Christmas passed badly.

Felix received a carved cavalry horse from his father and a mechanical bird from Hartmann.

Matthias ordered the bird removed.

Felix screamed for twenty minutes.

Eleanor found it later in a cupboard beneath old linens.

She gave it back.

The next morning, Matthias threw it into the fire.

That was their first true fight.

Not the sharp exchanges of tired people. Not the restrained hostility of a household listening through doors.

A fight.

Eleanor snatched the iron poker and pulled the blackened toy from the flames.

“What is wrong with you?”

Matthias stood beside the hearth.

“He will have nothing from that man.”

“It is a toy.”

“It came from Hartmann.”

“So did the medicine that lowered your fever last spring.”

“Do not be clever.”

“I am not being clever. I am trying to understand what level of stupidity I am required to meet you at.”

His face flushed.

“You expect me to tolerate this?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Reality.”

He swept his hand across the mantel.

A porcelain cup struck the floor.

Meissen.

Blue flowers shattered across the carpet.

Eleanor flinched.

Matthias pointed toward the nursery above them.

“Those eyes.”

She stared.

“Again.”

“That mark.”

“Again.”

“His bones.”

“What about them?”

“Hartmann knew exactly what was wrong.”

“Because he is a physician.”

“He knew before he examined him.”

“He suspected.”

Matthias shouted, “BECAUSE HE HAS SEEN IT BEFORE!”

Eleanor shouted back, “IN PATIENTS!”

“You defend him very quickly.”

She stared at him.

Then laughed once in disbelief.

“You cannot possibly hear yourself.”

Matthias kicked a piece of porcelain aside.

“You carried another man’s child into this family.”

Eleanor went pale.

“I carried your child.”

“Did you?”

The room seemed to contract around them.

Eleanor’s hands began to shake.

Matthias saw.

He did not stop.

“Did you?”

She crossed the room and struck him.

Not hard enough to turn his head.

Hard enough that both of them understood the marriage had crossed somewhere new.

Matthias looked at her.

Eleanor whispered, “Do not ever ask me that again.”

He touched his cheek.

Then said, “Hartmann is no longer permitted in this house.”

Eleanor stared.

“Felix is ill.”

“I will bring another physician.”

“You will not use our child as a weapon.”

Matthias’s voice became very quiet.

“Our?”

Eleanor’s eyes filled.

This time she did not strike him.

She wished she had.