After Niabheara left, Marcello poked around the room until he found the collection of colored paper in one of the desk drawers. He pulled out a small stack in various colors and went to work, folding it into various little flowers, which he stacked in a pile beside him on the bed as he went.

"Erskine?" Marcello asked looking confused. He blinked. "Babs?" he called at the door.

The still-very-confused Marcello opened the door to the room. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

The woman, relieved, shoved the door shut behind them and drew the latch in before throwing both arms around him. "Thank God. Are you all right? They haven't done anything to you?"

"What?" Marcello asked, taking a few steps back as he tried to extricate himself from the embrace. "What's-- what are you doing? What's going on? Of-- of course not. What's wrong? Where did you come from? I thought you were in Bavaria."

She waved the remark off. "I was on a ship when that woman, the countess's mother . . . she came looking for me. Don't know how she knew to find me. I've been here since the end of December." She gave him a sober look. "Erskine, I'm so sorry. They've been . . . I don't even know, they have people, they've been mining me for everything I knew about you since I came here. I couldn't help it. It's like they make you keep talking. I was saying things I didn't even know I remembered."

He gave her a confused look. "I don't understand," he replied. "I thought it...was the end of December...I..." He ran a hand through his hair, and looked back at the bed, sweeping the paper flowers off of it and moving them to the desk. "Here, sit down."

She shook her head at the seat. "We have to get out of here. Now. They can't keep the gates locked, not with all these people in and out. Where is she? Do you know when she's coming back?"