[Frederic's face screws up a bit, lips pressing tight and something of a flash of irritation crossing his face before it fades. He wants to be angry at the accusation, but speaking about it out loud for once makes him doubt his own words rather quickly.]

... the world that Polka and the others came from... for a long time while I was there, I was convinced I was dreaming. That, in the last moments of my life in Paris, France, I created a world to escape the pain of my condition.

It crossed my mind once, that Polka being so similar to Emilia was not mere coincidence.