Once Myrddin had calmed down, he texted Rosemonde to let her know that he was running late but on his way. The rundown federation home she shared with Summer was in Newtown, not far from Sydney's central business district. As it turned out, he arrived at her door no more than ten minutes after the agreed time.

She stepped out to greet him, wearing a wide smile. He could see that she had made an effort. Although she rarely wore makeup, she was evidently skilled at applying it. The eye shadow she had chosen accentuated the gold flecks in her hazel eyes.

"Wow, Rosie, you look great."

"I figured since you're going to the trouble of trying to help the lost cause that is Rosemonde Durand, I should at least try to look presentable."

He thought she looked radiant and caught himself staring at her for a moment before he replied, "Hardly a lost cause. Could you...would you wear your hair down?"

"Ugh! Tying it up helps to somewhat disguise, that my hair is the colour of rust, but I can't be bothered dying it."

"Don't you dare dye it! It's glorious. You could have been Titian's muse."

"Who?"

"Such a savage!" Myrddin rolled his eyes and sighed in mock horror. He took out his phone to show her what he was referring to. "Titian was a Renaissance painter. He used many rust-haired models in his paintings. You, my sweet, have Titian hair. Embrace it. My vain little sister Gwendolyn spends hundreds of dollars getting her hair that colour."

"She does it on purpose?"

Myrddin laughed at the incredulous expression on her face. "Well, she's an art student who actually knows who Titian is. Perhaps that has influenced her. It certainly looks better on her than the raven black she favoured in high school."

Rosemonde bit her lip and crinkled her nose either in confusion or concentration. He couldn't be sure. He found her completely adorable, and what made her even more so, was that she had no idea.

He was used to women who knew they were attractive and who used their looks to manipulate him. Women like Zoiia. He was also used to women trying to seduce him. Certainly, the sex was great, but he was bored. He was weary of not being able to talk on an intellectual level with the type of woman he seemed to attract.

Rosemonde was different. He found it...comfortable. He wanted her to like him for him. There was something about her. She inspired him. Perhaps this is how Titian felt about his muse.

"I have an idea." He grinned at her.

"Should I be concerned?"

"You don't trust me at all do you?"

"Not at all," she answered straight-faced and without hesitation.

"That's probably wise."

"Of course."

Is she flirting with me? Myrddin exhaled and tried not to laugh. She was so cute. "What I was trying to say was, that I think we should use Titian's colours as inspiration. You need to lose the bland convent colours and shapeless styles and be more daring."

"Convent colours?" She looked mildly offended and crossed her arms.

Myrddin was unperturbed. "Put yourself in my hands, love. Let's go shopping!"

She frowned, looking afraid, suddenly.

"Will you relax? This is going to be fun."

"Who are you, Pygmalion?" she quipped as she got into the car.

"Ah, not such a savage after all. Touché Rosie...."

They shopped, laughed and shopped some more. Her new wardrobe was exquisite and filled with colour. She couldn't wait to show Summer. Rosemonde had spent a fortune, but since she rarely spent money on herself, she didn't feel too guilty.

After her brother had died, her mother had fallen ill. Her father had had to sell the family home to cover medical and other expenses. Then, he had fallen ill himself. There were always bills to pay and things seemed to go from bad to worse. She was thrifty. She'd had to be. It worked. She survived. When what was left of her father's estate was finally settled, Rosemonde did not have enough to buy her own place. Nevertheless, she had accumulated a small nest egg that she could either invest or use to travel.

Within the space of five years she had lost her entire family — brother, mother and father, so she chose the latter option. She needed to get away. Like a wounded animal, she felt the need to separate herself from the herd in order to rest and recover. Working her way around the world helped to shut out her pain. Slowly, she began to heal.

She rarely talked about her loss — didn't see the point. Yet, when she and Myrddin stopped for a late lunch, she found herself answering all his questions about her family candidly, rather than changing the subject like she usually did.

"You've been through so much. How are you still smiling?" He shook his head, as Rosemonde shared her story and philosophy with him.

"My family is gone. Nothing is going to bring them back so, I decided I would simply dig my heels in and get on with life. I'm still here. There has to be a reason for that. Perhaps in some small way, I'll be able to make a difference in the world. I made the decision to be the best person I can be, and live life to the fullest. I refuse to give in to despair. Certainly, I have my moments but that's normal. I think there would be something wrong with me if I didn't cry. I guess what I'm saying is that I am choosing to concentrate on counting the blessings I have, rather than dwelling on past misfortune."

Myrddin stared at her. How different they were. He wanted revenge on those who had harmed or wronged him. He needed to hurt those who had hurt him. Yet she, with everything that she had been through, was counting her blessings? How is that even possible for someone who had lost as much as she had?

"Myrddin? Why are you looking at me like that?" Rosemonde asked.

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm trying to understand. When my mother died. I lashed out at everyone around me. She was the only one who believed me...er, I-I mean, believed in me. Suddenly she was gone. I had no one else. My father either ignored or berated me.... I had, have an older brother. Well, I mean he's only twelve minutes older but...." He closed his eyes briefly and exhaled before continuing. Rosemonde could see that he too found it difficult to talk about his family. "What they say, about twins being close...it isn't always true. Owen left without a backward glance, as soon as he was legally allowed to hold a job. I didn't understand why he couldn't take me with him. I've no idea where he is. I don't really care. I felt abandoned at the time and I grew resentful. I was miserable, consumed with hate and very very angry. I think I still am, to be honest."

Rosemonde reflected on what Myrddin had told her. "I get that, I really do, but misery is just one option. You can choose again if you want to." Before she could stop herself, she reached for his hand across the table.

Myrddin looked at her small hand in his. "I do want to," he said quietly; and then he laughed: "I think it's already starting to happen. My baby sister is changing me. I'm much happier around her. She was only about four when I left home, but since I didn't get on with step mummy dearest, I figured she'd soon forget all about me. She didn't. As soon as she was able to catch public transport by herself, she made it her mission to find me. I love that kid.... Hey, she's showing some of her art in a few weeks. Do you want to come with me to the exhibition? I'd love for the terrible Titians to meet."

"Terrible Titians?" Rosemonde burst out laughing at that description before answering: "I'd like that very much."

Myrddin leaned across the table and gently touched her cheek. Oh my! Is he going to kiss me again? Rosemonde's phone buzzed and the moment was gone. She frowned and bit her lip.

"Everything alright?" Myrddin asked.

"I'm not sure. That was a text from Summer's boss, asking if I'd seen her. She hasn't turned up for work and she didn't call in sick."

A/N
Chapter Header - detail of Titian's Woman with a mirror. www.titian.org