A/N: I know I'd said I had wanted to get more posted here before the month was out, but I just got so busy with work.

Erik couldn't stop thinking about what Anne had told him about "that lovely summer" so many years ago. He didn't have such happy memories to look back on, only pain and suffering. Even the brief joyful moments with Anahita were marred by the knowledge that she befell a horrid fate because of him.

No, he had decided long ago that it was better to think of the present and not dwell on the past or hope for the future. He only wound up disappointed when he did either.

He glanced over at Christine, who looked so seraphic sitting by the fire and reading a story to Anne while Suzette mended a hem on a dress.

For the first time, he felt as though he could be happy, truly happy.

Raoul wasn't sure what to make of Mignon. One minute, he found her sweet and endearing; the next, he thought her an annoying little girl who asked too many questions.

Oh, he enjoyed her company well enough when she was listening intently to what he told her, but there were times her voice was just utterly grating. He wasn't even sure why that was!

He'd asked Philippe what he thought of Mignon, and he'd said he found her quite charming. "Perhaps not the type of girl you settle down with, but nice enough to pass a pleasant evening" was how he'd so tactfully put it.

Raoul sat back and wondered at that comment. Settling down wasn't what he'd had in mind when he had talked to Philippe, but, since then, it was all he could think about.

He had to admit, seeing Christine that night when she'd sung so beautifully for the retiring managers had stirred so many memories for him. He recalled the girl he'd spent so many exuberant hours running through fields with and her father telling them all those fascinating stories of the dark northern regions.

It was those very stories that had sparked his interest in venturing north. Oh, it wasn't to seek out goblins and such, of course, but his curiosity and sense of adventure had been piqued during those nights by the fire with the little blonde-haired girl with the clear blue eyes.

Part of him longed for those long ago days, back when they were young and carefree and feeling the first blush of childhood love.

Philippe couldn't sleep. He pushed aside the covers and lit the lamp by his bed. He sighed wearily. He had an early meeting with a business associate, and it simply would not do to show up tired or late.

He decided to venture downstairs to the library to fetch a book. He hoped reading something trite would help make him dr-

'What's this?' he wondered at the light coming from a door that had stayed ajar. 'Raoul still awake? I think I'll just see what's kept him up at this hour.'

He scratched at his younger brother's door before opening it farther. "Anything wrong, Raoul?"

But he barely turned from the window he was staring out of. He seemed a statue, standing so rigidly with his arms crossed and his suit perfectly hanging from his body. "No, nothing's wrong, Philippe. I'm just thinking."

"It seems to me you are doing much of that lately."

Raoul made no sound or movement to affirm or deny his observation.

"Well, I'm off to bed, then. I have a meeting in the morning. Do try to get some rest, eh, brother." Philippe closed the door softly and headed back to bed. He couldn't help but wonder what weighed so heavily on Raoul's mind that it would keep him up so late.