Kingdom of Ash and Soot

by C. S. Johnson

  “That’s wonderful,” I said. “I’m looking forward to hearing the news tonight.”

  “It’s mostly about politics now,” Faye said, “since the Diets are in session. But Christmas is coming, so we might have something more religious, too.”

  “Most of the people in here are Jewish,” I said. “Why do they want to hear about Christmas?”

  “There are plenty of Jews here,” Faye said. “But my father has friends who work as artists and writers who come in to hear the political and cultural commentary. And Elie studied law before he went into business. With his political analysis and Dad’s cultural insight, there are plenty of Christians who come to hear them. As it should be. It’s not good for people to focus on the little things that they forget about the greater calling around us.”

  “And they do this every week?”

  Faye nodded. “Maybe one day politics will be so engrossing that there will need to be daily meetings, but so far politics is just a small sliver of our lives.”

  “So, folks, let’s begin,” Eliezer called. “Thanks to the end of the American Civil War, it seems that there is chance that republics will become more commonplace among the nations of the future. This could be either good or bad for Bohemia, but likely there will be a lot of good and bad that comes with this. As the Americans have proven in the last five years, revolutions are not bloodless, and settling disputes can take generations.”

  Over the next hour, Eliezer continued to talk about the life of empires, and how the Bohemian people were recklessly embracing nationalism at the oppression of the German Diet; Clavan talked about art and freedom, and the struggle for beauty despite the ugliness of the battle. Even Jarl, an artist of sorts when he was not at his job, chimed in with insights and occasionally insults.

  Ben was mesmerized by Eliezer, as he began talking about a shipment of wine that, somehow, had exploded on its way from Hradiště, a small town in Moravia. When Ben called out a question, Eliezer answered him, never losing any of his enthusiam.

  I was about to congratulate Ben when I looked over and saw Ferdy, who was just staring at me.

  I stared back, trying to silently remind him to pay attention.

  He gave me a smirk and turned back to watch Eliezer and Clavan discuss the failure of the Minister-President to bring the German and Bohemian Diets to any meaningful compromise or agreement regarding regional transportation laws. But not even a moment later, Ferdy took hold of my hand.

  And I let him.

  There was no hesitation in me as I laced my fingers with his under the table.

  After that, it was difficult to remember the rest of the meeting. The heat of our hands distracted me; excitement ran through my whole body, and I kept reminding myself not to blush as the discussion continued.

  Eventually I gave up, deciding I would ask Faye if she would have a pamphlet sent to my house so I could hear what I missed.

  Sitting here and holding hands with Ferdy was a relief my heart never seemed to know it needed. I thought of how intently Karl had looked at me while we danced and talked, remembering how I had wondered how someone could be so sure of wanting another so quickly.

  But here I was, sitting here, slowly but surely allowing myself closer to someone I had really only met, someone who was a mystery and an adventure, a jokester by all accounts and a liar by his own.

  When Clavan finished a reading from Wordsworth’s Lyrical Ballads, discussing Edmund Burke’s influence, and mentioning a slew of other names I did not recognize, the crowd clapped.

  Ferdy and I exchanged a secret glance before he let me go, and we both clapped along with the rest of the crowd.

  “That was brilliant,” Ben whispered to me, almost making me jump. I had nearly forgotten he was there with me.

  “Yes,” I hastily agreed. “It was.”

  “I can see why you wanted to come. I’m not sure if there’s anything that will help us, but it is good to be informed of local sentiments.”

  “Maybe we can ask for specific details. It’s better we ask in secret anyway.”

  Ben leaned closer to me. “You go and try then. You know Clavan better than I do.”

  “Was there something you wanted, Ella?” Ferdy asked. “Or you, Ben?”

  “Nothing,” Ben and I said at the same time. When Ferdy arched his brow at us, I took a drink and smiled up at him. “I was just wondering if Mr. Clavan would give me another beer.”

  “Oh. Of course. He’s already gone back to manning the bar,” Ferdy said. “Maybe tell him to bring a cup of coffee here to Jarl. He looks tired.”

  “I’m not tired,” Jarl objected. “I’ve been working all day, not running around the streets like you.”

  “See, I would think that work would make you tired,” Ferdy said. “Running around the streets means I can take breaks. From the sound of it, you also have to fight off some jealousy, since you can’t come and join me.”

  As Ferdy and Jarl continued to argue the semantics of a full day’s work, I slipped away and stepped up to the bar.

  Clavan came up beside me, already pouring me a new drink. “Well, Lady Ella, what did you think?”

  “I loved it,” I said, trying not to let him see I had been distracted through most of it. “I especially thought your reading was wonderful.”

  “Well, as you know, Wordsworth is a favorite of mine,” Clavan said. “Maybe next time I’ll read something from The Prelude.”

  “Can I ask you a question about something else?”

  “It seems you already have.” He picked up a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a small shot. “What is your question?”

  “Ferdy mentioned that you know everything about Prague,” I said. “Is that true?”

  “It depends, not on me, but on my information.” He gave me a roguish grin. “What do you want to know?”

  “I was wondering if you had heard rumors about King Ferdinand and Empress Maria Anna having a son,” I said. I kept my gaze on his face, watching as his eyes shifted from interested to wary and then back to speculative.

  “A son?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I frowned, wondering if he was trying to buy some time to respond. He seemed strangely uncomfortable all of a sudden. “You know something, don’t you?”

  “There were whispers of the Empress and King having a son a long time ago, back in the 1850s,” he said quietly. “So I would not be surprised to see if it were true.”

  I nodded. “I was wondering, with the Nationalists fighting with the other parties, if they were trying to reinstate the monarchy.”

  “On the surface, it would seem like a good goal for them,” Clavan said, “but the people like having power. That was proven in ’67, when the Emperor reorganized the Minister-President’s office. The Bohemian Diet is here to stay, even with a new monarch and a new governmental structure.”

  “Even if it’s constantly deadlocked by the German Diet?” I asked, unable to stop myself from glancing at Jarl. It was strange to see a German getting along with so many Bohemians, and even more to hear him discuss the growing economy in Prague, now that the Diets were moving onto other matters in their sessions.

  “Most certainly. The Nationalists would gain nothing,” Clavan said. “And the other parties, and the Minister-President, might agree with a new king like that in the short-term. But in the long-term, it would fail.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “The Nationalists are happy with the progress they’ve made, even if it is small. The other main parties are not as happy, but they are learning how to use the system to gain more power.”

  “So no one would like it if there was a new king on the throne of Bohemia.”

  “Not long enough for it to matter.” Clavan shook his head. “The Revolution of 1848 brought an end to that line’s power. Even if it were true, he would need to be elected to the throne now, and even that would take a large disaster to set in motion.”

  “But if the king’s son wanted to get elected to the
throne,” I mused, “he would need the votes.”

  “For starters. He would also likely need a full-scale disaster, or an act of war from the Emperor himself, in order to make his argument.” Clavan shook his head. “I don’t see Franz Joseph allowing that to happen. He has his weaknesses as a ruler, but he is smart and sharp when he needs to be.”

  I nodded and took another sip of beer.

  “Why so interested in the topic?” Clavan asked.

  I looked at him, and then back at Ferdy and Ben as they struggled through an arm-wrestling match. “I heard the rumors while I was out at a party,” I lied. “I thought, perhaps in light of the murders of Dr. Artha and the others, something was going on.”

  Clavan said nothing for a long moment. And then he took another swig of his whiskey, draining the small cup before refilling it. “It’s strange that you did hear such rumors. Most who talk of that particular nature end up dead.”

  “Really?” My eyes went wide. “Why aren’t you, then?”

  “I only listen to those rumors.” He took another drink of whiskey and gave me a small smile. “I don’t report on them. Officially.”

  “I did enjoy the reports. Eliezer is a good lawyer, from the sound of it,” I said, switching topics. “I enjoyed his analysis of the Diets and Bohemia politics, especially in light of events happening around the country.”

  “He’s my brother in all but blood.” Clavan nodded toward Faye and Jarl. “And that will be my son, after my daughter marries him next year. He’s a knucklehead with charm. Not unlike your own admirer.”

  “I’ve noticed,” I said.

  “Ferdy’s good at moving when he has to,” Clavan said. “Which is why I will tell you, when he gets your brother to argue with Jarl over something inconsequential, he will slip away to see if you want to go on a walk with him.”

  I glanced back to see Ferdy was still watching me.

  “If you like him, go with him,” Clavan said. “Jarl takes Faye down by the Vltava and I’ve been assured by Helen I don’t have to worry. And seeing how your brother watches over you, you won’t have too much time alone with Ferdy.”

  I laughed. “I’ll be surprised if he manages that,” I said. “Ben is pretty smart—”

  Before I could assure Clavan that Ben would not fall for such tricks, Ferdy was suddenly standing directly beside me, close enough I could feel the warmth of his body. “Ella,” he said, “I hope Clavan here isn’t boring you.”

  “I certainly am,” Clavan said with a small chuckle. “Ah, I see Hermann Kavka has arrived. I have business I want to discuss with him. Excuse me.”

  As he had predicted, or warned, I was left alone with Ferdy.

  “You aren’t going to seriously ask me to go on a walk, are you?” I looked back to see Clavan pull Helen into a quick twirl as she came out from the kitchen, before greeting a robust man at the other end of the bar. “Mr. Clavan already warned me.”

  Ferdy laughed. “Of course not,” he said. “I’m here to rescue you. If that involves walking outside for a little while, that’s not the same thing.”

  “I don’t exactly need to be rescued,” I pointed out.

  “If you don’t exactly need to be rescued, and I’m not exactly rescuing you, then you can come with me for a few moments.” Ferdy offered me his arm. Seemingly sensing my hesitation, he stilled, waiting for me with a gentle expectancy on his face.

  After only a second’s worth of uncertainty, and seeing Faye was now battling with Ben and Jarl as they discussed values and the finer points of the news, I laughed. “Maybe I need more rescuing than I thought.”

  “At this point, you would be rescuing both of us, Ella.” Ferdy grinned.

  *18*

  ◊

  Winter was only a few weeks away, and I felt the chill in the night as we stepped into the small alleyway behind the Cabal.

  “Well?” Ferdy asked. “What do you think? You can see why I come here.”

  “You were right,” I said. “It’s fun, even if it is a little more than I am used to. It’s almost like going to school, I imagine.”

  “Oh, Eliezer would love to hear that. Keeping up with him as he talks is more than half the battle, but we love him for it.” Ferdy wrapped my hand more tightly in his, pulling it into his coat as he led me down the alleyway.

  “Are we headed toward the Vltava?” I asked.

  “We can go anywhere you’d like,” Ferdy assured me. “I’m just happy to be with you.”

  I thought of Karl once more, and I decided if I could be blunt with anyone, it was Ferdy. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “What is so special about me?” I asked. “Do I look that different in my usual clothes, without the gown and dancing slippers?”

  “It’s not that.” Ferdy playfully batted at my bonnet. “You’re beautiful no matter what you wear. I’ve been waiting for another chance to be alone with you again.”

  I laughed. “I can’t imagine why.”

  “Can’t you?”

  He stopped in front of me, and I went silent as I met his gaze.

  It was just like before, I thought, remembering those stolen moments at the Hohenwart Ball.

  It was just like before, only everything felt even more vivid. The warmth between us, and the coldness of the wintery world around us; the dark of the night, and the light of the stars; the comradery of the pub beside us, and the world only we shared before us.

  “I believe I made a promise last time,” Ferdy said, “to get you to admit you wanted to kiss me.”

  Terror and hope, that odd combination of emotion and feelings I always felt when it came to Ferdy—all of it leapt at me at once, and I took a moment to enjoy the rush before the inevitable hesitation came rushing in.

  “Mr. Clavan told me that you would do this,” I said, pulling my hand free and crossing my arms. “So I assume you’ve done this before, possibly more than once. And I don’t know you very well. After all, I just met you.”

  Ferdy did not step back from my objection. “That is a fallacy, you know. Time never plays as much a factor as people think when it comes to situations like this.” He met my gaze in the moonlight, and I felt vulnerable and exposed.

  “Like this?” I stiffened, and he continued.

  “Haven’t you heard the tales of love at first sight? The stories of friendships that suddenly turned into love?”

  “I have. But those are just stories. Things like that don't happen in real life.”

  “There is no such thing as ‘just stories,’” Ferdy said. “Behind each story is truth, feeling, and experience.” His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Just as the magic of a kiss is not in the kiss itself, but in the heart behind it.”

  “You just met me,” I insisted, but my inner resolve was crumbling. There was something inside of me that wanted to respond to him, something that wanted to believe his words—and something that already agreed with him.

  “No,” Ferdy said. “I did not just meet you. I recognized you.”

  At his words, I felt my breathing falter. The beauty of the night fell away from me, and the last of the cold was whisked away as his hand reached out and cupped my cheek. Instinctively, I leaned into his touch. My mind was racing with incoherent thoughts, but the sound of my pounding heart drowned out any possible argument or objection.

  “How brave would you be tonight?” he asked. His silver eyes held mine, and I could not help myself from leaning into their brilliance. “Brave enough to glimpse at the heart of a man who sees into yours?”

  I thought of my mother. “I am nothing if not brave,” I whispered softly.

  “Good. I don’t think I can wait any longer to kiss you.” And then his lips pressed against mine, and what was left of my defenses shattered.

  His kiss was at first warm and soft; he tasted like freedom and fun, just a little roguish and rebellious, both dangerous and safe. Ferdy reached up and pushed back my bonnet, letting his fingers find my hair. I fell into him, unable to fully process the
pleasure running through me, as the warmth burned into searing heat.

  We fell into a desperate rhythm of kissing and being kissed, a dance as old as time itself. The strangeness of the experience transformed into a welcome rush, as my arms wrapped around him and drew him closer to me. I heard him whisper my name and I felt my knees weaken.

  It could have been hours or moments later when he finally pulled back. The chill of the night caught our heavy breathing, and I was tempted to laugh.

  Ferdy beat me to it. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise,” he said. “I’m just so happy. I can’t seem to stop myself.” He pulled me closer to him, trying to protect me from the chilly air.

  “I know,” I whispered back, unable to stop myself from winding my arms around his neck, forcing our bodies even closer. “I know how you feel.”

  He kissed my cheek before I curled into the crook of his shoulder. “You’ve always been kind,” he whispered. “Tough, but kind. I’m glad you understand.”

  “I do, even if I don’t.” I leaned over and kissed him again.

  I could not explain it. I could not explain why I was so drawn to him. I did not know him well, even after glimpsing at his heart. He was flippant but serious, teasing but friendly. He was caring in a way that made perfect sense, even if it seemed selfish. He was insightful and astute, always polite even as he was passionate. He knew me for who I was, not what I was nor how much money I had or how much beauty I displayed.

  I attempted to think through everything, but I knew the individual reasons were not enough to account for the reality. It was terrifying but freeing, and I desperately wanted to embrace freedom.

  Ferdy pulled back from me. “I was right, then?” he asked, his voice too husky to take as one of his usual taunts. “You did want to kiss me.”

  I had to drag myself away from him in order to reply. “Absolument,” I murmured, teasing him back.

  “Now all I have to do is get you to admit you love me,” Ferdy said with another laugh.

  At his words, I went still, staring at him for a long moment. My hands brushed against his cheeks, feeling the small stubble on them. I was enthralled and elated, and the heat between us added an edge to every emotion I could process. “You admitted you wanted to kiss me first. Maybe that strategy will work again.”