. "How could I steal from a horrible person like him?" Nadja corrected herself lamely. "I- I mean, why would I want anything of his?"
"I would think that even a common girl like yourself could see the monetary value in such a gorgeous object."
"The monetary- What are you implying?"
"That you could potentially be either playing both men, or you could be a gold-digger, after Francis's money but not above stealing from Keith when the opportunity presents itself. Or, of course, you could be both, or neither. I don't know you, you see, and so I have very little to work with." Maryann was just sitting there, all poised and proper, a demure smile on her face. Nadja's temper was now a full boil, and she was practically shouting. "I am neither of those things! How dare you suggest-"
"Nadja! Maryann, what's going on?" Francis had returned. And he turns to Maryann? To say that Nadja was feeling quite bitter would have been an understatement.
"You see,"-but anything was better than Maryann telling Francis her twisted theories, wasn't it?-"we were talking about this and that"-and besides, hadn't this all started because Nadja wanted to be the one to tell Francis what was going on?-"when I noticed-"
"She realized that I had something I shouldn't have, and pointed out that it was very, very wrong that I should be in possession of it." Nadja felt like a leaf in the wind, and Francis looked baffled.
"Nadja, what-" A rock came flying out of nowhere, and struck Francis in the temple.
"Francis!" both Nadja and Maryann cried out in horror, rushing to his side.
"I'm fine," Francis mumbled waving them off. "What-"
"Francis Harcourt!" shouted a young boy's voice. They looked around to see two little boys standing up on a wall, glaring down at them—or rather, at Francis.
"Who are-"
"Mour, from Pegasus Orphanage!" snapped the little boy standing in the front; the one who had thrown the stone. "Don't tell me you've forgotten!"
"Go home!" snapped the smaller boy behind the first. "Get off this island!"
"Your donation messed up our orphanage!" snapped the first boy.
"Messed up?" Nadja was going to ask, but Maryann beat her to it with a, "Would you care to explain?"
"Before your donation, we may have been poor, but we were happy! But then your donation came along, and changed the headmaster of our orphanage! He made off alone with the money, the orphanage was closed up, and now we're the only ones left on the island, and we have nothing left! All because of your little whim!"
"I'm very sorry to hear that..." said Francis quietly. "But that honestly wasn't my intention-"
"Screw your intentions!" snapped the boy. "It's all your fault!"
"Stop it!" Nadja intervened. "Francis didn't do anything wrong!"
"Oh really?" countered the little boy. "Nobles like these two just give away money to make themselves feel better, and they throw words like 'charity' around to make it seem valid. But you never want to sweat your own sweat to do anything, do you?"
"You're wrong!" Nadja insisted, but the little boy just grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her across a hill, Francis and Maryann following, to a building of white stone—or what must have once been a building of white stone. Now it was crumbling to pieces—the fence that had enclosed it was practically gone, and the ceiling had fallen in...it was definitely not inhabitable.
"Look at this! Because of him, this is what's happened to our orphanage! We have no home to return to. Our friends from the orphanage'll never be living with us again, because of what's happened here."
There was a long silence as Nadja, Francis, and Maryann stared at the ruins before them. Nadja racked her brain for something to say to Francis—something to make this seem even marginally better. Maryann, however, stood silently. She knew, of course, of what had happened to Pegasus Orphanage—that was why Francis had come back to Mykonos Island, and why she had come with him. She had had a feeling that something like this might happen.
Francis could do nothing but stare blankly at the ruins before him. It was one thing to hear about it—it was another thing to see it with his own eyes, and know that he was the cause. "That's...that's why I came back," Francis said quietly. "If there's anything I can do-"
"Do?" snapped the little boy, and the smaller one glared beside him. "Can you use that money of yours to bring back the kind headmaster we used to have?" Francis didn't—couldn't—reply. "Just leave this island." And they ran off.
"Francis..." said Nadja quietly. She took a step forward to go and comfort him—only to be stopped by Maryann. Nadja looked up at the lady, her eyes asking all the questions running through her mind. But Maryann's eyes were hard.
"Can you come with me a moment?" asked Maryann.
"You're not going to be fighting again, are you?" asked Francis tiredly.
"Francis," Nadja started apologetically, but Maryann interrupted.
"No, Francis. Not now."
"Good." Francis's back was to them, but his shoulders were hunched as he stood with one hand on what remained of the enclosing wall of the orphanage.
Maryann made a gesture to Nadja to follow, and turned her back on Francis and the orphanage. Nadja looked back at Francis's hunched back. He always seemed so straightforward, so strong...and now he was finding out that one of the beliefs that he'd held on to with every fiber of his being was hardly foolproof, and could even hurt people more than it helped. How she wanted to comfort him... But how could she comfort him in such a situation? What could she say? Maybe Maryann had an idea...? Hoping that this was the case, Nadja turned and ran after Maryann.
"Nadja—do you care about Francis?" asked Maryann when they were far enough to be out of earshot of Francis.
"Of course!" Nadja glared. Was she going to pick up where she'd left off earlier?
"I'm sorry about the things I said earlier," Maryann apologized, much to Nadja's surprise. "I really do care about Francis. In fact, I've looked at no one but Francis ever since I was a little girl, and have no intention of letting you have him now." Nadja opened her mouth to respond to that angrily, but was cut off again. "But now isn't the time to argue about that. We both care about Francis, don't we?"
"Well...yes," Nadja replied slowly.
"Then we'll work together. I couldn't have done this alone, and I would have just stood by and watched Francis suffer, doing what I could—which wouldn't have been much, I assure you. But maybe if we work together, we can fix this."
"What, you mean, fix the orphanage?"
"If I know Francis, by tomorrow he'll have gotten it into his head that he's got to do all he can do, and he'll resort to desperate measures."
"Desperate-"
"I really don't know, but if I know him, he'll probably do something along the lines of trying to make a home for those two boys—or even trying to rebuild the orphanage with his bare hands."
"But that's-"
"Ridiculous? Of course it is, but Francis just might manage it. He can be quite stubborn when he wants to be, you know." Maryann smiled fondly then, and Nadja felt her inner assurance that she was in love with Francis and no one could ever love Francis more than she did begin to waver. Maryann would stand by while Francis suffered, doing what she could to support him—Nadja didn't think she could stand that.
"Listen," Maryann went on. "I'm going to the mayor of the island to give me a list of the children that used to live at the Pegasus Orphanage, and then I'm going to set out finding the children. I want you to find the man who used to be the headmaster of the orphanage, and convince him to take the children back."
Nadja stared. "Wait—why me? And why did you say you couldn't do anything without-"
"Because I know myself," said Maryann, shaking her head. "I appeal to people's minds—to their reason—and that isn't going to bring back a man whose head got turned by money. But you're like Francis—you appeal to people's hearts, to their emotions. I think you might have a chance at turning the headmaster back." The smile Maryann gave Nadja was completely guileless, and Nadja couldn't help smiling back.
"Of course I'll help," Nadja said. "So...what do I look for?"
"His name's Hektor Diakos. Lives somewhere on this island, presumably in one of those huge mansions."
Nadja frowned. "What? What do you mean, 'somewhere on this island'? That isn't exactly very precise."
Maryann glared. "Don't forget that while you're running around Mykono Island looking for one individual, I'll be running around Greece in search of twenty-three individuals. Oh, and since unless Francis is secretly some sort of monster, I sincerely doubt that he's going to manage to rebuild the orphanage single-handedly with his bare hands, so it would be great if you could convince Mr. Diakos to turn his should-be-mansion into the new orphanage."
"But-" That seemed impossible.
"Don't worry, if you can't do that, I can always hire someone to rebuild the orphanage." Nadja nearly took that as a personal insult, until she noticed the sad, wistful way that Maryann was looking down the hill they were standing on at Francis. Francis was still standing where they had left him, looking like all the life and happiness had been sucked out of him. "I just was sort of hoping that we could do this with the use of as little money as possible—restore Francis's faith in humanity, you know."
To say that Nadja was thrown would have been an understatement. Maryann really loved Francis—Nadja could hardly doubt that now. It was her own love for Francis that she was doubting now. Was it really strong enough to even compete with Maryann's? "Sure," Nadja replied quietly. "We'll work together."
"And then we'll be rivals again," Maryann smiled. "But until then, we're putting that aside."
"I know," Nadja stated indignantly. Maryann chuckled.
"You're easy to annoy, aren't you? I'll bet Keith never misses the chance to annoy the life out of you, does he?"
Nadja glared. "I thought we're putting that aside."
"Sorry, it was just an innocent question. He's never missed the opportunity to rile up a girl he liked, you know."
"He doesn't like- Wait, you mean he's liked lots of girls?"
Maryann gave a secretive smile that was almost a smirk and turned to walk off. "My, my, aren't we jealous!"
"Wha- I'm not jealous!" Nadja snapped at Maryann's back, and all she received was the knowledge that Maryann was smiling in a very self-satisfied way as she walked off.
Nadja took a moment to glare at Maryann, then turned to look sadly at Francis one last time before she turned and ran off.
Nadja spent the remainder of that afternoon asking after a "Hektor Diakos" throughout the island, but by the time that someone pointed her to a manor "directly on the other side of the island from here, actually," she was practically all the way back to Troupe Dandelion, and the sun had set. Opting to go to bed for the day, she turned away and returned to the car, but was too exhausted to answer her curious family's questions before falling into bed with exhaustion. She was up and gone early the next morning before they could question her—she had to be gone and back before the performance, after all.
She practically ran to the other side of the island, or as close to running as she could without rendering her legs useless; it still took her nearly 3 hours. It wasn't difficult to find the Diakos mansion, as it happened, though she was warned that the master of the house wasn't the most friendly person in the world.
When, true to the predictions of the people in the area, the man failed to answer his doorbell, a huffy Nadja made up her mind: if she couldn't enter from the doorway like the honest person that she was, she'd get in through a window, and curse that Diakos figure if he tried to resist, because she was not about to let him!
"Nadja," Francis acknowledged sullenly as she walked up to him. Nadja looked around in sympathy. It was raining—the Troupe's performance for the day had been canceled, and she was sheltering Mr. Diakos beside her with her umbrella that she was supposed to use for her dance. True to Maryann's words, Francis seemed to have taken it upon himself to single-handedly rebuild the orphanage. The outer wall was already quite a bit taller than it had been, in fact, but Nadja sincerely doubted that even Francis could rebuild the fallen ceiling.
"Francis, this is Mr. Diakos. He's agreed to take the orphans into his manor."
"Mr..." Francis stared up at the man standing beside Nadja. "But you're-"
"I know." The man's tearing eyes now overflowed, and he fell to his knees before the muddy noble. "I'm so sorry. It was wrong of me, I know that. This young lady saw to it that I understood that, of course, but she only really drove home what I already knew. And then what with the arrival of th-"
"He regrets everything he's done, don't you, Mr. Diakos?" Nadja smiled, pretending she hadn't just interrupted him. Things were going well—she was not going to let Mr. Diakos ruin this for her. She turned to Francis. "Maryann's going around to collect the other children who used to live at Pegasus Orphanage—well, the ones who haven't found a decent home yet, at least."
"Nadja..." Francis's eyes filled with tears and he pulled her into his arms. "Nadja, thank you. You have no idea what this means to me. I-"
"It was Maryann's idea, you know," Nadja interjected awkwardly. The way Francis was holding her and looking at her, she got the distinct feeling that he was about to kiss her—how she wished she could welcome it.
But she knew that Maryann loved Francis more than she did, and she knew that as long as her betrayal of Francis remained hidden, she had no right to encourage his affection...and how she regretted that things couldn't have been different.
"We've got to find Mour and that other little boy," Nadja smiled, pulling away just as she saw Francis's head beginning to duck so that his lips could meet hers. She felt a twang through her chest. "And then I've got to talk to you about that thing I mentioned yesterday."
Francis's smile did not even falter. "And then we've just got to wait for Maryann." Despite her worries, Francis's glee was contagious, and Nadja couldn't help grinning back. Then Francis's face turned serious. "I mean it, Nadja—thank you." Then he looked up at Mr. Diakos, his delighted grin back in place. "Shall we look for your boys then, sir?"
Mr. Diakos and Francis exchanged smiles—both of them were at fault, they knew. Francis for failing to understand what money could do to a person, and Mr. Diakos for falling to the lure of material worth. Nadja watched them walk off through the rain with a smile on her face, and picked up her umbrella from where it had fallen when Francis had tugged her into his arms.
Then her smile faded. There were still two things left to do, and neither boded well for the future of her and Francis's relationship. She was running off after the pair, when a movement caught her attention in the corner of her eye. "Mour!" she called. There was no response. "Come on, Mour, I know you're there."
The boy slowly stepped out of the shadows of the ruins. "I was wrong," he said quietly, his eyes tragically empty with sorrow. "I thought- but he- I mean, he tried to fix our orphanage with his bare hands! All by himself! And he was actually making progress. I never thought- never imagined that anyone-"
"And we found your headmaster," Nadja smiled down at the boy. The smaller boy peeked out from behind the wall, his expression echoing the older boy's shock. "He feels horrible about what he did to you boys, and he's taking you all back. His mansion's going to be your new home."
"But-"
"I know it might take some time for you to forgive him. He knows that too." Nadja smiled down at the two boys kindly. "But he's hoping that you'll forgive him. It took me a while to convince him that you might forgive him, you know. He was sure you wouldn't. So please give him a chance?"
The little boy sniffed. The smaller boy sniffled. "Fine," said the little boy at last. Nadja graced him with one of her biggest smiles.
"Then let's go!" And she took the two boys by the hand and they ran after the pair.
"Francis!" Nadja called after the figures far ahead of them, while the smaller boy called, "Headmaster!" The elder boy said nothing, and simply ran.
It was Mr. Diakos who first heard them. He turned around, and his old crinkled eyes widened dramatically. "Boys?" Nadja heard him murmur through the rain as they came to a halt before him. She pushed the boys forward. The boys and their headmaster just stood there staring at each other. Francis smiled, and came to put an arm around Nadja. Well, Nadja figured, I suppose I can allow myself this much for now.
Mr. Diakos knelt before the boys. Not a fall, like he had fallen to his knees before Francis, but slowly, never taking his pleading eyes off of the boys. "I'm sorry, boys," he whispered. "So sorry. And I know that 'sorry' doesn't fix it, and what I've done is horrible, but I hope—I hope you can find it in your hearts to let me give you back the home that I should have kept for you all along."
The younger boy looked between the elder boy and their former headmaster. "Can you promise that whatever happens, you won't take our home away from us this time?"
"I promise," choked out the aged man. "I promise you won't lose your home this time. I'll never take it away from you, and I'll write up a will that leaves everything to you boys. I'll even find another person to train as your headmaster, to take over once I'm gone. I'm so very sorry..."
"Well," whispered the elder of the two boys, and he sounded choked, "I suppose that's a start." The younger boy began to sob and threw himself at their headmaster, who embraced him back just as fiercely. A single tear leaked out of the elder boy's eye, and Nadja and Francis exchanged a smile as they turned and left the newly reformed family to themselves.
"Again, Nadja, thank you so much." And Nadja was tugged unceremoniously back into the real world where things definitely weren't perfect. She stepped back from the circle of his arm to face him.
"Francis...I need to tell you something."
"Yes, you said that you and Maryann were arguing over something you weren't supposed to have. I'm sorry I got a little snippish about that. You two seem to have worked it out—you can handle yourselves, after all, I really shouldn't have-"
"No," Nadja interrupted. "Francis, this wasn't something that had nothing to do with you. It has lots to do with you, actually." Francis blinked. Nadja took a deep breath and pulled from her pocket the kaleidoscope. "Do you recognize this?"
Francis's eyes widened, and snapped from the kaleidoscope to Nadja's face. "How did you- Where did you find that?"
"In my pocket," Nadja replied in perfect seriousness.
"Wha- You can't mean that you have no idea how it got there?"
Nadja gave him a half-smile. "I'm reasonably certain that your brother snuck it into my pocket while he was giving me a tomato."
"Wait—are you telling me that you know Keith?" Francis was expressionless now, and Nadja was beginning to feel a little frightened.
"No—well, yes, I suppose. But through no free will of my own." Francis grabbed Nadja by the shoulders and shook her with vigor.
"That's not- Where is he? Where is my elder brother?!"
"Ow..." winced Nadja. Francis looked down at her as through only just realizing what he was doing. He let go of her with a stammered apology.
"S- sorry. I just—can you tell me where he is now?"
"No," Nadja replied honestly, thanking whatever deities were listening for Francis's wording of the question.
Francis sighed. "I thought so. He's been missing since we graduated from school—I wouldn't expect him to allow himself to be found now, and since he knows you know me... Wait, he knows you know me, right?"
"Very well. Probably the only reason we avoided a more serious mistaking of identities. Though the fact that his kiss wasn't anything like yours was really what-"
"Kiss?" snapped Francis, and Nadja's eyes widened as she could only think, Oops. "You kissed my brother?"
"Erm," said Nadja weakly, "It was really the other way around, and he claims it was your fault."
"My fault? How can it be my fault?"
Nadja tried to be careful to make it sound like it had only happened once without deliberately lying. After all, if Francis was upset enough as it was. "I mentioned you, you see, and he saw the need to make me stop talking. Because I was comparing him to you, and pointing out that he came out not half as decent, though in my defense, I had no clue you were brothers at the time."
Francis sighed. "Just answer me this, Nadja—how many times have you seen him, and what's happened between you two?"
"Five," Nadja winced. Francis stared at her. "But I really had no idea! The first time I saw him I saw his face, but I fainted then and didn't know anything about him so when I met him again and couldn't see his face, I didn't think anything of it and when he started picking arguments I argued back, and then I met you, and I thought you were him because you looked so alike, then I met him again without seeing his face, and I knew it was the same person as the one I'd met the second time but not the first time so we argued some more, then I met you again, then the fourth time I met him I knew it was the same person as the second and third times, but then I managed to see his face and realized that he was you but not you, and then we sorted out what times it had been you and what times it had been him, then I fainted again—I think I was overwhelmed—and the next time we met we argued some more and when he was leaving he gave me a tomato as a peace offering, which is when I assume he snuck that kaleidoscope into my pocket. And that pretty much covers my relationship with your brother."
Francis shook his head, sighing again. "I assume this means you'll need some time to think about this—which one you really like, and all that."
"I'm sorry," said Nadja quietly.
"It's not your fault," Francis replied with a tight smile.
"I have to go now," Nadja said, backing away slowly. It was more out of the desire to leave this awkwardness as far behind as possible than anything else. "I'm really so sorry..."
"It's all right," Francis nodded, and Nadja couldn't stand to look at his expression, so she turned and took off across the island.
"What are you doing here?" demanded the Black Rose, crossing his arms and tapping his foot.
"Waiting for you."
"Why, darling, I didn't know you cared."
"I'm not- You're not- That's not what I meant!" Nadja shouted, waving her arms and stomping.
"Now now, you don't want to wake the whole household."
"No one lives in here but a kind old man and twenty-five orphaned boys, and I'm not going to let you ruin their lives."
The Black Rose looked down at her. "Last I checked, there was only an old man who lived here, and he was a former headmaster of Pegasus Orphanage who took off with all the money they received in a donation from the House of Harcourt, leaving the twenty-five children to be shipped off to random orphanages around Greece if they had relatives or friends who could afford that; the two who didn't wound up staying here, homeless and grieving."
"Yes, well Francis, Maryann and I changed that, and I'm not letting you undo everything we've worked so hard to do." Nadja crossed her arms defiantly.
"Why don't you humor me and tell me how this came about," asked the Black Rose, "while we walk back to Troupe Dandelion? Or would you rather faint of exhaustion and have me carry you back to Anna again?"
Nadja glared. "I can handle myself."
"But we still don't want to wake up the household, do we? Let's go."
Nadja sighed and complied on both counts, and they walked slowly down the island as he removed his disguise and she told him of the revelation of the tragedy caused by Francis's donations, Maryann's plan to fix the situation, and how they had carried out the plan
"...And Maryann arrived that evening with all twenty-three boys! It turned out that none of them were happy where they'd been, and they all wanted to come back to the group they thought of as a family. Maryann just explained that she was bringing the boys back together, and nothing about the headmaster—I think maybe she didn't trust me—"-as Nadja added this part with a dissatisfied frown, the now-unmasked Keith snorted-"but it worked, at any rate. They were all reluctant to forgive Mr. Diakos, but he was just so sincere and so guilty about what he'd done, they all agreed to come back in the end."
"And the main reason he agreed to come back was because you told him you could stop me," Keith snorted. "I wouldn't trust that. People like him'll do anything to keep their money."
"No!" Nadja snapped, glaring at Keith vehemently. "He'd agreed even before I told him that! He just pointed out that he probably wouldn't be able to house them in his mansion, since the Black Rose was due to appear and take his money. I told him that I could stop that from happening, so he didn't have to worry."
"Hm," said Keith, lost in his faraway world where he was trying to formulate a plan to counteract Nadja's terrible blunder without letting her realize that she had made a blunder, or that he was going out of his way to correct it for her. "So, no catfights between you and Maryann?"
"What?" Nadja gave a start, then glared. "The only argument we had was a result of this," she snapped, holding out the kaleidoscope, "Which you are now going to take back. You travel just as much as I do."
Keith smiled gently. "I want you to have that, Nadja."
"But-"
"If nothing else, let it remind you of a woman who was locked away in the world of nobles and never got to fly free—as you do now." Nadja did not retract her arm, but looked up at him uncertainly. "So," Keith smiled wryly as he slipped on his mask again, "All this trouble just for Francis's sake—including talking to me."
"Of course," Nadja replied, glaring defiantly. The mask concealed from her Keith's eyes narrowing in sorrow or affection, or both.
"Don't lose that brooch again," he warned her quietly, and ran off in the opposite direction, back the way they had come.
"Wait!" Nadja called, and was only a little surprised when he did. "Don't-"
"I won't take anything, Nadja," said the Black Rose gently. "I promise."
"Then why-"
"I need to leave something to let him know that I didn't just change my night of attack. You don't want him living in terror of my imminent appearance, now, do you?"
"No," Nadja said quietly. "Thank you, Keith."
The Black Rose smiled, and then vanished into the night. Nadja would never learn of the note that awaited Hektor Diakos the next morning, written on the back of one of the Black Rose's cards:
"The girl explained the situation to me; rest assured that you are safe for now. If, however, I ever hear about any steps backward on your part, I'll be back sooner than you expect. Good luck with the orphanage. Sincerely, the Black Rose.
"Postscript: should I ever hear of anyone trying to track me through the girl, or any harm befalling the girl in any shape, way or form that relates back to me and/or you, I'll be back and you'll regret the day you told anyone about the connection. I don't take well to innocents befalling harm on my behalf. I also suggest you burn this as soon as you finish reading it."
Needless to say, the card entered the stove with the coal the next morning, and the man never spilled a word.