Right then! Oskar is still in the grip of mad-grief but as the fog begins to clear, he starts to notice the horror going on around him in terms of the Jews. He won't be dragged off to Dachau till the next chapter. This was one of my favourite chapter's to write in the original and I hope you re-readers will see how I've amalgamated three-ish chapters into one :) Hope you guys enjoy!

And I might point this out, this IS NOT alternate history, as in E & A, and thus goes the actual history way :)

Chapter Three: Forgive
Our Foolish Ways

"Julia! Julia!" Oskar cried out to his daughter as he followed her blindingly through the Palace, smacking into a doorway as she ran ahead of him.

"Don't you go out there!" Oskar shouted, his right forefinger pointing out of the large bay window into the bitter February night, where more fresh snow had fallen gently on the balcony.

Julia was standing by the door, barely dressed but for her white muslin, she cocked her head to the side and smiled softly, her eyes sparkling.

"Don't you dare!" Oskar's voice was stern but loving as he stood straight, adjusting his dressing gown, which was untied over a pair of thick pyjamas.

"Julia!" He exclaimed loudly as he skidded barefooted through the entrance hall after his daughter as she slipped through the door and out onto the balcony.

The bitter chill of winter shot up Oskar's feet as he stepped out onto the snow, watching as Julia skipped through the snow, seemingly unaffected by the weather.

"Come on, Papa!" Julia pulled herself up onto the thick alabaster balustrade, kicking her legs and flicking her golden hair back behind her ears.

Oskar shook his head and smiled. He stepped through the snow over to Julia, and in one movement, had hoisted himself up beside her on the balustrade.

Julia was looking up at the stars, which winked and twinkled at her from the clear night sky, she was so entranced by the stars that Oskar was surprised she didn't fall back onto the ground below.

"Do you like the stars?" Oskar whispered gently, his head angled so he too looked up at the night sky, but still kept one watchful eye on Julia.

"I like them, Papa," Julia smiled "I'm a star, aren't I?"

"Julia," Oskar scolded her gently "I've told you. Stop talking like that, you're not a star yet," he tapped Julia on the tip of her nose "And you're not going to be for a long time."

"You always said that when people die, if they are good, they'll become a star, whilst if they are bad, they'll become a weed," Julia smiled "I don't like weeds."

"No," Oskar agreed "Neither do I," he pointed up into the darkness, to where there was a space between two of the stars "That's where I'll be one day, you'll be able to look up and see me, and one day after that, your Mama will be up there too."

"And one day I'll be up there, won't I?" Julia asked.

"Yes," Oskar twisted his body awkwardly so he could kiss Julia's hair "But that won't be for a long, long time."

"Oskar!" Oskar jumped and looked up as his name was called.

Lucine was standing in the doorway, her warm velvet and ermine dressing gown wrapped around her slender frame. Her light brown hair, usually piled around her ears with pins, was slung over her left shoulder in an untidy plait. She held her slender hands out to him "Come."

"Lucy, we...we..we can't leave Julia," Oskar's voice was low as he replied, not moving from the balustrade.

"Julia isn't there, darling," Lucine's voice was gentle as she walked out onto the balcony "Come, let's get you inside."

"Not there, not there, Lucine, she's right...," Oskar trailed off as he turned to where Julia had been sitting.

She wasn't there.

"...here," Oskar breathed, he jumped off the balustrade and began to search for her "Julia! Julia! Julia, come on, darling, don't play games!"

"Oskar! Oskar! Oskar!" Lucine reached her husband and tried to take his face in her hands.

"She was there, Lucine, she was there, she was there a moment ago!" Oskar avoided his wife's outstretched hands and darted halfway down the steps.

"Oskar," Lucine's sharp voice finally made Oskar turn around to face her"Julia was never there! Julia is dead!"

"No!" Oskar whispered, smiling "No, Lucy! She's not, she's...," Oskar took a deep breath and motioned to the balustrade "She was sitting right there!"

"She's dead!" Lucine repeated herself, her own grief only increasing as she realised how far her husband had fallen "She's dead, Oskar!"

Oskar finally fell silent and stared at Lucine.

What on earth made her want to marry him?

It couldn't have been his extroverted charm. Because he was, most certainly, an introvert.

It couldn't have been his dashing looks. Because he was the runt of the Keller litter.

It couldn't have been his array of friends. Because he had, at most, two.

He was the quiet, introverted, rather odd looking heir to a tiny, albeit vastly rich and cultural, German throne. The only one that had survived the 1918 revolution in which the Hohenzollern dynasty had fallen to its knees.

Lucine von Stennemann could've had anyone.

Why him?

"Oskar," Lucine called him again, holding her hands out to him "Come."

Oskar walked back up the steps, his feet white from cold, and, completely brushing past Lucine said "I think I can find my own way back, thank you."

"Oskar, I'm only trying to help," Lucine called after him, her calm demeanour managing to stay intact even as her husband ignored her and continued back inside.

She sighed slightly as she looked up at the stars, and a soft smile spread across her face. Lucine stayed for a moment, hearing nothing but the eerie silence of a winter's night, and then she slowly walked back inside.

Ahead of her, Oskar stumbled wide eyed back through the halls, not only were his feet protesting over the sudden, shocking change in temperature, but his entire mental faculty was telling him different things. His waking thoughts were reinforcing what Lucine had been saying; Julia was dead, she was dead, he had buried her. But his subconscious mentality was privy to her voice. He heard her as she played in the garden, throwing snow up into the air and standing and laughing as it fell back around her.

Oskar wandered back up the stairs, his feet not working in coordination with his eyes as he missed a step and fell, with a crash, to his knees.

"Sir, let me help," Oskar looked up as his valet, Karl Ostermann, appeared out of nowhere and took his elbows.

"No, Karl, no, let me go!" Oskar growled, trying to push his young valet's hands away.

"But, Sir, let me help, your hands, you've fallen on marble," Karl still insisted and wrapped his hands around Oskar's upper arms "Let me..."

"No!" Oskar violently pushed Karl back "I gave you an order and you are supposed to follow it, but you didn't! Now let me go!"

Pushing himself up with hands that were cold, and now bleeding from tiny cuts, Oskar stepped round Karl, who sat bewildered on the step above his master, and continued back up the stairs.

Oskar reached the first floor landing and, instead of heading back to his own bedroom, he turned down the hallway towards the nursery corridor.

As the marble walls gave away to elaborate wooden panelling, and the tiles underfoot changed to soft carpet, Oskar felt the safe, homely feeling that came with entering the nursery corridor.

As he walked through the corridor, he passed each of his children's rooms. His youngest, the 'Little Pair', the twins; Lili and Luise, who shared a bedroom. The boys, Michael and Heider, who had asked to share a bedroom so they could easily keep their toy soldiers in ranks.

Then came Ilsa's bedroom.

Oskar stopped at the door and peered through the gap between the door and it's frame. From the silence, he could tell that Ilsa had long fallen asleep, but the light on her bedside table still shone.

Her father slipped inside the door and made quietly for the light. He looked around the room. It wasn't the room that Ilsa had started off the year sleeping in.

She had been further down the hall with Julia.

But had refused to sleep in the room since.

Her room now looked out over the front of the Palace, the windows watching the swans slide across the ice which had frozen over the lake. Oskar smiled as he thought of how Julia and Ilsa had spent Weihnachten pulling the twins across the ice on wooden sleds, carefully holding onto the others arm to prevent any unwanted slippages.

Glancing away from the window, Oskar turned to look at Ilsa. Her dark brown waves had settled over her shoulders and around her pale face, which was turned to the side to reveal her elegant profile.

How terribly alike she and Julia were.

Oskar leaned down and kissed Ilsa's cheek, whispering "Sweet dreams, my little one."

Ilsa murmured something indistinctly and shifted slightly, before turning her body so it face the opposite wall.

Oskar's fingers brushed the light switch and the room went dark, but for the natural moonlight casting shadows across the room.

He turned away from the window and slowly, as not to wake his sleeping child, walked back out into the hallway.

The Grand Duke would've turned back, he should've turned back, but something made him turn left upon leaving Ilsa's bedroom.

Something he could never explain.

As Oskar stopped at the door, he sighed and felt an icy chill run down his spine as he placed a hand over the wood.

He pushed the door open and felt weeks of cold air was over him in a rush to escape, it darted round the desk, in between the legs of the bed and straight through Oskar, before streaming out into the hallway and continuing back down the corridor.

It was as if the room hadn't been lived in in years.

Not days.

Oskar felt a lump lodged deep in his throat as he looked around the room. In daylight, the walls would be the colour of lilac, though in the moonlight, it was little more than white. On his left side, there were two cast iron beds, separated down the middle by a little white cabinet. The beds both had white sheets, covered by cream lace, and tucked into the side of the one of the left, Oskar noticed, was a small pink rabbit, white-washed with age. On the wall around the bed were letters, postcards, drawings, photographs of family members and even little trinkets such as lockets and keys to music boxes.

On the other side of the room was a white dresser and wardrobe. Above the dresser was an elaborate mirror, and surrounding the mirror were more photographs, some of capital cities, others of movie stars and singers.

Directly facing Oskar was the desk that Julia would've sat at to write her diary. It sat in between two full length windows. The curtains were drawn. The Grand Duke quietly crossed the room, pausing as the floorboards creaked underneath his weight. As the noise subsided, Oskar stepped over to the curtains and with one hand, pulled them across each window,

As he pulled the curtain on the right window across, he sighed and turned to the desk. There was nothing there now, except empty ink pots and broken pens.

Nothing left.

Oskar turned back and wandered over to the bed with the rabbit. He sat on the bed, running his hand over the lace covering of flowers and leaves, feeling the beautiful material caress his palm.

After a while, the Grand Duke lay down, letting the silence envelope his entire being as his head brushed the soft, feathery pillows.

He could only hear the sound of his own breathing, and as he turned to face the other bed, the position Julia would've taken up on many nights to secretly talk to her sister, or check that she was asleep, he found a final gift from her.

A long strand of golden hair.

Oskar smiled as he noticed it, but before long, belated sleep finally got the better of him and he closed his eyes.

He was finally able to sleep.

Hastily placing the picture of his family in the drawer of his desk, Oskar spun around in his chair as he heard a knock on his office door.

"Come in!" He called, straightening his tie and standing up as the door opened.

Ada Kluge, the matron of University Hospital Dresden, walked into the room. Ada wasn't a sterotypical matron, she was short, five feet in height at most, with mousy brown hair tied into a tight bun at the back of her head and small round glasses in front of kind brown eyes.

"Matron. Kluge, whatever is the matter?" Oskar asked, seeing the distress in Ada's face as she stood in the middle of the office.

"I think you should take a look outside, Dr. Keller," Ada nodded gently towards the window.

Oskar turned and neared the window. He could hear indistinguishable shouting coming from the street outside. What was going on?

Throwing the net back and unhooking the latch, Oskar opened the window and was shocked by what he saw on the street below him.

The road leading up to the hospital looked out over a normally bustling high street. The snow was sprinkled over the landscape, obscuring road from footpaths and making the red brick rooves of the buildings resemble gingerbread.

But something was wrong.

Below him, Oskar watched as dozens of people crawled through the hospital entrance, some holding themselves in pain, others being carried. Looking to his left, Oskar saw members of Dresden's police force piling bodies up. Some were wearing black uniforms.

The Shutzstaffel.

As his eye's travelled back over the scene, Oskar noticed that, mixed in between the crushed snow and ice, resting between the cobbles, was scarlet blood.

"What happened, Matron?" Oskar asked.

"The SS attacked a large group of Jews, Sir," Ada's voice was grave behind Oskar.

"For what? What were they doing?"

"Apparently, Sir, they were preparing to go for a walk, Sir."

"So now even going for a walk is illegal under Hitler, is it?" Oskar turned away from the window to face Ada, whose son, Maximilian, had joined the SS two years ago after being a proud Hitler Youth child.

"It would seem so, Sir, yes," Ada, for her stature, was one of the most defiant women that Oskar had had the pleasure to know.

Oskar opened his mouth to reply but was stopped when someone from outside called his name "Keller!"

Looking out the window again, Oskar saw Gerhard Eichel, the head of Saxony's Police Force, staring up at him. His hands were on his hips as he spat "Aren't you supposed to be doing your job?"

"I was going to, my dear Gerhard," Oskar smiled "If only you'd let me."

Eichel's dark blonde moustache twitched and pushed his hair back behind his musty green eyes to look up at Oskar proper "Well if I leave you to do it, will you get on with it?"

Ignoring Eichel, Oskar locked the window back up and turned on his heels to the door, stopping to grab his long white coat, Ada following him.

As he walked down the stairs and through the corridors towards the receiving room, Oskar could already hear the moans of pain from many of the injured people.

Reaching the receiving room, Oskar switched into professional mode. As much as it pained him to admit it, Julia didn't matter here. The patients did.

Ada also turned into the perfect hospital matron "Right, all those who are able to walk over to this side of the room."

As the injured listened and moved, Oskar held the door open as two police officers carried in the beaten body of a young man.

"Lay him there," Oskar commanded, pointing to the desk.

As the officers ran back out, Oskar noticed the blood stained knuckles of the man who lay moaning on the desk. Approaching the man, Oskar saw the bright yellow star of David sewn onto his jacket lapel, indicating that he was an enemy of the state. A Jew.

Taking a small torch out of the inside of his jacket, Oskar shone the light in the eyes of the man, who groaned indistinguishably and tried to bat Oskar's hand away.

"No, no!" Oskar whispered, placing a hand on the man's shoulder "I'm here to help, now stop struggling."

The man did as he was told and let Oskar examine the gash to his head, which was gently oozing blood. Whilst Oskar was wrapping bandage around the man's forehead, Eichel quietly strode through the entrance, watching as the junior doctors and nurses aided men, women and children.

"Herr. Eichel?" Oskar glanced up briefly "What can I do for you?"

"Give me a couple of Jews to interrogate," Eichel mumbled as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"You mean give you a couple of Jews to send off to the Gestapo," Oskar's voice was low as he spoke, Eichel's bushy eyebrows furrowing with anger as he caught the Grand Duke's reply.

"Do you think I enjoy doing it?" Eichel hissed quietly "Do you think I enjoy it, Keller?"

"You enjoy it more than I do," Oskar cut the used bandage from its roll.

"I had to have my daughter break off her engagement, her engagement!" Eichel said quietly "Just because her fiancé was a Jew. I had to break her heart."

"But you still don't have to do this," Oskar passed the bandaged man to a young nurse and turned to face Eichel "Do you?"

"It's my job, Keller," Eichel sighed "I'm sure you'll understand."

Oskar ignored Eichel and continued to walk around the Receiving Room, making sure everything was running smoothly.

The clock struck six as Oskar strode through the main corridor of the hospital, stopping only to adjust his gloves over his long fingers. He was heading for the waiting car that would take him home; and to a dinner with his family that Oskar wasn't looking forward to.

The Grand Duke reached round for his suitcase when he heard a commotion outside. He glanced up briefly and saw two young men clad in black; members of the SS, shouting and laughing with one another.

It was only when he looked up again, at the shout of a racial slur, that he noticed more.

"Fucking Jew!" Oskar's blood ran cold when he saw the two young men beating and kicking a frail elderly man to the ground.

The man was scratching around on the cobbles for his spectacles; one of the men held them under his boot laughing as the Jewish elder continually missed where his glasses were.

It only took one more look at the terrified, bearded old man, cowering in fear, for Oskar to take action.

Running through the hospital entrance, Oskar shouted "Get off of him!" He violently pushed the two young men away from the Jew, surprising all three of them with his superior strength which seems to have come from nowhere.

But it was only when the officer who had been kicking the Jew recovered his bearings, that he and Oskar realised who the other was.

"Max Kluge?" Oskar's voice was little more than a whisper as his mouth went dry with shock. The last that Oskar had heard of Ada's wayward son, he was in Berlin. Tall, broad shouldered, with a chiselled face, platinum hair and ice blue eyes, Max Kluge was everything the Nazi's envisaged for their army elite. The SS.

"Your Royal Highness," Max Kluge bowed his head and stepped aside.

"You should know better, Maximilian," Oskar told him sternly "Your mother has bought you up better than this," he motioned to the Jew who lay virtually blind on the ground, squinting up at Oskar.

"But, Sir, this is a Jewish man!" Max hissed through gritted teeth "He is an enemy of the state!"

"In Berlin perhaps!" Oskar emphasised that he still ruled his state "Not in Saxony! The Nazi's may be in the Reichstag, but I'm the one who decides what happens to people in my state, thank you, Max."

"It won't be your state for much longer," Oskar turned around sharply as he heard Max's friend state what would probably turn out as the truth.

"I think, it would be best, if you both went back to Berlin," Oskar motioned down the street "The train station is just down there, I'm sure you will get very reasonable rates this late in the afternoon."

Oskar watched as Max nodded to his friend, and the two stepped over the Jewish man, Max's friend kicking him one last time in the back. Watching as the two figures made their way down the street towards the station, Oskar felt anxiety engulf him as the second man's words sunk in.

It won't be your state for much longer.

Luca Kirsch's influence over the Saxon people was becoming even more powerful. In the past six years of Nazi rule, propaganda tools such as the Hitler Youth and the Strength through Joy programmes had been popping up all over the country, and Saxony was no different. Whilst Oskar was the sovereign of state, his rule was a constitutional one, which meant he had to listen to what the Nazi's told him to do. Whilst he was essentially powerless, he was slightly more powerful than the average German when it came to resisting.

The Grand Duke bent down and took the hands of the elderly man, who was shaking with fear and cold, his teeth chattering as Oskar helped the frail man to his feet. Passing the man his spectacles, Oskar smiled as the worn hands placed them back where they belonged; perched on the edge of his nose.

"You..you..your Royal Highness," the elderly man took Oskar's hands and kissed them "Thank you, thank you!" The elder's grey hair was matted and unkempt, riddled with head lice as he bowed his head in respect.

"Think nothing of it, my friend," Oskar smiled "The Fuhrer may have indoctrinated the likes of those two, but he'll never get to me. I'll continue to help everyone."

Oskar reached inside his jacket for his wallet and pulled out a ten Reichsmark note, handing it to the man "Here, to buy you and your wife something to eat."

"Thank you, Sir," the elder bowed his head again "What can I do to repay you?"

"Eat well, keep yourselves hidden," Oskar whispered "That's all I ask."

"They've taken my two sons to a labour camp," a bereaved expression crossed the elders face "I doubt I'll ever see them again."

Oskar could say nothing, but placed a comforting hand on the man's bony shoulder "You'll see your sons again. In time."

"I would like to hope so, Sir," the elder's blue eyes were full of unbridled emotion "You are what makes this state what it is, Sir. I couldn't imagine anyone else but you as Grand Duke. You put your brother to shame."

Oskar felt a chill run up his spine, but put it down to the cold as he replied "Thank you, my friend. Take care of yourself, my friend, and God be with you."

"And to you, Your Royal Highness," the elder bowed a final time, before turning and beginning to shuffle up the street towards the Jewish sector of the city.

Turning, Oskar plunged his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders up against the cold, and as he side stepped the slippery cobbles, he headed towards the waiting car.

As he was taken home, Oskar thought of what the Jewish elder had told him. He had put Matthias to shame.


The longed for son of Wilhelm and Luise Keller. Wilhelm was the indebted social climber from the lower ranks of the Keller dynasty, a descendant of a second son of a Grand Duke. And, as Oskar had been taught at a young age, second sons were not of much importance in a powerful family. His mother, Luise, was from a rich, frugal family from the North, near Hamburg. She had been forced into a loveless marriage where Wilhelm's affairs, debts and several illegitimate love children were the only things which had been left to her when Wilhelm had died in 1922.
Their first son, Matthias, was the original Crown Prince of Grand Duke Matthias, his namesake, and when he died in 1919, reportedly of Spanish influenza, the entire state had been forced to mourn.

But not Oskar.

Oskar refused to mourn, refused to discuss him and refused to be associated with him in anyway.

He hated Matthias.

A sly smile, unattributed to Oskar, crept across the Grand Duke's lips as the car drew up outside the Palace.

He was home.

Lucine raised only the furthest tip of her eyebrow as she spied Oskar padding into the dining room in his slippers, brown corduroy trousers and red jumper. Oskar was hoping not to be spotted as he crept into dinner with his wife, three oldest children and mother, who all had their heads bowed in prayer.

Oskar slipped into his chair at the head of the table, opposite Lucine, and inspected the starter course which had been laid out for him despite his absence.

To Oskar's horror, it was a form of soup. He hated soup.

"Amen," the word reverberated around the table and slowly, the faces of Oskar's immediate family looked up and turned to face him.

"Oskar," Luise Keller smiled at her son and patted his hand.

"Mamma," Oskar nodded back "Thank you for coming."

As the children and their grandmother began to eat, Lucine stared at Oskar as he picked at his soup "Don't you have something to say?"

Oskar looked up from his starter "I don't know, do I?"

"You have to apologise, first for being late, and second, for not praying," Lucine jutted her chin out at Oskar as he tore at his bread roll.

"Apologise for not praying?" Oskar echoed his wife and scoffed "Lucine, I am the head of this family, I think I can decide when and where I shall pray."

"But you haven't decided when or where to pray for some time," Lucine smiled politely "You haven't been to mass for a long while. I doubt you've set foot in the chapel for anything but the funeral."

The cutlery gave a sudden clatter as Oskar banged his fist on the table "No," he said simply "I refuse to discuss this now."

"If not here, why?" Lucine challenged him.

"Because the children are present," Oskar growled.

Lucine fell silent and continued her soup, watching as Oskar tore little bits off his bread roll and placed them in his soup. He watched the bread bits float around in the soup as the rest of his family ate.

"How are the girls, Mamma?" Oskar didn't look up as he asked after his three sisters; Silvia in New York, Heike in Sweden and Marte in France.

"They are very well, thank you, Oskar," Luise dabbed at her mouth with her silk napkin "Silvia will be sending some clothes over for the children. And she'll need to know their measurements because they are growing so fast."

"Well, why can't she send some clothes to American children instead?" Oskar snapped suddenly "Why does she have to send clothes to my children? Making out I cannot provide for them! There must be plenty of orphans in New York for her to clothe!"

"Oskie, dear," Luise took Oskar's hand and rubbed her worn fingers over his knuckles "Do calm down. She's only doing what she's done for years."

"Don't call me that!" Oskar exclaimed, pulling his hand away "Don't call me Oskie!"

"Oskar, stop behaving so childishly!" Lucine ordered from across the table "You're setting an example, remember."

"An example to who?" Oskar exclaimed "The children? They already know their father's mad but they've recently had it confirmed, haven't they? If anyone is setting an example, Lucine, it's not me! You know that you do not tell me what to do ever! And my mother knows never to call me Oskie!"

"You know what, Oskar?" Lucine stood and made her way round to him "You can go to bed, go on," she pushed him from his chair "Go on."

"Will you come up in an hour, tell me off and then have me over your knee?" Oskar's eyes widened sarcastically "Or will you leave that for the nanny?"

"Go!" Lucine raised her hand and pointed to the door.

Oskar bowed and cynically said "Yes, Your Royal Highness."

He turned and stalked back out the room, shutting the door with a bang.

"What was wrong with Papa?" Oskar caught the five year old Heider's innocent question as he turned down the corridor.

He didn't hear Lucine's reply as he passed the dining room, heading towards his 'workshop', essentially a disused sun room.

Shutting the door of his workshop behind him, Oskar exhaled erratically. He pulled his jumper off and threw it on a spare chair.

Along the length of the wooden table in front of him, were glass panelled cases, each displaying a small amount of his huge butterfly collection. The butterflies were from all corners of the globe, and as Oskar looked up, he noticed the case at the end of the table open.

He strode over to it, squinting in the dim half-light from the old gas lamp in the corner of the room.
The case at the end of the table was the most recent one. Oskar hadn't yet finished cataloguing the butterflies in that one.

One was missing.

Oskar peered at his own curled handwriting on the label.

The Julia was missing.

He looked around the case, thinking the beautiful, long winged black and yellow butterfly had fallen out of its place.

It wasn't in the case, or on the floor.

"Papa," Oskar looked up as he heard her call.

He turned his head and saw his Julia standing by the window.

"Look," Julia walked over to her father and placed, in his hand, the missing butterfly.

Oskar smiled and looked up as he replaced the Julia, hoping to see his own Julia smiling at him.

She was gone.

"Oskar," the Grand Duke opened his eyes and found himself propped up against the wall, the trails of long since cried tears along his cheeks.

"Oskar," Oskar looked up as he heard a rap of gentle knuckles on the door as Lucine called him "Darling?"

Standing up on unsteady feet, Oskar stumbled toward the door.

He scrabbled around in the dying light for the door handle, his grief over his dead daughter bubbling to the surface as he opened the door and fell into Lucine's arms.

Oskar's shocked Grand Duchess was finally aware of her husband's fragile mental state. As he cried uncontrollably into her chest, she felt his spine arch beneath his clothing and in a long blubbering sob, he whispered while clutching at her neck "I'm sorry, Lucy, I'm so, so sorry."

"For what?" she asked.

Done! God this has to be one of my longest chapters EVER! But it was fun to write :) What did you think? Obviously, re-readers, you guys know where this goes, but what did you think of it all, especially the new/modified bits? And what do you think of Eichel in this one?
And for those who read E & A, what similarities and differences can you see between Oskar and Lucine and then David and Alice? Who would you rather spend a weekend with, if you had to?
And another question, how do you see Oskar in your minds eye, appearance wise? I love seeing how other people see my characters! Include Lucine aswell if you like :P

E & A will be updated by and all reviews will be repaid by Sunday! Brownie promise!

~Katzzz :)