Two days passed, with Emmanuel spending his days entertaining Blair and Laurence, rather than painting. Yesterday he had showed them his library and the two men had poured over his antique books, rare translations of The Arabian Nights, Dante's Inferno, and Goethe's Faust.

Laurence had talked with Blair about all sorts of literature, and Blair was surprised how well-versed he was, and they had gotten along better. Despite his bluntness and occasional foolishness, he seemed to mean good will.

Today the three had ventured back to the piano room. Although it had contained bad memories for Blair back when Christopher was there and he could not fit in, Laurence enjoyed it a tremendous amount, and he circled the black grand piano in amazement.

"It's lovely! My mum payed the piano, too, but ours was nowhere near as glorious as this! Tell me, do you play?"

"Of course," Emmanuel replied. "Why would I have a piano otherwise? To decorate a room?" Blair didn't say he thought that was quite likely among the wealthy.

"I've never heard you play," Blair said. He thought of the times he mentioned Christopher playing, and yet it never occurred to him the Duke could play himself.

"I've played a few times, at night, or when you were busy in your room," Emmanuel replied simply. "I didn't want to disturb you."

"You wouldn't be disturbing me, I love music. Eleanora always sang."

"Can you play for us, your lordship?" Laurence asked, a grin spreading on his face. Emmanuel raised an eyebrow. He wasn't one for performing in front of people; he only ever played to calm his nerves or because of his insomnia.

"I have never heard you play, I'm curious," Blair admitted. He looked down at his hands, and Emmanuel couldn't help but think his sly request endearing.

"I've only heard my mother play. Besides that I've only heard it a few times at banquets or pubs," Laurence added. It was much less endearing.

"How did you learn how to play?" Blair asked.

"We had to join the choir or play an instrument at the Academy," he replied nonchalantly. Blair realized it might have held bad memories for him, as it was related to the academy. However, Emmanuel's expression didn't change, and he stood there, back straight, arms crossed.

"What can you play?" Laurence asked.

"Mozart, Debussy, Beethoven, Satie, and some Tchaikovsky," he listed. Blair marveled.

"Please, if you don't mind, play some for us?"

Together, the two turned to Emmanuel and fixated their gaze on him expectantly. Emmanuel turned away from the two.

"I'll play it for you," Emmanuel remarked. He didn't want it to get to Laurence's head.

He settled on the stool and then raised the fall. He poised himself, elbows at an angle, and Blair found his heart thudding at the excitement.

Slowly, the Duke unfurled his hands and brought down a finger, then another. The tune was familiar, but Blair could not bring a name to it. Instead, he listened to it and watched as Emmanuel moved to the music, graceful fingers gliding across the keys like they had only brushed it, and his eyes, half-closed as he looked down at the keys. He nodded his head along, his lips opening and closing the tiniest bit.

The song was very sad, and Blair couldn't help but think of Eleanora, dancing in her dress, cradling a cat, smiling, and then lastly, there was the face of the Duke that Christmas. Lit by the candlelight, and looking at him gently, before he brought down his face.

The song stopped. Emmanuel looked up at the two men. Laurence clapped immediately, and Blair followed, still not yet awaken from his daze.

"The piano hasn't been tuned in some time, and my skills have gotten rusty."

"Oh, don't be so humble, my lord! It's magnificent! What was the name of the tune?"

"Gymnopedie No.1, by Erik Satie."

"I've never heard of it!" he said, as Emmanuel has expected. "Play us another!"

He was about to protest, but then he looked over and saw Blair. His eyes shined, and he nodded.

"Please, Emmanuel."

Emmanuel sighed, and then decided to play along with their whims. He thought of which one to choose, and then remembered Clair de Lune. Clair sounded quite similar to Blair.

He began playing again, and Blair closed his eyes and listened to it. Once again, the tune was slow, and melancholic, as though Emmanuel was crying through his fingers, through the piano. The proud man never once voiced his sadness and regrets, but here they were. Blair heard it, loud and clear.

The second song ended, and then a third began, without any one's inciting it.

"Tchaikovsky's June," Laurence whispered.

June, Blair thought, opening his to bask in Emmanuel's figure, shining, almost, with the sunlight streaming through the window. Emmanuel's skin glowed, and a ring like a halo sat on his hair.

Would he stay here until June? Someday, Emmanuel will tell Blair his story. Someday, he will no longer have a reason to stay here. Someday, Emmanuel will be nothing more than a memory. A warm, and nostalgic memory. Emmanuel stopped, and turned to the two.

His fine features like a cat's, like the Prince Charming one often saw in fairy tales, eyes softer than the girls in his painting. So close, and yet so far. One day, he'd never see him again. Without realizing it, Blair had began to cry.

Emmanuel stood up in a hurry.

"Blair? Blair, what's the matter?"

He reached forward for his shoulder, but then stopped and wavered. Blair's tears fell down slowly, but his expression was serene. Then he laughed, a subdued choking sound, and looked down.

"Forgive me, I'm always crying."

Laurence gaped at him, but even he was quiet.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Emmanuel said, bringing his hand back to his side.

"I simply had a thought, a realization that everything will end one day," Blair murmured. "Like back when I was with Eleanora, life with you will end one day."

"Everything is ephemeral," Laurence said, but he, too, looked deep in thought.

Emmanuel bit his lips. Blair was right; these blissful days will end. Their current peace was limited. One day he would finish his story, and then Blair would surely leave.

Emmanuel laughed hollowly.

"Then to keep the memory, why don't I teach you a tune, Blair?"

Blair quickly shook his head. "I can't possibly! I've never even touched a piano."

"Come." Emmanuel gestured to the black velvet stool, and then when he saw Blair rooted to his spot, pulled at his arm. Jolting at the touch, Blair looked down but followed obediently, and Laurence whistled.

Blair lowered himself down onto the seat, and then looked up helplessly at Emmanuel. His lips couldn't help curving up at the sight of him so nervous.

"Here, remember the keys first. They all repeat, so you only have to remember that keys like this begins with c, and then d, e, f, g, and then a, b..."

Blair tried focused on the keys, and then then nodded as though he understood. However, Emmanuel was too close, and he kept noticing his long fingers, and the deep hum of his voice.

"Hold yourself like this," Emmanuel continued, and then lifted up Blair's hand, and poised itself before the keys. He tapped at his elbow. "Bend this," and then tapped his back, "and straighten this."

Blair sat there like a broken doll, and Laurence couldn't help chuckling, making Emmanuel glare at him. Blair relaxed, glad to see the two getting along as always.

Before long, he memorized the keys, and each time Emmanuel said a letter, he would press on the key. Laurence had also came closer to observe it, and occasionally pressed random keys to the ire of the Duke. Lastly, when Blair was good enough, and that was towards the evening and almost dinner time, Emmanuel decided he was ready for a song.

"Let's have you learn Scarborough Fair," Emmanuel decided. "It goes like this," he said, and quickly played a tune, his arms around Blair's.

Blair flushed, realizing the man's neck and chin was over his head. When he spoke, Blair kept from looking up, for he knew it would be too much to bear. Either way, the voice above his head made him unable to focus.

Emmanuel finally stepped away and asked Blair to perform, familiar smirk on his face. Blair looked down and loosened up. When his body stopped feeling as stiff, he inhaled before he began.

His fingers were much slower than Emmanuel's, and the fingers on the keys was hesitant, but slowly, they grew on him. He played the tune, again and again, with Ethan and Laurence cheering each time, Flemings and the maids nodding along, but it was Emmanuel's proud smile that made him flush with happiness.

Again and again, Scarborough Fair rang from the piano room, and by the seventh time, Blair could play surely, without pauses, and he could finally sing to the tune.

"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine..."

"Wonderful!" Laurence cheered. Even Emmanuel clapped. Blair thought they were making a great deal out of it, but laughed along.

"Playing the piano is much more amusing than I thought it would be," he said. "Thank you for teaching me so many things, Emmanuel, from sketching to playing the piano."

"It's nothing," he said simply. "It has been boring staying here all by myself. I never thought I would be teaching someone either. It makes me—it makes me feel as though even in the future, something would remain. Not everything was for naught."

He leaned against the piano, and closed his eyes. Blair watched him.

"Of course it isn't, nothing is for naught. Everything means something."

"Oh, when you've been as alone as long as me, you don't know anymore." A corner of his lip lifted, but it was not happy, but more of an ironic smile. "My brother taught me piano, drawing, and many things, and I always thought that by living, somehow I'd retain his spirit. Truthfully, the moment I die, there'll be nothing left of him, nor me."

Blair longed to reach out and hold his hand or something similar, but with Laurence there he could only sit rooted to his chair. Heaving a heavy sigh, Emmanuel pushed himself off the piano.

"Never-mind what I said, Blair. Come, dinner should be prepared."

"Yes. Let's forget about the gloomy side of life, and enjoy what should be enjoyed, drinking, eating, and sleeping!" Laurence walked out, but as Emmanuel was about to go, Blair caught his hand.

He turned back to look at him, and Blair put a finger to his lips, and pulled him back into the piano room. They made sure Laurence was down the hall, and then turned to each other again.

"You'll not be forgotten," Blair said, but it wasn't what he really wanted to say. "I'll remember you, Emmanuel."

Emmanuel looked back at him, without responding. He reached out, and then touched his face, much like he had once. He smiled, and caressed his cheek, and leaned in until their noses touched. Emmanuel thought his eyes were so innocent, his cheeks so soft, and lips, too. He laughed.

"Don't forget me, then. I'll hold you to your promise, Blair."