A/N: Not much Gilbert in this chapter, I'm afraid. Still, I'm very glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and I thank all those who kindly reviewed: anon, SanguisRubeus, foxyaoi123, Linda, VampireNaomi, somethingsomeonesaid, and Rinkuu. You have no idea how happy your reviews made me! I hope you'll continue to enjoy this story.

– CHAPTER 13 –

Mirage

Apparently, Count Russo's shell-shocked condition had only been a phase. Caterina had expected that much. What she hadn't expected, however, was that that phase would turn out to be the calm before the storm. She had thought that her father had finally started opening up again and getting over his grief, but things only seemed to have got worse. The count had got more and more agitated, snapping at the most unexpected times over any little thing. He had always been a calm man who rarely lost his temper, and even then, he wouldn't usually have raised his voice or got violent.

It was different now. Sometimes he was angry in a cold, calm way, but sometimes he would shout at the top of his lungs and break things. He never hit anyone in the household, but it was a frightening sight, and even Caterina had started avoiding him, praying to God that this was just yet another phase that would soon pass. Thankfully, this wasn't a daily occurrence. In fact, he was almost normal most of the time.

This was one of those bad days, though. He was yelling again now. Caterina stayed in her bedroom, reading, desperately trying to ignore what was going on outside. Fear gripped her heart, and just knowing that her father had snapped again made her stomach twist, giving her a sick feeling. It'll be over soon, it'll over soon, she kept telling herself as she struggled to focus on her reading. She had already read the same line five times.

However, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ignore it. Even though her door was fully closed, she could still hear her father's voice, as well as the voice of the poor butler, the most common victim to the count's volatile mood. The butler's voice was frantic, growing more and more panicked, and Caterina flinched every time she heard a crash. She could only catch a few disconnected words and had no idea what her father was angry about this time.

Maybe she shouldn't be here, trying and failing to pretend everything was fine. Maybe she should go down there and do something about it. Maybe she could talk some reason into her father's head and stop him from frightening the poor butler to death.

Wiping the tears streaking her face, she set her book aside and stood up, just barely managing to keep herself on her feet due to how badly her legs – her whole body – trembled. Her resolve almost crumbled as soon as she opened the door and her father's angry yells became even louder. Even though they muffled any noise she might have made, she still did her best to be as quiet as possible, carefully measuring her steps as if she were breaking into someone's house.

As she made her way downstairs, the yelling became louder and louder, not necessarily because she was coming closer, but because Count Russo was getting more and more agitated. He ranted and raved in a slightly slurred voice. He must be drunk again, Caterina guessed. His mood swings tended to get worse when he drank.

They were in the main sitting room, the door slightly ajar. Hesitantly, Caterina opened it a little more, only enough to peek into the room while still keeping herself well out of sight. The young butler had his back to her, looking tense, his whole body trembling as badly as Caterina's as he begged his master to calm down. Count Russo faced him and Caterina, though he never saw her.

"This is your fault!" the count was saying, pointing an accusing finger at the butler. "He should have been caught a long time ago! I gave you explicit instructions! For God's sake, Terraverde is only a few hours from here! This was supposed to be a very simple task!"

"Y-yes, I know, my lord, but—"

"This is your fault!" the count repeated. "I trusted you with this very simple task and yet you failed me. No one can be that incompetent, Torri! No one! Especially not you!"

"My lord, please—"

"I can only assume that you failed on purpose!"

"I told you, my lord, I would never—"

"You've always had a soft heart," said Count Russo, suddenly very quiet and hissing his words. "You feel sorry for the little bastard, don't you?" And all of a sudden, the count's expression transformed. He was still tense, but his lips curled and froze into a twisted smile that sent chills down Caterina's spine, and the look in his eyes... it was suddenly very intense, yet strangely absent, as if Russo weren't quite there any more. "Yes, that's it. After all, you wouldn't hurt a fly," continued the count, now in a strangely quiet, almost amicable voice. "Maybe I should have expected you to feel sorry for him, but I thought loyalty for the family you serve would outweigh your weakness."

The butler retreated as his master began to approach him in slow steps. However, he – just like Caterina – caught a change in the count's eyes, something in turmoil that ached to be released in an explosion, like a scream that was just barely being held back. It only lasted for a blink, but it was a clear warning and made the butler freeze in his tracks.

"Or maybe," Russo went on, "maybe you're actually working for the enemy. That would also explain why I've been losing so many of my men while the enemy has barely had any losses. Is that it, my dear Torri? Have you double-crossed me?"

"M-my lord, I can assure you, I-I've always been loyal to this family—"

"Ah, Torri," Russo laughed weakly and raised a hand. The butler flinched, but all his master did was pat him on the head, as if he were a little child. "After all these years... and I thought I'd been a good master to you. You were always my right-hand man and I always thought I could trust you of all people. Why do you disappoint me so, Torri? Why do you want to leave me like everyone else?"

The hand that Russo had been using to pet him suddenly clutched the butler's hair on the back of his head and shoved his face against a small table next to them, right into the vase that had been on top of it. It was all so sudden that Caterina didn't have time to avert her gaze or brace herself for the sight of the poor butler's face breaking the vase and getting sliced by the shards. She muffled a gasp and continued to watch, petrified, as her father grabbed one foot from the also broken table and proceeded to beat his servant with it.

"You can't leave me! I won't let anyone leave me! Never, ever again!" said Russo, and although he was still clearly angry, he smiled. A strained, wide smile, which only widened even more when the desperate butler began to scream and apologise. "Stupid, misguided child. I'll make you never want to leave my side again." And rather than relent at his servant's pained pleas and apologies, Russo only hit him harder and harder, until he himself was breathing harshly from exertion.

Caterina could only stare in horror, barely even able to breathe. What really frightened, above anything else, was the look in her father's eyes. They were too wide and glazed over, raw with desperation and fury, and utterly devoid of reason. That wasn't her father at all. He was completely out of his mind. At this rate, he was going to kill the young man!

She had come down here to intervene if things became serious, and this definitely was such a case, yet she dared not make her presence known. What could she do? She was weak in both will and body, and Count Russo might even turn against her, as well. Previously, it had been unthinkable that he would ever hurt anyone like this. Not her sweet, kind father. And yet, he was so far gone now that he had become this violent, so Caterina wouldn't put it past him that he would attack his own daughter. For all she knew, he wouldn't even recognise her until it was too late.

His smile had contorted into a pained grimace now, as if he were the one being beaten to death. Yet he kept hitting his servant mercilessly. Tears blurred Caterina's vision as she finally managed to move, not forward and into the room, but backwards, away from that display of insanity. She couldn't stay here. She had to get away. She was no longer safe in her own house.

Once she had retreated, slowly and quietly, from the sitting room, she sprinted out of the house, only grabbing a cloak on the way out. Once outside, she finally let out the sobs she had been holding back. She kept running, even though she had no idea where she was going or whether it was safe.

"I'm sorry, Father," she whispered between sobs. "I know I promised I would never leave you, but I can't go on like this any longer. I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'll get help... I'm sorry..."

oOo

It should have been a pleasant morning. The sky was clear and a bright blue, the air was fresh and slowly warming in the gentle light of the rising sun, and the birds were happily chirping outside. Under normal circumstances, even Lovino's mood would have improved.

However, when he couldn't leave him room through the door and loud snores could be heard from the other side, the beauty of this morning failed to impress him. This might have worked in his favour, if only he could have left through the window. He would have gone to the opera house without anyone following him. Sure, he would have been without his bodyguard, but what difference did it make? His so-called bodyguard had let him leave the tavern all on his own and hadn't followed him for hours, and now he was sleeping instead of keeping watch. What a lousy excuse for a bodyguard. Then again, he wasn't a bodyguard, was he? Gilbert was only following him around to make sure he wouldn't try to escape from his debt.

At any rate, he couldn't climb out the window. His room was too high up, and Lovino would rather not fall and break all the bones in his body. If he had wanted to kill himself – which he didn't – there were better ways to go about it. Therefore, there was only one thing he could do.

"Wake up, you fucker!" he yelled, with a hard kick at the door. His toes hurt a little from the impact, but the whiny groan he got from the other side of the door made up for it. "I have work to do! I'm going to be late because of you!" Not that Lovino had ever cared about being late, but Gilbert didn't need to know that.

There was some some grumbling and swearing, then all was silent. Lovino opened the door and glared down at Gilbert, who was still sprawled in a big chair in front of his door, completely blocking it. Lovino tried to shove him out of the way with his bare hands, but Gilbert didn't budge at all. He then tried kicking the chair again, punching him, and yelling some more. It didn't work. Fuming, Lovino grabbed the wash basin in his room and doused the water on Gilbert.

"Aw, shit!" Gilbert gasped and spluttered as he lost his balance and fell to the floor, finally allowing Lovino to leave his bedroom.

He didn't even bother getting anything to eat before he made his way to the front door. He was sure that Bonnefoy would serve him breakfast again if he asked, so there was no point in lingering in this house any longer than necessary.

"Hey, wait for me!" he heard Gilbert call out behind him as he crossed the hall. His voice was a little muffled, and when Lovino glanced back at him, he saw Gilbert drying his face with a cloak. "Why are you in such a hurry, anyway?" he asked Lovino, now trying to dry his hair. "Really, who the hell would be up at this ungodly hour?"

"As I said, I have work to do, unlike you," said Lovino, with a contemptuous sneer. "I promised Mr. Bonnefoy I'd be there very early in the morning." In reality, he had promised no such thing. He had promised to be there yesterday, yes, and he had been true to his word, but he had never promised to be there today. He didn't even know if Bonnefoy was actually expecting him to show up, but that didn't matter. Lovino just wanted to get away. Bonnefoy was a creepy, insufferable bastard, but at least he wouldn't pester Lovino aside from the usual teasing and would hopefully act more seriously when it came down to business. Also, Lovino wanted to leave the house quickly, before Ludwig woke up and saw him. Or Feliciano. Or Bella. Or Antonio.

He opened the front door and found himself face-to-face with a grim-looking Antonio. Speaking of the devil... Lovino yelped in surprise and must have jumped a few feet in the air. Not a very dignified reaction at the sight of one's best friend, but Lovino thought he could be excused this time. Not only had Antonio made a very unexpected appearance, but that serious, dark expression was unusual and disconcerting on such a normally sunny face. Moreover, Lovino had seen Antonio's dark side, something he had been hoping he would never witness again. One couldn't blame Lovino for feeling a little disturbed now.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing up this early, you bastard?" he asked, cowering a little. "And why are you staring at me like that? What the hell is your problem?"

Antonio's expression seemed to soften slightly into one of sadness. "If you'd spent more time with me, you'd know." He glanced at Gilbert and his gaze was dark again, a strange, contradictory mix of freezing cold and burning hot. When he looked back at Lovino, his lips twisted into a distressed smile. "But you seem to have made some new friends lately."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Lovino asked in confusion and annoyance. "Are you still half-asleep or something? You know what, I don't have time to deal with your idiocy. Get out of my way."

"Actually..." said Antonio, purposefully standing in front of Lovino and preventing him from going anywhere, "I want to have a word with you. Please, it's kinda important."

Lovino sighed in exasperation. "Can't it wait?"

"No, Lovino. Now. Please."

"Well, if you insist," Lovino grumbled as if he didn't really care to know what Antonio wanted, even though deep down he was struck by the seriousness in his friend's tone. "But if I get late, it'll be your fault. And that bastard's, too," he added, indicating Gilbert, just because.

"I'm sure Francis will forgive you," said Antonio, sounding as if he were just humouring Lovino. Lovino tried to call him on it and demand to know why Antonio and Bonnefoy were apparently on a first-name basis, but Antonio was too busy addressing Gilbert. "Sorry, Gilbert, but I need to talk to him in private. Don't worry, I'll take good care of him, and this won't take long, anyway."

Gilbert, who had started following them as Antonio led Lovino up the stairs, threw them a wary look and hesitated before he nodded in acquiescence and backed away. Antonio happily thanked him for understanding and continued to lead Lovino into a large corridor, his arm around the younger man's shoulders. Lovino shrugged them off, to which Antonio predictably took no offence.

"Lovino, we've known each other since we were kids," Antonio began, his stressed smile still on his tanned face. "You've always been like a little brother to me, and... well, I think you must also see me as a friend, or else you wouldn't have put up with me all this time. I know I'm not very smart and I can't always guess what you're thinking. But I do my best. I may screw up most of the time, but I try so hard, really! It's just—you're so hard to read, Lovino. But... well... you know you can trust me, right?"

"What, exactly, is your point?" Lovino asked, growing tired of Antonio's babbling.

Antonio sighed. "You've been so distant lately. Even though we live under the same roof, I rarely get to see you any more, and when we do meet, you keep pushing me away. You won't even look at me or talk to me, not even when I ask you simple, innocent questions. At first I thought you were just being your moody self and I left you alone so that I wouldn't anger you even more, but... you're still avoiding me. Are you still upset about what I did in Pontebianco?" Antonio's smile wavered for the first time and he began to look quite agitated. "I've already apologised to you! It was all a misunderstanding, I swear!"

"Shut it." Lovino came to stand before Antonio, halting him, and met his green eyes with a cold stare. "I'm not upset about that, and I'm not avoiding you. I just have a life of my own now, Antonio. Just because we're friends doesn't mean we have to be together all the time! I have other friends besides you, you know."

"Yeah, I noticed. You've been spending an awful lot of time with Gilbert," muttered Antonio, the dark glint passing over his eyes again. "Just because you have new friends doesn't mean you have to forget all about your old friends, you know."

Lovino's cold demeanour was broken for a moment, because he couldn't help but gape at Antonio. What was this? Was Antonio jealous? The world suddenly made a little less sense. "Okay, let me make one thing clear," he said after taking a deep, calming breath. "That white freak is not my friend. He's hardly my servant, even. He just decided on his own that he was going to live here because he wants to make my life a living hell. The poor bastard, that's all the amusement he can get in his fucked up life."

"You should have told me that Gilbert was bothering you," said Antonio, now with that serious frown that he used to wear when scolding Lovino for picking people's pockets. "He's a nice guy to have as a drinking buddy, but he's a troublemaker. Seeing you two together gives me a bad feeling."

"I won't get into trouble because of him. I know better. I'm a grown man now; I can take care of myself."

Antonio made a funny face, as if he very much doubted the truth of Lovino's statement and dearly wanted to protest. Lovino tensed, ready to defend himself, but Antonio managed to hold his tongue and just smiled and nodded.

"Okay, Lovino, you know what? Let's talk about Gilbert some other time, okay? If you say you've forgiven me for that thing in Pontebianco, I believe you. If you do have some kind of grudge against me, I'll patiently wait until you're ready to talk about it like an adult. And if you need my help, you know you can always count on me."

"Good! I'm so glad we had this enlightening, heart-warming chat," Lovino said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Now, if you excuse me—"

"Not so fast." Without any effort, Antonio grasped Lovino's forearm, which suddenly felt very thin and frail in Antonio's strong hand, preventing him from leaving. The grip on his arm was firm, but not painful. "There's something I need to show you before you go."

Lovino glared at him warily. Antonio only gave him a reassuring smile, as if back to his usual, laid-back self.

"It won't take long," he insisted, gently pulling Lovino's arm.

With a heavy sigh, Lovino gave in. Maybe Antonio would leave him alone after this. On the other hand, the longer this took, the longer he would be without Gilbert breathing down his neck. That had to count for something in Lovino's favour.

"It's okay if you want to avoid me," said Antonio. "This isn't the first time, after all. I'm used to your cold attitude."

"I thought we'd agreed this conversation was over," said Lovino through gritted teeth.

"But Bella isn't used to it. You were always so nice to her, and now you're avoiding her, too, for no reason. She's been trying to talk to you about something important, but you won't let her! That's why I have no choice but to do this."

Lovino began to ask what Antonio meant, but they had just arrived at the door of a small sitting room, where Bella stood as if waiting for them, and the next thing he knew, he was shoved inside the room and the door shut close behind him with a firm click. Lovino whirled around and tried to open it, to no avail.

"What the fuck? Antonio, open this door!" he yelled, still twisting the door handle even though he knew it was useless. "What the hell do you think you're doing, locking us up here? If this is your idea of a joke, it's not funny! Jerkass!"

"Lovino, stop," said Bella softly. "I'm the one who asked him to do that."

At those words, Lovino stopped cold and turned to look at her in disbelief.

"It was the only way I could think of to talk to you," she explained, with a shrug and a smile that was only slightly apologetic. "Since you've been avoiding me..."

Lovino breathed in and out very slowly. When Antonio had accused him of the same thing, Lovino hadn't felt guilty, but Bella was a different story. Yes, he had been avoiding them, for several reasons. He'd been trying to protect them, to keep them from knowing the trouble he was in, not to mention that he was a little hurt that the couple only seemed to have eyes for each other now, making him feel like a third wheel... In Lovino's mind, those were completely justified reasons.

But then, there was yet another, particular reason for him to avoid Bella. Something that had started even before he had learnt of his debt. He hadn't forgotten what had happened in Pontebianco. He had tried to forget, and he had mostly succeeded to push it to the back of his mind. With all the other, life-threatening problems he'd been dealing with, it wasn't that hard to avoid thinking about something he had never taken seriously to begin with.

Looking at the matter objectively, there was no reason to think about it any more; Bella and Antonio seemed to be getting along so well. Still, it was awkward. Bella had always had that effect on him, actually. Lovino couldn't put his finger on it, but somehow, he didn't feel as at ease in her presence as when he was with any other girl.

"I wanted to apologise for what I did in Pontebianco," she said, cutting into his thoughts.

Lovino shook his head. "You don't have to say that again. I know it was all a misunderstanding. We've been through his several times..."

"No, that's not what I meant." She smiled at him, and although this was a far from unusual occurrence – for Bella smiled as often as Antonio, which was almost all the time – it felt different this time. It wasn't the dreamy smile she'd used to give him not long ago, nor was it the cat-like smile she'd been prone to flashing especially in her younger days or even the polite smile reserved for her elders. "I know you must think I'm just a silly girl with a crush," she began. "Unaware of the dangers and reckless. That I always act without thinking. Actually, Lovino, I do think, all the time. I am aware of the dangers. But, you see, I'm not afraid of them. I may be just a girl, kinda weak and not exceptionally smart, but I do my best to help when I think it's necessary – when someone I care about needs my help."

Lovino wasn't sure he understood. He was long past trying to understand why she was telling him all this; he just could not quite comprehend how someone who claimed to be aware of the dangers and think about the consequences could act like Bella and dive right into the hands of death in order to protect someone else. It was completely stupid and harebrained, in his opinion, and yet...

And yet, it made him feel ashamed of himself. He didn't think he could ever be that selfless. Certainly not without much hesitation and self-doubt. Was he supposed to? If he couldn't be like Bella, did that make him a horrible person? And he had to admit that Bella was very brave, to be so willing to sacrifice herself to help the people she cared about. She wasn't a strong woman, physically speaking, but she had a very strong will and bravery, something that Lovino himself lacked. To think that even this petite girl was stronger than him in any way...

"Still," she continued, lowering her head as if she were also ashamed, "there are times when even the best of us lose control. Sometimes, I do act on impulse and make stupid mistakes. I guess I am a silly girl, after all. I'm sorry, Lovino. I-I shouldn't have kissed you or told you any of those things. You'd just woken up from a terrible nightmare, you were sick and confused... It was very wrong of me. I-I guess I got so scared that I wasn't thinking straight. I'm really sorry."

Oh, God, she was talking about that. That so-called love confession. He hadn't known what to make of it at the time, and he still didn't.

"Back then, you wouldn't even believe me," Bella went on, the rare distress in her voice making it sound foreign to his ears. "I could see it in your eyes. You didn't think I really loved you, did you? Well, you're wrong. You can take my word for it now that we're both safe and sound and I've had so much time to reconsider my words. It's true, Lovino. I love you. I love you very much."

For a moment his heart seemed to stop, and then it began to beat twice as hard as before, making his blood rush to his face. He really hadn't quite believed her back then, but now, after everything she had done for him, after she had risked her own life to help him, after she had become truly familiar with his character and flaws, she still claimed to love him with such certainty and earnest. He found it hard to doubt her again. He tried to, because it was too good to be true and he didn't want to get his hopes up, but he could see now this wasn't just a deluded girl with a silly crush. It looked like she really loved him, after all.

He was almost overwhelmed by the fluttering, warm feeling that threatened to burst in his chest. It was a great, unfamiliar feeling. A pretty girl who actually loved him despite all his flaws... Lovino now saw her from a whole new point of view. He found he could no longer see her as a big sister. She was a woman in love with him. A very attractive woman, at that. Very loyal and sweet, too. Lovino had the sudden urge to hold her in his arms and feel the warmth of her slender body against his, but he held back for now. It wouldn't do to be hasty.

"I-I'm the one who should apologise to you," he stammered, finding it hard to speak when his throat felt like it was closing up. "Even though your timing was kind of bad, I shouldn't have been that cold to you. I-I do believe you. I-I-I—" He wanted to say, I love you, too, but the words got stuck and wouldn't come out. He took a step forwards, intent on expressing himself with actions instead of words and hold her close, maybe even kiss her if she let him.

A small part of him reminded him that this was wrong, that one of the reasons why he had rejected her the first time was because she was supposed to be with Antonio. Screw Antonio! he told himself angrily. If Bella and Antonio were actually happy together, she wouldn't have come back to Lovino to reaffirm her feelings for him. Besides, Antonio was an easygoing, strong man who could easily find himself another girl. Lovino had no such luxury. He was sure he would never find anyone as accepting as Bella. She knew he was loud, rude, selfish, whiny, cowardly, dishonest, useless, and she didn't care. She knew he suffered from the falling sickness, and she didn't care. She knew he was poor and living off his brother, and she didn't care. What were the chances he would ever find another girl like her? No, he just couldn't afford to miss this precious opportunity.

"But there's something I need to tell you," Bella said, startling Lovino out of his dreamland. "After you told me you didn't feel the same way about me... I slowly came to the realisation that... well... I don't really feel that way, either. I've known you since we were kids. I remember when you and Antonio helped me with some bullies... and when you came to talk and play with me, even though I was a girl, and submitted to the indignity of playing house with me." She giggled at the memories. "Antonio played as the father, I was the mother, and you were our son, remember? You were so cute." She laughed again and looked up at Lovino with something like melancholy in her eyes. "I guess I was a little impressed by how much you'd grown up, but after a while, I began to see you more like my little brother again. The cute, grumpy boy that Antonio and I need to protect and love."

Lovino's heart stopped again, this time filling him with cold. What had she just said...?

"That's why I'm sorry I kissed you and said those things. It was wrong... misleading... You were right; it really was a silly crush." Bella laughed and nudged him playfully. "Now I'm glad to know you don't feel that way about me, or else telling you all this would have been really awkward, huh?"

Lovino made an odd noise that was supposed to be a flippant laugh in agreement with her, but came out sounding more like a dying animal's feeble cry. Bella miraculously didn't seem to notice anything was amiss, though, which was why Lovino bothered to put some effort into controlling his breathing and keeping his eyes from watering too much. When his hands continued to shake, he hid them behind his back. Not a minute ago, he had been the happiest he'd ever been in his life; now he felt as though Bella had clawed his heart out of his chest with her bare hands and trampled on it, then left it to rot in a mud pool. He couldn't believe this. He couldn't... believe this. This just couldn't be happening. It was too much. Maybe if he pretended this was happening to someone else, it would hurt less?

"Well, that's all I had to say," said Bella. "I guess this is farewell, then."

"F-farewell?" he managed to whisper. "What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"Home," she said with a casual shrug, as if the answer were obvious. "I was happy to spend a few days here in Terraverde again and celebrate your birthday, but I have to go back to Monterosso now. It's my home, and I have to make sure my grandma is okay. Don't worry, I'll write you letters every day, and I'll come to visit you again as soon as I can. Maybe on Christmas." She pulled him into a hug and kissed him on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, and stay out of trouble, okay?" She pulled away and skipped over to the door, which she knocked before she shouted, "Antonio, I'm ready to go! You can open the door now!"

Lovino didn't move a muscle. His back was facing the door, so he didn't even see her leave with Antonio. After some minutes, his body found enough strength to move to the window, from which he could watch Bella mount her horse, wave goodbye to Antonio and Feliciano, and leave on her own. He didn't move again afterwards, though. His mind was too numb with shock and misery for him to do anything.

Hours later, he found himself back at the tavern, sitting next to Gilbert and surrounded by empty cups. He might or might not have cried on Gilbert's shoulder at some point, but if such a thing had actually happened, Lovino was pretty sure he had made up for it by throwing up on Gilbert's shoes. Francis Bonnefoy joined them at some point, and then came Antonio, and those three got into a drunk discussion about the difference between love and sex. Lovino tried to ignore them and forget this day had ever happened.

oOo

Russo groaned, in the grip of a killer headache. That was very usual, these days. He was sprawled somewhere, probably on the couch. Nothing out of ordinary there, either. He also felt very cold. Again, nothing unusual. His throat felt scratchy and sore, and he was thirsty.

He needed a drink.

"Torri..." he tried to call out, but his voice came out hoarse and pathetic. If his loyal Torri was in the same room, however, he would surely hear him nevertheless. Torri was that solicitous and efficient.

He had yet to open his eyes, but when Torri's worried voice didn't reach his ears, Russo realised that he wasn't in this room. Normally, he would have left it at that and attempted to go back to sleep, since he was too tired to raise his voice.

But he really wanted a drink.

He cleared his throat and tried calling Torri again, this time loud enough. It made his head ring, but he would soon cure it with a drink, so it was all right. He lay quietly, breathing and waiting.

Torri still failed to answer him. That was odd. Torri never failed to answer when Russo called, nor did he ever take this long, no matter what he happened to be doing at the moment. And he would never leave the house without permission.

His eyes hurt when he finally opened them, and it took them a while to focus. Russo began to sit up on the couch and tried to look around.

"Torri?"

He got up and stumbled, paying no mind to the shattered wood and porcelain on the floor or to the red stains.

"Torri? Torri!" He was aware of how supplicant he sounded, how weak and childish, but he didn't care. He just didn't want to be alone. "Caterina! Caterina, come here! I need you! Caterina!" he shouted as he hurried to his daughter's room. She wasn't there.

He continued to look for them – for anyone, really – in this huge, cold house, but his search proved fruitless. He was alone. He refused to admit they had left him, though. Not his loyal Torri, or his sweet daughter. Both had promised not to leave him. They would never break such a promise. They couldn't!

His heart pounding in his chest, making his headache even worse, Russo leant on the nearest windowsill to steady himself and took deep breaths. There was no reason to panic. Neither Torri nor Caterina could have left. Besides, there were the other servants. There were many people living in this house, but since it was a very big house, it was sometimes difficult to find people right away and the place looked deserted. That didn't mean it was actually deserted. It didn't mean he was all alone. He wasn't. They had promised him. He would never be alone. He had nothing to worry about. He just had to keep looking.

From the window, he happened to catch sight of a figure walking from the gates over to the front door. Ah, at last, someone had showed up! It wasn't Torri or Caterina, but still a familiar face, one of his servants. Russo laughed in relief and quickly made his way to the hall to meet the newcomer.

"Eduardo!" he called, and the young man in question immediately froze. In his hands, he clutched a bag full of... something. Russo wasn't really certain. He could only assume it was supplies of some sort. Not that it mattered.

"M-my lord," replied the servant reverently, even though he was shaking so much that he was stammering. The poor young man must be freezing! Russo would normally offer him a drink to warm him up, but he had more important things to worry about right now.

"Where's Torri?" he asked eagerly. Now that Eduardo had recovered from the surprise of seeing his master, his face drained of all emotion, as usual, even though he was still shaking.

"He is... unavailable at the moment, sir. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"But he's here, right? He hasn't left me?"

Eduardo blinked slowly. "No, he hasn't left you at all, my lord. In fact, I brought these for him," he said, indicating the bag in his hands.

Russo breathed a sigh of relief. His loyal Torri was still here, after all. Maybe he was just feeling ill or something, and the bag that Eduardo had brought was probably medicine. Russo would worry about that later, though. At least Torri was still here.

"What about Caterina? I can't find her anywhere, and she doesn't usually leave the house."

Eduardo narrowed his eyes and took his time to answer, as if he were working something out or weighing his words. "I... well, she... er... I'm not sure I should—"

"Eduardo. I'm your master, and if you know where Caterina is, you have to tell me," said Russo, chastising his young servant gently. He didn't like being so strict with his staff, but sometimes it was necessary. They were young and still had much to learn. He offered Eduardo an encouraging smile.

Eduardo swallowed. "W-well, sir, to be honest, I don't know where she is, exactly. I saw her leave the house in a hurry hours ago, but I have no idea where she was going."

Russo's heart clenched, robbing him of his breath for a moment. Without saying anything else to Eduardo, he hurried out of the house in panic. Caterina... She couldn't possibly have run away, right? She was a good girl and she had promised not to leave him, so why would she run away? It was an absurd idea! She wouldn't—she couldn't! Surely she had simply gone out for some fresh air! To mingle with the people, even though she had never showed any inclination to do so before.

But why would she be in a hurry, then?

He froze in his tracks when he found her, right there in the village, laughing and waving to someone she had seen some distance away. Once again, Russo was giddy from relief. He had worried for nothing, after all. He was so silly. Why, he had even come all the way here on foot, something he had realised just now.

He took a moment to catch his breath and stumbled over to his daughter.

"There you are!" he said, taking a hold of her arm. She gasped in surprise and turned to look at him with wide eyes. Russo was used to this reaction; he had been told that he moved very quietly and seemed to materialize out of nowhere. He would actually sneak up on people for fun sometimes. "Don't do that again. You gave me quite a scare," he told her in a good-natured singsong tone.

However, she had become very pale and was still staring at him as if he were a ghost. "Wh-what—what do you want from me?"

"This isn't the place to talk. The commoners are watching," he said, tugging at her arm. "Come with me."

If anything, she looked even more frightened. She began to shake and her eyes welled up with tears. "N-no! Please, don't hurt me!"

Russo gave her a gentle, reassuring smile. Even after all these years, his daughter was still a crybaby. She must know that she had done wrong by leaving the house without permission and giving her father a scare; she must be thinking that he was going to punish her.

"Don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you. I could never hurt my precious daughter."

His daughter was silent for a moment, her breathing laboured.

"Daughter?" she whispered, as if confused.

Russo giggled. His daughter was as silly as her old man.

"That's right," he said, caressing her face. "I would never hurt my own family. Not even Natalia, despite her... problems, and certainly not you, my sweet Caterina. You were always such a good girl..."

Again, she was silent for a moment. "A-are you okay?" she asked hesitantly.

"I am now that I've found you." He tugged at her arm again. "Come on, let's go home."

"B-but—"

"Come on, Caterina! Be a good girl. I still have to talk to Torri."

She protested a little more, but he paid no mind to her, basking in the happy knowledge that he wasn't alone, after all. Eventually, his daughter settled down and they both walked home in companionable silence.