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"Christine," he sighed, "don't say such things. You're not sensible-"

"But Erik," I pleaded, "honestly-"

"Christine, I said-"

"Two weeks early, that was now long-"

"Enough, Christine!" he cried, making Gustav's eyes open wide. "Have I not shown you I will care for it? What is that nursery beside you, filled with everything from toys to little shoes? Or perhaps you fear I would hurt any child that is not mine, as a man like me is expected to do? Have I given any inclination that I would harm your child or take it away from you? Have I?"

"That's not what I'm saying, Erik, look at him-"

"Look at what?" He waved his hand at me and turned back to the bath. "My dear, you are just confused. You must be exhausted, after enduring that, after all, exhausted... I suggest you quiet yourself until you've had a bath and a good long nap. Then we can have a very late Christmas Eve dinner afterward, won't that be nice?"

I sighed in indignation. "That does sound nice, but would you please listen to me for once? I can explain. I'm perfectly sensible-"

"I will listen after your nap, as I expect you will change your ridiculous idea then... Let me get the bassinet. Do you want him beside you while you bathe?"

I emitted something between a groan and a whimper of defeat. "Oh, not too close, in case the water sloshes over or anything, or the air is too dense."

"Then I will do that," he said, turning to leave.

I groaned again, then asked Gustav, "What if he doesn't believe me later, either?"

He just stared up at me with his eyes full of stars. I decided to feed him then, in the way the midwife had shown me. I felt like I was handling him too roughly, though, as I supported him closer to me. He didn't whine or fuss, but he refused to latch on. It wasn't frustrating, simply interesting for me. What it would feel like once he did? It wouldn't be painful at all, would it?

After deciding he must not be hungry, he found it suddenly, and I felt all this happy emotion bubble up within me. I hardly knew if he was getting any milk, though I could feel it, in a way. It was like something within me was turning inside out. That was the only description I could think of.

I found it was rather uncomfortable at first, but I settled into it. There was much sensitivity there, and I hoped that would go away, as it felt like he was tickling me with sandpaper. I hardly noticed such minute pain now, though, especially because of how tranquil he looked.

I glanced over at the bathtub. It was only half filled, and some water was heating over the fire. Steam permeated the room.

Gustav's mouth was suddenly quite rough against me, as he must not have been receiving milk and grown frustrated. I applied pressure to myself the way the midwife had shown me, and perhaps that gave him a few drops to appease him, because he let go and fell back asleep. If this was all one had to do with a baby- feed it and watch it sleep- then this would not be so difficult after all. There would be diapers, of course, and I ought to give him baths, oh, and dress him in little outfits! It all seemed fairly simple. I wanted such a simple routine.

"Here it is," Erik told me as he came in, then his hands slipped on the bassinet, and he struggled to keep his eyes down as he caught it.

"Does it really matter now?" I asked, not making any move to button up my dress. "You watched me give birth, after all."

"It surprised me is all," he replied, handing me the bassinet. "Put him in."

"Don't drop it now."

"I wouldn't drop a child of yours, even on accident."

I set him inside, taking care to tuck him into the white blankets. Erik placed him at the edge of my bed, facing towards me, so I could see him while I bathed.

"I need to wash your sheets," he told me as he began to pull them off. "Or perhaps throw them away... You'll need a new mattress, too. I had no idea births were so..."

"Messy?"

"Yes. But I also had no idea it would take so long for the baby to, well, come out of you. I thought it took about an hour, maybe less. A few pushes, and there it was."

"Oh, I wish... but at least I'll never have to do it again."

"At least..." He glanced at the sheets with distaste. "On second thought, I'll have you sleep in my room. I doubt I'll be able to buy another mattress until after Christmas..."

"Where will you sleep?"

"Downstairs, I suppose... Let me finish your bath before I worry about the sheets, though. You need to rest."

He did so, then promptly left, the soiled sheets in his arms. I sat at the edge of the bed, suddenly concerned that I needed help to walk. My joints felt like lead.

I undressed anyway. I had to peel most of my clothes off, as they were all caked with sweat and dried blood. There must have been nothing appealing about me, so perhaps having Erik help me into the bath would hardly matter. I felt like I was returning from a battle, battered and bruised. I was able to toddle over to the bathtub, though, on my own. The water turned opaque the moment I lowered myself into it, and I couldn't help but sigh. It soothed my aching limbs, enveloping them in warmth. I longed for such a gentle embrace after being beaten from the inside out by my own infant.

For a moment, I stared into the dirty water, at my own pale reflection. To my surprise, nothing about my appearance had changed. I felt no different, either. I had thought motherhood might do something to me, but to my knowledge, it had not.

The soap was resting atop a folded towel Erik had left for me, and I began to run it over my arms until it foamed. Then I rubbed it in, all over, delighting in the feeling of cleanliness again after hours of being glued to my own clothes.

Then Gustav started crying.

"Erik?" I called.

Silence.

"Erik?" I called again, frailly.

No reply.

I would have to get out on my own. After all, I had gotten in, so how hard could it be? I placed my hands on the rim of the tub and pushed myself up by sheer will. My whole body trembled from exertion, my elbows buckled, and I collapsed back into the water, whimpering. Gustav continued wailing. The sound tore at my heart until I began to cry, too.

The door opened. "Christine?" Erik said softly. "Oh, shh, shh, he's fine, let me help you out of there. You splashed water over the whole floor. Why didn't you call for me?"

"I did," I argued through tears, keeping my arms crossed over my chest.

"You're so tired. Let's get to you bed now."

He wrapped a towel about me, affording me as much modesty as possible, and helped me into his room. Then he went to retrieve Gustav. The sheets on his bed were fresh, and he seemed to have perfumed them with lavender. The scent was weighing down my eyelids.

"Here he is," Erik told me as he returned, setting the bassinet down beside me. "Better now?"

I picked Gustav up and placed him against my chest. "Much, thank you... Could you bring in a nightgown for me, though? And a hat for him- the little blue one. I'm afraid he'll get cold."

"Yes, of course. Do you want anything to eat? You devoured that omelet earlier."

"Some crackers. My stomach doesn't feel too well... thank you- oh, and a glass of water, please."

He nodded and left. His attitude towards me gave me confidence, but it also made me wary. Would it change once he knew Gustav was his, if he even accepted it? But why wouldn't he?

Once I had dressed, I found myself too exhausted to eat the crackers Erik had brought me. I put Gustav in his bassinet on the floor and promptly fell asleep.

...

When I woke, the room was dark, but the door was open to let in a bit of flickering light from downstairs. I glanced to the side of my bed for Gustav's bassinet, and found it missing.

Why had Erik taken him? He hadn't lied to me earlier, had he? Oh, what if he had taken him away! Could he have?

I stumbled out of bed in my stockings, hurrying downstairs with two hands clutching the railing for support. How did my legs still ache this terribly? It wasn't like they had done any work. I felt like lead weights were tied to my wrists and ankles.

Upon arriving at the base of the stairs, I found Erik holding Gustav on the sofa in the drawing room. He did not hold him to his chest, rather examined him like a specimen in his hands. The two were illuminated in firelight. The Christmas tree glittered just beyond them, and Erik had already placed all my presents beneath.

"Good morning," he told me, turning so that his mask reflected the glow from the fire. "A very early morning."

"You're holding him," I observed.

"I wanted to see if you were lying to me. I could see nothing to support your claim... or disprove it."

"Then let me explain," I replied, reaching out to take my child back.

Erik handed him to me immediately. He went to sit down across from me in his armchair, hands folded beneath his chin. I tucked Gustav's blankets more tightly about him.

"The midwife said he was two weeks early," I explained. "A couple weeks were her exact words. That is the same amount of time between when... you know, and then when we consummated the marriage."

He nodded slowly. "How do you know the midwife was correct? The baby could have just been small."

"She was certain he was at the very least a week early."

"And as I did not hear this, you could be lying to me."

"Why would I be? You already promised to provide for him."

He rested his head back on his hands, and nodded for me to continue.

I inhaled. "Well, then there's his hair. Mine was blonde when I was born, and darkened over time. My father told me. I was a little cherub, he said, but he did also specifically tell me that my hair had been blonde. Obviously R-... the vicomte had blonde hair as a baby."

"What color was your parents' hair?"

"My mother's was brown. My father's was blonde."

His hands began to tremble, and he dropped them into his lap. "Is there anything else?"

"No... I don't think so."

"You do know that it is impossible for you to have conceived a child during a miscarriage?"

"I don't think I ever miscarried. I don't think I was ever with child then."

"Don't lie to me," he insisted, his knuckles turning white on the sides of his chair. "You went to bed with me. You must have been certain you were with child."

"I only suspected. It hadn't even been three weeks yet, but I had the signs, and I knew you would know if the child was late or early, so I had to act quickly."

"And deceive me."

"For the sake of my innocent child, yes."

"But the nausea?"

"Anxiety. The first day must have been food poisoning, but then it was just anxiety that made my stomach churn."

"Your delayed time of the month, though, explain that."

"It can happen when I'm distressed over something." I rocked Gustav in my arms. "Do... you believe me, then?"

He stared down at the floor, past his folded hands. "You have no reason to lie. You do know that, if he is my son, you are quite obligated to stay with me?"

"I... I know. It wouldn't be right of me to take him away from his father, unless I was concerned for either of our safety, which I am not."

With that, he buried his head in his hands, curling up into himself. A shudder ran up him, and he was racked with sobs. I sat there like a frightened hare, unable to reach out for him or consider what perhaps I should say. I simply watched as he wept.

It took perhaps a half hour before he quieted fully. He had used up four handkerchiefs in that time, and though he tried to hide his tears from me, his eyes were red and watery as he finally looked up.

"Do you want to hold him?" I asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

"No..." he said, still sniffling. "No, but... I would quite like to touch him, to be certain he is real."

"Of course. His hair is so soft, just run your finger along his forehead. It's like stroking a bird."

"You would know about that," he laughed wetly.

He came over to my side and reached out a trembling hand to Gustav's curls, which were poking out from a little blue hat. One stroke across his forehead, and Erik was wholly satisfied.

"I have a son," he whispered. "Your son."

I nodded, smiling weakly. "You do... Isn't he the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"

"Certainly the second... Oh, do you think he will be bright? Musically, I mean?"

"I expect so."

"Why, he could be a composer! A real one!"

"Erik, you're a real composer-"

"But famous, Christine, my darling Christine, imagine having a famous son! Even more than you were, and all the elites in Paris knew your name!"

"Erik, you're getting too excited, he can be whatever he wants to be, after all-"

"But he can be everything I never could."

I fell silent for a moment at this comment, shifting uneasily where I sat. "I suppose."

"Because he will have a mother who loves him, and a father who will teach him, truly teach him... Oh, I can't believe it, I can't believe it! A son! I have a son!"

"Shh, shh, you'll wake said son if you continue exclaiming your joy."

"But he's mine," he all but whimpered. "I have two now, you and him... I can hardly believe it..."

"Merry Christmas," I told him, smiling.

"Merry Christmas... Oh, speaking of, do you want to open your presents now?"

"Maybe later. I'm still exhausted."

"You slept for a good seven hours and you're still that tired?"

"I pushed this whole baby out of my body, Erik, I have a right to be tired. What time is it, anyway?"

"Around one o'clock."

"I ought to go back to bed, then. I am starving, though."

"I could make our dinner... a very late dinner, of course."

"Oh, a lot of people stay up till sunrise. It's not so bizarre. Are you hungry, though?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Are you sure you want to make our whole Christmas dinner alone? We can wait until tomorrow- well, this evening, I mean. I'll probably feel better then."

"If that is what you want to do."

"Yes, I think so. I want to help with it..."

I looked over at him. His gaze had been drawn into the fireplace, and I glanced back down at Gustav.

"Erik, put your arm out like this," I told him, resting one of mine on the side of the sofa.

"Why?"

"So you can hold your son. And then you support his legs with the other."

"Christine, I-"

"For me, please? You already attempted to hold him earlier."

"That wasn't like this."

"I know. I want you to hold him as your son and not an object of curiosity."

He looked from me to Gustav, then back up into my eyes. "If you insist."

He extended his arms in the way I had shown him, and I set Gustav in them. Erik's eyes softened as they came to rest on him.

"He's so small," he whispered.

"So very small," I agreed, smiling.

"And warm..."

I brushed my fingertip over Gustav's forehead, and his lips parted and shut in his sleep.

"Do you want him back?" Erik asked after only a minute of this.

"Only if you're tired of holding him."

"Do you get tired of it?"

"I assume I will, at some point."

"I don't know how anyone could ever..."

He gave him back to me regardless, and we sat in peaceful silence. Then Erik offered to play carols for us on the violin. I accepted eagerly. My voice was a bit strained from earlier still, but I sang a bit with him, until the music was interrupted by a soft cry from Gustav.

"Do you think he's hungry?" I asked.

"I don't believe he should be for the first couple of days," Erik replied, setting down his violin atop the piano. "Perhaps he's uncomfortable?"

"Let me see."

I undid his blankets, and he continued crying faintly. Then I peeked into his diaper.

"Maybe it's a bit wet," I said. "I ought to change it, anything that might help... Could you get me a fresh cloth?"

"Certainly."

He headed upstairs. I undid the safety-pins with care. The diaper was only a bit damp, but he had never worn one before, so perhaps any bit of discomfort would upset him. The poor dear...

"Why are you crying?" I asked, stroking his red forehead. It had wrinkled like a prune. "Is it really the diaper that's got you so upse-Oh! Erik! Help!"

He ran down the stairs and bent over the railing. "What, what?"

"I need towels, and fresh blankets, he just went everywhere! It's all over me, and maybe the sofa too, oh."

"Why did you take his diaper off before I had a new one ready?"

"I didn't know he could do that! And I just got clean," I moaned, reeling from the scent of urine. "Maybe that was why he was crying, oh..."

"I'll get everything, just stay there," he said as he hurried back upstairs.

"I want another bath. I think it got in my hair, even... Oh, you're laughing, aren't you?" I said to Gustav. "You thought that was funny, I can see it in your eyes, you mischievous little boy. You're going to be trouble once you can get places on your own, that I know."

Erik hurried back down and helped me clean him up and replace his blankets. Then he went to make me another bath, this time here in the drawing room. I held my arms aloft in disgust.

"You gave me such a fright, Christine," he told me as he placed Gustav in his bassinet. "Don't scream 'help' unless it's pressing."

"I was surprised is all."

"And tired. That was probably why you thought it a good idea to take a boy's diaper off before you had a clean one in hand."

"But I didn't know he was capable of that."

He started laughing, warmly and genuinely. "Just don't do that again."

"I certainly won't. He'll have the quickest diaper changes you've ever seen."

He continued heating the water, chuckling to himself. Then he turned to me.

"Didn't you say you were starving earlier?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. I forgot about it, I suppose."

"What would you like? I can make it for you."

"Do we have peas? For pea soup?"

"We do."

"That, then. And some herring with it."

"In it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Oh, no, no, just with it, on its own. That would be strange, even for me."

"I'll go prepare it. Call me when the water starts to steam so I can add it to your bath."

"Do I get to eat in the bath?" I asked hopefully.

"If you're so inclined, though the pea soup may not be done by then. Do you want a glass of wine or champagne?"

"Champagne seems a bit ceremonious."

"You did give birth to a child. That is quite deserving of champagne."

"You're right... Yes, I want a glass of champagne with my pea soup and herring. How silly that sounds."

"Not silly at all, my dear."

He left then. I called him back in for the water only twice before he had finished my little meal. That is, he hadn't finished the pea soup yet, but he brought out bread with my herring, and a champagne flute filled to the top. I laughed at it, and he smiled at me, then glanced at Gustav in his bassinet.

"Do you mind if I hold him while you bathe?" he asked timidly.

"Not in the slightest. I would prefer it. I don't want him to be set down for too long."

"I agree..." He went to put the last bit of water in my bath. "Also, I insist you wear your nice nightgown after this. It's Christmas, after all, don't put on that old plain one."

"Yes, I'll do that. And tomorrow- well, today- I think I'll wear my blue dress. The less nice one, with the white embroidery, and then my sapphire necklace. That is, if I have the energy. I think I'll go back to bed in an hour or two after I eat something and we open presents. Speaking of which, I still need to get yours."

He dropped the pot of water into the bath, then jumped backwards so he wouldn't get burned.

"Mine?" he whispered, turning to me with wide eyes.

I nodded. "Yours, of course. They're not very nice, because I had to make them myself, but they have a lot of meaning in them, I think... Have you ever received a gift before?"

He shook his head, then turned back to the bath to clean up the mess he had made.

"Well, that's about to change," I told him. "It's only two, because I'm not so creative, and they're not exactly wrapped, because I wanted them to be a surprise, but... I think you'll still like them."

"I would like anything you gave me."

When the bath was ready, Erik took Gustav away and shut the doors. I had thought he would know I was too exhausted to care about that now, as he had already seen me bathing earlier when I fell back into the water. It was very respectful of him, though. For the first time in a long while, I felt entirely comfortable.

I glanced down at myself, at my stomach. Would it... deflate? I felt a bit lighter, but I still had a wide waist. It wasn't like I minded my appearance, just that I hoped it might go back to normal soon. It had to, of course. Mothers didn't walk around with all this empty space for the rest of their lives, did they?

The bath was far too warm to leave for some time, and the fact that I was eating herring and champagne was delighting me far too much. I heard Erik in the kitchen after a while. Evidently he was finishing my pea soup and had left Gustav in his bassinet. That brought me out of the hot water.

After getting dressed, Erik and I talked, passed Gustav back and forth, and it was all quite nice. I felt my eyelids growing heavy again, though, so I told Erik we ought to do presents now so I could go to bed. He went to retrieve mine, and I pulled myself upstairs to get his.

Had these stairs gotten longer? I was panting by the time I had reached the top, and I had to lean against the wall. But I managed to get into my room and retrieve his presents, which I brought down none too gracefully.

"Here," I said through labored breaths.

"You could have asked for help if it exhausted you so," he replied.

"No... I wanted... to."

"You first," he told me, gesturing to the presents lining the coffee table.

"Then yours last?"

"Mine last."

I glanced over at the fireplace, and my lips parted in regret. "Oh, no, we forgot to set our shoes out-"

"Next year. It's not like Père Noël was going to visit us, anyway."

"Shh, not in front of the baby," I teased, pulling a gift into my lap as Erik took him from me.

There were stockings inside, the striped ones I so adored. Then I opened one of diamond earrings, another of pearls, then two boxes of fine shoes, a bottle of expensive lavender perfume, and then the last was a wine-red dress. The fabric felt like... almost like velvet. It had a bow on the bustle and the bodice was decorated with little black flowers amidst the dark fabric.

"It's different from what I normally wear," I said, quite unusually enthralled by it, "but I like it very much. I need more variety in my closet."

"You like everything?"

"Very, very much. And here are yours."

I had hidden them on an end table beside me, and now I gave them to him, trading both for Gustav. He stared down at his lap with his malformed lips parted.

"You wrote this?" he asked softly as he picked up the piece of music. "You finished it?"

"I did. I thought it would make a nice Christmas present for you... And then the scarf, I made that for you because, well, I'm good at making scarves. I thought you would like one."

"I do... very much."

"Oh- oh, and I have one more, I-I forgot."

He looked over at me, blinking slowly. I placed my hand on his cheek- the one not warped and ruined- then I pushed his mask up so I could kiss him. He exhaled in surprise.

"Merry Christmas," I said.

He mouthed something in reply, then asked timidly, "May I, too?"

"Of course."

I shut my eyes. He cupped my face in his hands, his fingertips tracing along my jaw. His lips pressed against my cheek like a whisper, then I felt a wet droplet roll down it. But it was not my tear.

"I never thought I could have a day like this," he said softly, stroking where he had kissed with his thumb.

I rested my hand on his. "I hope it will continue."

"Yes, I hope..." His eyes cleared. "Do you think... you could ever love me now?"

"Love isn't exactly predictable. But I do love you, in a way."

"Do you think it is possible, though, to love me as a husband?"

"It depends on what the future brings, Erik. I can promise nothing."

I only said that because I couldn't bear to tell him "no."