"Master is back, girls! Come on up and get to the kitchen, all of you", the head maid came waltzing in, clapping her hands, scattering the group of maids chittering the day away.

"Madame, who is going to tell him? Will you?", one of the girls approached the head maid and asked slowly.

"Tell him what? Mistress would tell him herself, is it our duty to give such news to the head of the house? Of course not! Don't forget your place now, go get the stew started already!"

"Oh, she's not half wrong, Madame. Mistress is what, only 18! And you know how cold their marriage is, good heavens, they don't even talk to each other", another one opined.

"Goodness, you girls!", the head maid herself wasn't too old, but with all the young ones scampering around, the middle aged woman felt many a wrinkles coming, "Can't you keep your heads in your work? Now get to work and stop idling around".

In fact, if there was one place in the huge Valentine mansion that was lively and seemed to be inhabited by anyone, it was the kitchen. The Valentine family had moved to the capital to engage in the heating politics and the only ones that remained in the family home were the heir and his foreign wife. Faye spent most of her time in her room, while the master of the house was rarely at home.

It had been two years since they had married, there had never been a message from Wallach. She had reported her arrival at Versailles via letter but that had never been answered. Perhaps it hadn't even been received.

"Master Benoit, sir!", the head maid stopped the young man as he headed toward the study. He turned to her and looked at her questioningly.

"Yes, Madame?"

"Err, its my Lady, sir. She isn't feeling very well. I called in the nurse today. She is still resting, perhaps you'd want to go see her."

His gentle expression slightly dulled and an enigmatic look resided on his face. He nodded and proceeded upstairs. The head maid watched his back with worry as he disappeared upstairs.

"Things should improve from now on", she sighed, mumbling to herself, "right?"

*****************

Night had fallen when Faye opened her eyes, looking out the window. She couldn't tell what time it was. She felt neither hungry nor tired of staying in bed all day. She felt numb, frozen in a crack between life and death, wanting and not wanting, dreams and ambitions and happiness. She was unsure and overwhelmed, and all this had made her even more cold to feeling anything than she had been in the past two years. Her eyes, her mind, her entire system never accepted Versailles, it rejected Wallach too. It was as if time slowed down around her, not knowing where to go.

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She rested her head back against the mantle of her bed and slipped slowly into the frozen time. Nothing came to her mind, not a thought, nothing at all. She had gotten used to that though so she didn't resist that loneliness of her mind.

That meditation of hers was soon broken by a knock on the door. She immediately opened her eyes and lifted her head.

His never changing figure never impressed her. He was as kind and unbelievably gentle for nobility as the day she met him for the first time. He was 7 years her senior and at first she felt he had just been taken in by her beauty like all those she had met before. But that wasn't true. That gentleman refused to approach her in any way. Their encounters were always brief and insignificant but he never expressed anything but his absolute gratifying attitude toward her.

He was a charming young man with the best of manners just as nobility is expected to have. Yet he was a failure, discriminated by his own family. Though he was the sole heir, he had rejected any part in politics. He was an army man, something despised by the rest of Valentines. And in Faye's eyes too, he was a failure for a nobleman. He wasn't twisted and disgusting enough to be honored with such a title. And in fact, his unflinching attitude to this reality made Faye hate him from the depths of his core. And she didn't even make any efforts to hide that fact.

"I heard you hadn't been well", he said gently, before sitting down on one of the sofas. He didn't look directly at her.

Faye made no reply.

"You haven't eaten anything...I was told. I don't suppose you are a big eater but you shouldn't skip-"

"Please stop pretending that you know", she spat, "Is it that hard to look at me?"

She felt a devilish pleasure tormenting him in any way she could. She always looked at him with a patronizing look in her eyes.

Benoit pursed his lips, holding his head down without saying a word.

"You don't have to look so glum about it. There is no reason to regret it, after all it wasn't something I didn't consent to. I am not a child you think I used to be, I'm of age. Perhaps you haven't noticed but time has been passing...I'm sure."

"I don't regret anything", he said in a low voice without looking up.

"Oh? I see", she grinned slightly before all expressions on her face died away completely, "It's good that you don't because you will be a father next year."

It took him a while to comprehend what it meant.

"Huh?", he immediately lifted his head and looked her way. His eyes were beaming with shock and a strange tinge of red rushed to his cheeks, with his mouth wide open.

Even Faye's dead pan look melted slightly seeing that expression on his face.

"Does that mean...?"

"Yes, that is what it means", she replied coldly, closely observing him.

He sat with his head down, eyes wide open and lips strongly pressed, a weird excitement rushing all over him as he took some deep breaths and began contemplating what this whole ordeal meant.

Looking at him, Faye could only imagine an equally broken man he would be. She wasn't able to see anything as bright as he'd been looking at.

She let her head rest back and looked out the window on the side of her bed, it was snowing.

"I have to write a letter", she muttered.