November, 1962

Hammelburg, West Germany

Icy winds could be heard battering the window panes outside. Snow would build up on the windowsills, only to be gusted away again mere minutes later. It certainly looked and sounded bitterly cold, so Hans Dietrich was grateful to have a fireplace and a mug of hot chocolate with him. He held the mug to his lips, taking in the warm, cozy scent and tasting the rich, creamy drink on his tongue while patiently waiting for his older brother, Markus, to make his move on the chessboard between them. Eventually, he set the mug down, studying his brother's confused expression. "You doubt you can make a move," Dietrich said.

"I will figure it out," Markus replied.

"Yes, you will figure it out when we are both old and unable to remember what we had for breakfast."

"I doubt it will take me that long."

"I know all your facial expressions when we play chess now. That is the face of, 'I have no more moves left.' Stop thinking so hard. You look like you are going to crack your skull open." Dietrich stood and picked up his five-month-old son, Gunther, from where he was exploring a blanket on the floor nearby. He sat back down, setting the baby on his lap. "Here. Look at the baby for a moment. Do not think about it. Just look at the baby."

Gunther waved his arms, babbling and laughing.

Markus looked like he was finding it hard not to smile back, but then he gave his younger brother a confused look. "What is the point of this?"

"To make you relax so you can clear your head and make a move already," Dietrich said. He pulled Gunther's little hand away from the chess pieces. "Absolutely not."

Markus kept thinking for another minute or two, then finally moved a piece.

Dietrich studied Markus's move. He didn't bother asking if his brother was sure about what he had just done, because that would just prolong the game, and gave a heavy sigh before taking his move, which resulted in the piece Markus just moved being taken.

"I knew that was going to happen," Markus said.

"Then why did you do it?" Dietrich asked.

Markus shrugged.

Gunther blew a raspberry, and pointed at the chessboard. Dietrich started lightly bouncing the baby on his knee while waiting for Markus to take his turn, and looked over his shoulder when he heard his wife, Esther, come downstairs.

Esther smiled when she saw Gunther. "Aww… Are you helping Daddy?"

"No, he is merely a spectator," Dietrich replied, lifting Gunther so the baby was able to see his mother. "Do you need something, Esther?"

"I was just checking to see how much longer you and Markus would be playing."

"It should not be too much longer. Markus is opting for some truly self-destructive moves instead of acknowledging defeat." Dietrich looked back at Markus. "It would take a miracle for you to make a comeback at this rate."

Markus sighed. "I appreciate the confidence, Hans."

"You are most welcome." Dietrich picked up his hot chocolate, keeping Gunther out of the way so the baby couldn't touch the still-warm drink.

It took all of three more moves for Markus to be defeated. While the chessboard and pieces were being put away, Dietrich said, "You are getting better, but you have a tendency to give up when it becomes obvious your opponent has the upper hand. Your moves become desperate, erratic, and so lacking in direction that it basically becomes a mop-up operation for me to clear your pieces out of the way in order to get to your king. You become less of an opponent, and more of an obstacle."

"Well, next time, I will try to be… less of an obstacle." Markus put the chess set back in a cabinet in the living room. "Good game, though."

Dietrich handed Gunther to Esther when the baby started reaching for her. "I suppose it is past time for us to get to bed."

"I still have to shower," Markus said, heading upstairs.

"We can go up to bed once he's finished," Esther said. She adjusted her grip on Gunther in order to stand on her toes and kiss her husband's cheek. Dietrich returned the favor by kissing Esther's forehead, then leaned in to give her a proper kiss on the lips. Before they could commence their kiss, there were three knocks at the door.

Dietrich frowned. "Who could it be at this hour?" It was difficult to see outside with the heavy snowfall and darkness. Dietrich opened the door, and all at once, his confusion dropped like a rock when he saw Sam Troy standing on his doorstep. "Oh. Of course, you of all people show up at this hour. What do you want?"

"Hi. I just got here. They were going to keep the whole flight at the airport until morning because of the weather. I said, 'Nah,' and headed out," Troy said.

"You just… left the airport."

"Yep."

"In the middle of bad weather."

"I managed to get a bus ride, so it's not that bad."

"Still. This… is not a huge surprise." Dietrich let Troy inside. He was greatly annoyed, but Troy looked cold and Dietrich wasn't about to make him sleep outside. "You could not be bothered to call me ahead of time to let me know you were coming?"

"No."

Why are you bothering to ask that, Hans? Of course he did not call ahead. When has he ever called ahead? Never. Dropping in unexpectedly is his favorite pastime. Dietrich went back into the kitchen while Troy took his coat off.

Esther was the next to sigh. "I was going to say, 'It's probably Troy.'"

"And you were right," Dietrich replied.

"Hey, Dietrich, do you have company over already?" Troy asked. "I've never seen this coat before on your rack."

Blood drained from Dietrich's face. Oh. Oh, dear, he does not know about Markus yet. I was planning on introducing them… but not like this! "Um… maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means… stop asking questions."

"You okay, buddy? Is there something I'm not supposed to be—" Troy stopped, and looked over at the stairwell when Markus was coming down. "Dietrich, who's this?"

Dietrich whispered a prayer, then said, "Troy, that is my older brother, Markus."

Troy's expression changed from one of curiosity to one of guardedness. "You mean, the same brother that treated you like garbage when you were growing up. He's in your house."

"If you would take a moment to actually listen, you would learn that Markus and I have made amends. He apologized for what happened, and things have been much better over the last few months."

"Wait, months? You've been talking to your brother for months and you didn't say anything to me?"

"No."

Esther glanced at both of them before leaving the kitchen. "I'm going to put Gunther down for bed. Try not to kill each other."

"I doubt you have to worry about that, Esther," Dietrich said.

Troy watched Markus as the older German came downstairs. "Who else knows about this?"

"Tully. I called him after Markus showed up at my doorstep, to help me decide if it was worth pursuing a chance to make things better with him. I did not call you because I knew you had a bad interaction with your mother just a few months prior, so your judgement would be impaired."

"I would've still tried to help you."

"No, you would not. You would have told me to cut Markus out entirely, and you probably would have become physically violent with him."

Troy looked like he wanted to argue, but didn't.

"I am right, am I not?"

"Maybe a little."

"About which part?" Markus asked nervously. He was cautious when walking around Troy.

"There's no denying you did hurt Dietrich," Troy said, glaring at Markus.

"Yes, I did, but I would not be in his house right now if we had not agreed to put things in the past and move forward. He did the same with you, after all." Markus didn't relax until he was in the dining room, away from Troy.

"I expect both of you to treat each other civilly," Dietrich said, firmly.

"You will not have to worry about me, Hans," Markus said.

"I know, but still, try not to act so scared of Troy. He is harmless when you get to know him."

"He looks like he wants to bite my throat out."

"I'm not harmless, Dietrich," Troy said.

Dietrich sighed, and despite how late it was, he decided to pour himself a glass of wine. "Troy, could you please help my case? And stop scaring Markus. You do not need to glare at him with the same face you gave me all those months in North Africa." He realized having both Troy and Markus present meant that they would have to share the living room for sleeping space. "Can I trust that you will both behave tonight?"

Troy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Dietrich. Your house, your rules."

"Good. At least you can understand that." Dietrich finished his glass. "In that case, I am going to bed."

He wasn't sure he would be able to sleep well that night, but after lying awake and not hearing the sounds of Troy trying to strangle Markus, he made an attempt to drift off.

"Are you okay, Hans?" Esther whispered.

"Yes. Why?" Dietrich asked.

"You seemed… less than pleased when Troy showed up."

"Look, I care about him. I consider him my best friend. That does not mean he can just show up whenever he wants. Worse yet, he is only just now finding out about Markus."

"He definitely didn't seem happy about that."

"No, not in the slightest."

"And I mean in more ways than one." Esther shifted to look her husband in the eye. "He seemed upset about Markus in general and that you never said anything about Markus to him for months."

"Because I was not sure how. I would say something when I was ready."

"Even though you knew that carried a very high risk of them meeting unexpectedly?"

"Yes."

Esther sighed. "Hans, you lecture your friends all the time about having good communication, and here you are—" she poked his cheek, "—admitting that you neglected to say something to Troy."

"It will be fine," Dietrich said. "I mean, so far, I have not heard the sounds of a violent and bloody confrontation downstairs."

"Hans!"

"You saw the look on Troy's face."

"I know, but he is smart enough to know that if Markus wasn't welcome, he would not be here."

Dietrich rubbed his face. "Yes, I know that as well." He turned onto his right side, and tried to get some sleep. "I will figure this all out in the morning."

He awoke to see that the storm had dumped quite a bit of snow all over his property and the rest of Hammelburg, but the clouds had disappeared and the sun was making a vain attempt to melt the snow. Dietrich was up first, and his thoughts immediately turned to Gunther. He was grateful that the radiators were all functioning properly and keeping the baby warm—

Of course, if there was a baby in the crib to keep warm.

Dietrich's thoughts came to a screeching halt when he saw Gunther wasn't in the crib. Where is Gunther? There is no way he climbed out. He looked over at Esther, who was still sleeping. This wasn't exactly the kind of thing that Dietrich wanted to wake her up over, so he chose not to. I will find Gunther myself. He searched the bedroom, finding no sign of the baby, then headed out into the hallway. He checked the bathroom, then went downstairs. Relief crashed over him, and Dietrich nearly collapsed holding his chest when he saw Gunther was alive and well, and in Troy's arms.

That still didn't explain how Gunther got there in the first place.

"Troy, what are you doing with my son?" Dietrich asked.

"Oh, hi," Troy said. "I'm not doing anything. Just saying 'hello' to your cute little stinker."

"And how, may I ask, did you acquire him?"

Troy didn't look like he wanted to answer that. "Well, I didn't get to say 'hi' last night, so I went and got him myself about twenty minutes ago."

Dietrich sighed. "Troy?"

"Yeah?"

"You… went into my bedroom."

"Yeah."

"You went into my bedroom while Esther and I were sleeping."

"You could say that."

"No, do not play stupid with me. You went into my bedroom while Esther and I were asleep, all so you could take the baby from his crib."

"Pretty much."

Dietrich gave up. "Did you at least start the coffee?"

"I can if you want me to."

"Fine, but do not touch anything else. We all know how much of a disaster you are in any kitchen." Dietrich looked in the living room, seeing Markus still asleep in the recliner. "I see you did not kill each other during the night."

"No. Like I said, your house, your rules," Troy said, shifting Gunther to one arm so he could make the coffee. His tone became more serious. "I'm just… surprised you even considered the idea of taking to him again."

"Originally, I did not. He came to me."

"Ah. And… you didn't kick him out immediately."

"No. He said he wanted to talk. In a way, I kicked him out, but I figured the right thing to do was listen before I decided for sure what I wanted to do. Long story short, he has changed, and I am glad that Tully helped me come to the decision to hear Markus out."

"Well…" Troy sighed and shrugged. "Good for you, I guess."

Dietrich watched Troy for a moment, wondering what he could possibly say that was helpful. "This is just how things worked out. I really am sorry that things did not play out similarly between you and your mother."

"It's fine." Troy's voice had dropped to a growl.

Dietrich gently took Gunther from him, and set the baby in his high-chair before going back over to Troy and squeezing his shoulder. "Your tone suggests otherwise."

"No, you know what? I don't care. I really don't. This shouldn't be bothering me anymore. I'm done. I was cut out of everyone's wills years ago. I got all those nasty letters—while I was fighting in Italy, no less—years ago. It just doesn't matter."

"Troy, all I am getting from this is that you are still angry. If this truly did not bother you, you would not be so angry. My suspicion now is that you are not uncomfortable with Markus because of what he did to me, but because he represents something you doubt you will ever have."

"Of course I doubt it. It's never going to happen. Never. Mom could come crawling to my doorstep tomorrow and I would turn her away. I need her in my life the same way I'd need a hole in my head."

Dietrich kept his hand on Troy's shoulder. "Truthfully, you never know how you are going to respond to someone asking for your forgiveness until you are actually faced with that situation. I doubted I would be able to forgive Markus. It took time, and a lot of thought, but I did it."

"It sounds like he's actually changed over the years."

"As a matter of fact, he has. He is a much better person now."

Troy went quiet again. He closed the coffee maker after angrily adding the grounds, and stared at it as coffee began dripping into the pot. "This wasn't what I expected when I came here," he muttered.

"Can I ask why you are here?"

"I thought it'd be nice to visit and see how you and Esther are doing with the baby. I know Moffitt's helped you and now Tully's helped you. Has Hitch come by?"

"No. Not yet."

"Alright. Well, now I don't feel like I'm the only one who hasn't come to help out with Gunther."

"As much as I appreciate the gesture, Esther and I are doing fine, especially with Markus and his wife having offered to help. They live in Munich, but that is still closer than any of you four."

"That's true. I'll give him that." Troy kept staring at the coffeepot, then looked over in the direction of the living room. "Markus is good with kids?"

"He has two of his own, actually."

"Okay. That's… That's good."

There was a distinct absentness in Troy's voice. This certainly wouldn't be the first time Dietrich had helped Troy deal with the lingering damage from being cast out by his blood family. It was something they had in common, and something they discussed often upon learning it. Dietrich had long suspected that there was more than met the eye with Troy during the rare occasion that he managed to capture the crafty, yet tactically lacking sergeant. It took a few years, but now he knew everything.

Well, sometimes he thought he knew everything. Troy had a way of surprising him.

Dietrich decided not to press Troy any further. At least not now. He decided to give Troy time to think, especially since Markus was waking up and Esther had come downstairs to see where the baby was. Breakfast and coffee were quiet apart from Gunther's babbling. He was beginning to try solid foods, and Dietrich had largely left that to Esther. She was much less bothered by the inherent messiness that came with a baby's attempt at eating pureed foods. Markus didn't seem bothered by it, either. Then again, he had experience. Twice.

With the snow having let up, the driveway had to be shoveled. Markus offered to help shovel, as he was physically stronger and not nearly as prone to pain in his back. At least he wasn't going to bury Dietrich in snow anymore, like he and their oldest brother, Konrad, had done when they were children. Instead, Markus was the one to initiate conversation.

"I heard you and Troy talking this morning," he said.

"How much did you hear?" Dietrich asked.

"Everything. I know you had told me Troy has problems with his blood family, but I am unfamiliar with the details. Frankly, I doubt it is my place to ask."

"Ask Troy, unless he gives me permission to discuss what happened with you."

"It is nice to know that he does not hate me for what I did to you, but I feel bad that… our success has upset him."

"I think in time, he will accept it." Dietrich sighed, his breath visible in the cold. "I expected him to react negatively to meeting you, partly because of how you treated me, but also because of his own issues with his family. That was why I hesitated on saying anything to him."

"As your friend, though, I would have assumed you would tell him no matter what his response might be. This was something neither of us expected to work out. I would think it is something to celebrate."

"If this had happened a few years ago, I would not have been so hesitant. Since it came on the heels of his disastrous interaction with his mother, I was… unsure of how to proceed, so I said nothing."

"He sounded… quite bitter about his mother." Markus lifted a heavy shovelful of snow from the pavement, his expression saddening. "It is difficult to express in words how grateful I am that Liesel treats our children like the sweetest little treasures on Earth, because… our mother certainly was not like that. I watched Mother decline, physically and mentally, and when she passed, I realized I had no happy memories. The only time she was ever kind to me was whenever I had done something she wanted. Everything had to be earned. There was never any real love in her gestures. It made me wonder why… why you and Konrad and I even existed in the first place, if all we were to her were free servants, later future servants of the Third Reich." He tossed the snow aside. "I cannot say I hated her. I felt sorry for her."

Dietrich nodded. "I felt sorry for her, and for Father. He was in the First World War and must have seen terrible things. I know that much. I saw terrible things, too, in the following war. Talking about them does not make them go away, but it does help, and for Gunther's sake, I am determined to not become my father."

"I feel I have succeeded in not being like him."

"The way your children run up to you whenever you enter the house tells me you have definitely succeeded. They love you, and you love them more than life itself."

"I do." Markus was quiet as he continued shoveling. "I suppose I need to learn more about what happened before I suggest anything to Troy."

"I would suggest just getting to know him first, period. He really is a good person. Once you befriend him, you have a friend for life."

"If you say so, then I will do my best to get along with him."

"Try not to take anything Troy does personally. He is always more cautious around people he does not know very well."

"Duly noted."

Once the driveway had been cleared, the two headed inside. Esther had already made hot chocolate for them, while Troy was in the living room with Gunther. The baby was laughing quite hard, and Dietrich peered into the living room to see what could possibly be so funny.

"That's just hilarious, isn't it?" Troy said. "Okay, I'll do it again." He dropped a rubber duck next to Gunther, causing the toy to squeak, which in turn made the baby laugh.

"Good gracious, Troy, let him breathe," Dietrich said.

"I will, I will. Don't worry."

Esther smiled before handing her husband and brother-in-law cups of cocoa. "He really is a natural with children. Same with Tully."

"Moffitt was not bad," Dietrich said. "I cannot say I was surprised when I found him showing Gunther how to make a perfect cup of tea."

Markus smirked. "I am not sure Gunther is ready for that yet."

"No, not for a long time. If I remember correctly, Moffitt was showing Jules the 'proper' way to make tea since he was a baby, but did not actually let Jules make a cup until he was about nine."

"Is that a rite of passage in his family?"

"No, only to Moffitt himself."

"Because Moffitt's insane," Troy said from the living room.

"Would you like some cocoa, Troy?" Esther asked.

"Sure."

Dietrich lowered his voice when Esther left the kitchen to give Troy his cup, saying to Markus, "He seems to be in a better mood."

"I got that impression," Markus whispered back.

"Casual interactions like this. That will be your best bet to winning over Troy's trust."

"Got it."

The two became quiet when Troy entered the kitchen. Esther was heading upstairs with Gunther, and once she was out of earshot, Troy said, "No offense, Dietrich, but this is really weak cocoa."

"Are you sure? It is made with your favorite snack—" Dietrich smirked before opening the cabinet to take out a container of powdered baking chocolate.

Markus's grin faded to confusion. "What?"

"He once tasted a square of unsweetened baking chocolate, and did not spit it out."

Markus made a face. "That is not chocolate for eating…"

Troy glared at Dietrich. "When are you going to let that go?"

"Never," Dietrich replied. "I also will not let go of the fact that you dove into a creek when we were chasing Moffitt's horse, when there was a bridge nearby."

Markus snorted.

Troy's glare turned to Dietrich's older brother. "Really? You told him about that?"

"Of course I did," Dietrich said. "I quite enjoy that story, both because of the humor, and because things did start to change for our relationship."

Markus took a sip of his hot chocolate. "I must ask, Troy, why do you consider this to be weak? I think it is quite good."

"Because his way of making hot chocolate is very… unique, and guarantees a very strong chocolate flavor," Dietrich said.

"What he said," Troy added.

"How do you make hot chocolate, then?" Markus asked.

"I throw a few milk chocolate bars in a pot, let them melt, then add milk and cream, and stir it really well."

Markus gave him a confused look. "And… this works?"

Troy nodded.

"I have never heard of this before. There is no way that works."

"It does. Somehow," Dietrich said. "However, never ask Troy to cook anything else. Things have a tendency to… spontaneously combust."

"That's not true," Troy said, rolling his eyes. "Most of the time."

"Need I remind you of the flaming bowl of Cheerios, Troy?"

"That was an accident."

"Still."

Markus was stunned into silence, then muttered, "'Flaming bowl of Cheerios?' D-Did I hear that correctly?"

"You did."

Again, Markus was quiet. He eventually nodded, and said, "Right. Fascinating."

"Technically, I'm not a complete failure when it comes to cooking. I can use a grill," Troy said. "I mean, it's a bit too cold for me to show you, but when it gets warmer, I'll show you."

Dietrich took it as a good sign that Troy was saying things like that to Markus. On one hand, Dietrich felt it was best that Troy was kept in a good mood. On the other, he wondered if he needed to steer Troy in the direction of talking about his past sooner. Dietrich decided to take the patient route, as he was more apt to do. He let the conversation go where it wanted.

Esther joined the group a few minutes later, sighing and saying, "Gunther is asleep. Could we keep things quiet for a few hours?"

"Of course," Dietrich replied. He glanced at Markus and Troy. "Shall we take this into the living room?"

Rather than continuing the conversation, things became silent between the three men. Troy was looking deep in thought, which Dietrich wasn't sure what to make of. He cleared his throat and said, "It has been a little while since I asked, but how is your daughter? Antheia?"

Troy glanced at Markus, then back at Dietrich. "Taking her time getting used to everything. She spends a lot of time around me, but she's slowly spending more time with Shauna. Can't force her. Just gotta be patient with her."

"I was told you were married," Markus said. "Hans said nothing about children."

"Well, Antheia's not mine, biologically. We adopted her earlier this year."

"That sounds wonderful."

"It's equal parts wonderful and stressful. She was orphaned when she was three and lived in a really crappy situation before deciding to run away. My wife and I found her on our property. She took to us pretty well, and, long story short, after a lot of talking, a lot of paperwork, and legal jargon, she's ours now."

"Even with the stress, giving her a shot at a good life is a heartwarming thing."

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." Troy studied Markus for a moment. "That's definitely not something I expect to hear from someone like you. Everything Dietrich told me about you was that you were a brutish thug."

"That has changed. No more. My behavior back then was unacceptable, and it sickens me now to think about how that was encouraged of me."

Troy nodded, still looking like he was closely evaluating Markus the way he studied Dietrich's forces all those years ago. "So, where's the other one?"

"Other one what?" Markus asked.

"The oldest brother. Where is he?"

"Konrad? He has been dead for a long time. Back during the war, actually. He died somewhere in Poland, I think. We never did receive his remains—it was during the Germans' retreat from the Eastern Front. Konrad… I have doubts about his ability to change, if he had lived. It is far more likely that he would have been hanged by the Allies before he even had the chance."

"If he was caught," Dietrich said. "Back in Würzburg, I saw several homeless ex-SS men in the streets and alleys. Knowing Mother, though, she would have welcomed Konrad back with open arms."

"Now that you mention it, I do recall seeing SS among the homeless soldiers back in Munich." Markus looked down at the half-empty mug of cocoa in his hands. "They looked very pitiful, just like the rest of the men in the streets. Not quite the supermen they were painted to be."

Dietrich nodded in agreement. "They were men, just like the rest of us. Nothing special."

"They didn't exactly have a prophecy like you did," Troy said.

Dietrich stiffened. He hadn't planned on telling Markus about the prophecy until he met Moffitt and Anah. His grip on his mug tightened, and he gave his brother a nervous look.

"Hans had a prophecy?" Markus raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. He didn't tell you?" Troy asked. "I'm a little surprised."

Markus turned to Dietrich. "This… This is true?"

Dietrich stayed quiet for a moment, keeping himself composed. "Yes."

He didn't like the silence that fell over the living room apart from the snapping and crackling of the burning wood in the fireplace. Markus looked to be at a loss for words, and Troy wore an expression of regret over what he had said.

"I have… a lot of questions, and I am not sure where to start," Markus said.

Dietrich set his mug on the coffee table in front of him. "Do not bother. I will be back." He sighed before standing, leaving the room, and going upstairs, where Esther was folding laundry while listening to soft music on the radio in the bedroom.

When Dietrich closed the bedroom door behind him, Esther looked over her shoulder. "Hans? Are you alright?"

"Not particularly," Dietrich replied. "Troy mentioned my prophecy in front of Markus."

"Oh." Esther finished folding the sweater in her hands, then went over to the radio to turn it off. "You told me not to say anything about it until Moffitt and Anah visited."

"I know, but I neglected to say something to Troy about it, so in a way, this is my fault. Given that it has been several months since Markus and I reopened communication, it makes sense that Troy would assume that I said something. I know he would never say anything if I expressed that I was not yet ready."

"How has Markus reacted?"

"He seems to be in shock. He has not denied it. He is just… surprised."

"You should tell him everything, then." Esther shrugged. "Not sure what else you can do."

Dietrich kept his voice low. "Should I tell him about the… other thing? About the fact that I was given the ability to have psychic visions while in a sleeping or unconscious state as a 'reward' for fulfilling my prophecy?"

"Maybe wait on that. Take it one supernatural shock at a time."

"Alright." Dietrich drew in a breath. "Thank you. I appreciate you listening." He gave her a kiss, lingering on her lips for a moment, then motioned to the laundry basket. "Would you like help with this?"

"No, thank you. Go tell Markus about the prophecy."

"Okay." Dietrich grinned a little. "By the way, Troy had the gall to say your hot chocolate was 'weak.'"

"Oh, did he? He's not exactly wrong, though. Mine is weak compared to his."

"But it was rude. I love your hot chocolate."

"Of course you do. You do have a thing for sweets, after all."

"Well, I did marry the sweetest thing of all—you." He gave Esther another kiss when she blushed. "I love you, dearest angel." Unfortunately, Dietrich had to step away from showing his wife affection, as he didn't want to delay telling Markus the truth about his prophecy.