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The darkness outside helps hide my tears. I let them flow unchecked. Gregory holds me close and murmurs sweet nothings in my ears.

As my sobs diminish, he cups my face in his hands and wipes my tears with his thumbs.

"Why don't you tell me what's truly been bothering you tonight?" he says as the moonlight glints off the wet trails on my face.

"It's just--all of this. The ball. The garden. The statue my mother made. Your parents. You. It's all too impossible.

"It can't be happening to me. And if it is really true, it certainly won't last," I explain.

"You're overwhelmed," he guesses.

"Yes," I answer. "It's nothing you've done. It's just me."

"You're wrong about one thing though." He leans close and kisses my forehead. "This is real, and it can last." He kisses my mouth.

I break away gently. "I've stolen you away for two nights now, and I'm working on a third. You should let some other girls enjoy your company."

I can sense his hesitance, his fear I might vanish if he leaves me.

"Don't worry. I'll stay until midnight. I'll even stay in the garden."

He nods and kisses me one last time before returning to the ballroom.

I wander under the stars. I come to my mother's statue again. I examine the name of it.

"Estelle," it reads on a plaque at the base. My mother's name. My face. I wonder at it for some minutes. Why had my mother done this piece?

I am so absorbed in thought that I hear the footsteps and rustling silk only a moment before a foul-smelling cloth covers my mouth and nose. The scent causes my head to whirl. I try to cry out, but it comes out as a moan as my senses fail, and my legs collapse.