by Auriane Bell
In our wedding night I had managed to put the blame of Magdala’s behaviour on the fact that she had hardly known me. Soon it became clear to me though, that there was something else behind it and I cautiously asked her former mother in law about my young wife. The old crone pretended not to know anything.”
“It was about her late husband, wasn’t it?” Adrijan guessed.
“Mhm. One night Magdala had a hysteric fit. I had never seen her shed a tear before but that night they wouldn’t stop flowing. She was hyperventilating so much that I was worried not only about her mental well-being.
Magdala claimed that she was stained and in tears kept repeating that she longed to die. She said that there was nothing that could change her mind, that she couldn’t bear the ignominy any longer and that I should rid myself of her as soon as possible. Magdala went as far as asking me to take her life but of course I had no intention of murdering my only love.
Again I held her and rocked her in my arms, continuously assuring her of my feelings and that I didn’t care about the past as long as she stayed by my side.
Although the horror remained, her tears slowly ebbed away and she started to tell me how she had been abused by her husband. He had beaten her, choked her, taken her against her will. She described to me how much she had feared the moment the corners of his mouth had dropped, how she had instinctively drawn her head between her shoulders, awaiting the next hit. Her mother in law and the servants had known about it but nobody had done anything to help her.
As she progressed with her story she started to calm down but her voice also turned cold and distant. She described every kind of pain she had endured in such a great detail that I was struck with horror. When she had still had the strength to resist she had tried to run away but he had gotten hold of her and had made her regret it dearly. Once he had broken her will to fight, she had been caught in an endless downward spiral.”
Adrijan observed Vivian take a sip of whiskey and noticed that his grip around the bottle was stronger than necessary. His knuckles showed all white.
“When there was nothing left to tell, I was the one who was shaking.
I was cursing the fact that her husband had died – only for the reason that I wanted to kill the prick myself. I wanted to watch him bleed.”
As a priest it would have deemed appropriate to explain that revenge wasn’t the right answer to violence but Adrijan understood his brother all too well. What was the point in turning the other cheek? How was it agreeable not to feel the way Vivian did?
“One more thing… “ Vivian continued. “That German prayer you seem to like – ‘Hilf, Maria, es ist Zeit…’ – I’d appreciate if you never used it again.”
“Why? It seemed to be important to Magdala.”
“Every time I hear it I imagine her cowering on the floor, whispering those words in the hope that someone would come to her rescue. I never wanted to tell you but now that you know about her past…”
Adrijan nodded. “I apologise.” He nervously cleared his throat. “Was it the reason that she saved me – her wish to die, I mean.”
“I can’t say for sure. I’ve always believed that it was perhaps an accident, that she wasn’t aware of how much of her life she would have to give to save you.
Of course she was still struggling with her past and my mother’s constant nagging about her not giving me a child didn’t improve her mood. There were also rumours, saying that I intentionally neglected my duty as a king by not even attempting to father an heir. The result was a dispute with my mother about the succession to the throne. Magdala blamed herself for it, but I do not think it was the reason for what she did.
She came to me before her death – it was the first time I had seen a smile on her face. Magdala was in every way like an angel when she told me that you were going to survive. I don’t want to believe that her only smile resulted from the fact that she knew that she was going to die.”
“Hmm. Do you think Änlin might be the one Magdala warned me about?”
“She might be… I wonder why she looks so similar to her.”
“As you know I’ve only seen Magdala for a very short time. Most of my memories have been replaced by the features of this statue. How much alike are they?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve set my eyes on Magdala. If I remember her correctly, then she wasn’t as tall as Änlin and also not as… voluptuous. But I guess you can see from this statue that they bear a striking resemblance.”
“Do you think Magdala had used the hour glass before? Could she have already been old when you married her?”
“I highly doubt that. A seven-hundred year old woman wouldn’t have let anyone marry her off.”
“Probably not,” Adrijan agreed. “Could Änlin be a relative of hers – someone who possesses another hour glass?”
Vivian laughed. “Her evil twin perhaps?”
“Uh-huh.” Adrijan raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Is there a possibility that she concealed that she had a child?”
“I think she would have told me that night. Anyway, we’ll find out in due time who Änlin is. More importantly, are you really giving Mairin to me?”
“Haven’t we already been there? Sadly there’s nothing to give. I don’t possess her and it was her decision to marry you.”
“Won’t you try to talk her out of it?”
Adrijan pulled out his phone, inserted four Japanese characters and converted the first two to a kanji before showing the display to his brother.
“Can you read this? Do you know what it means?”
Vivian moved the bottle out of the way and leant closer. He furrowed his brow as he tried to read the Japanese letters, a kanji followed by its two hiragana brethren.
“Hold your arm steady, brother,” he complained. “That’s better. Ai… shii. Ah, it’s itoshii –
beloved.”
Adrijan nodded.
“A while before even we were born it was read kanashii, meaning sad as you know. Love is full of sadness, brother.” He had made his point and put away the small device.
“To love,” Vivian said and raised his bottle.
“To love,” Adrijan repeated and did the same with his glass.
By the time Vivian had raised his bottle – and Adrijan his glass – to women, to love, to sadness and again to women, and it had already started to dawn even though the nights were still long, the master of Mondstein castle knew, that his brother had given up on Mairin. He hadn’t done so because he didn’t love her but because he thought it was best for her. For that reason alone he seemed willing to endure what was going to come.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Vivian said in a low voice. “I won’t force her into doing anything she doesn’t want.”
Adrijan nodded. Was he even considering that marrying him wasn’t what she wanted?
“Adrijan, perhaps-“
“Let’s speak no more of her and the wedding I beg of you…” Adrijan interrupted him. “I don’t know how you’ve been able to do it over the centuries.”
“It’s enjoyable. You should try it too.”
“Marrying many young girls?”
“Oh, that’s what you were talking about.” Vivian grinned sheepishly before turning serious again. “I do it so I won’t ever forget that night. Because of that and because I wouldn’t be able to bear the responsibility for so many deaths like you do.”
“Has any of them ever had second thoughts when… it was time?” Adrijan asked hesitantly, ignoring Vivian’s words.
“No. Most were more than willing. There was the occasional-” Vivian changed his voice to make it sound more female and put the back of his free hand on his forehead, aware that he was looking ridiculously dramatic. “’Please be gentle’ or the also famous-” again he adjusted his tone “‘You mustn’t think ill of me’ followed by an assault.”
“I… see.”
Vivian was certain that it wasn’t what Adrijan had wanted to hear but it was the tr
uth after all.
“Mairin might be different,” he interjected. “Try to convince her, brother.”
“Convince her of what?”
“That you’re the right man for her.”
“I think someone has to convince me of that first.”
Vivian resigned with a sigh and shook his head. Emotionally exhausted as he often was, he put down the bottle and got up from the floor, groaning like an old man.
“I’m a wee bit sleepy. Perhaps it’s best if we take counsel with our pillows before continuing this discussion”
Adrijan nodded. “Good night, brother.”
~
Mairin sat on her bed, with the knees drawn to her body, using a book in her lap to support the beautifully designed letter paper.
“Dear Renga,” she wrote.
Therry clumsily made his way over the mattress, moving his tail to keep his balance as his long legs sank into the duvet. With a sigh she crossed out the words to start from the beginning, feeling regret for having to waste another perfectly empty sheet for this farce.
“Dearest sister,” Again her attention was caught by Winther, who pleasurably strolled over the letter Renga had written to her. Once she had finished reading it, she had carelessly put it down on the bed and unsuccessfully tried to forget its existence.
‘I’m proud of you for fulfilling your duty towards your family,’ it had said. ‘Let me assure you of our warmest feelings and our deepest gratitude, sister.’ Ten years ago she had felt abandoned out of necessity but now…
Mairin didn’t mind the damage the kitten’s behaviour was likely to cause and observed the tomcat as he unfolded the true potential of his kitty mayhem. First he started kneading the paper, perforating it with his tiny claws and ripping out small pieces. Becoming more and more aware of her own negligence Mairin found herself in a crisis of conscience. Wasn’t it supposed to be something precious she had received from her beloved sister?
Disregarding its possible value, the kitten wasn’t satisfied yet. In his next act of feline terrorism he took a hearty bite from the letter paper, tearing away part of ‘I am certain that you will find great happiness.’ and complacently started to chew it. Mairin rolled her eyes and removed the small piece from his mouth.
“Bad boy!” she scolded him half-heartedly.
Winther looked at her as if she had praised him and Mairin had to resist to cuddle him.
“You always cheer me up, Winther,” she said in a low voice, “but after all the effort I have put into my draft I simply can’t take the risk that you ruin my eloquently written two-word-letter!”
In contrast to her own failure of correspondence, Renga had managed to write so much while saying so little. Mairin had already known that the wedding was going to be held in Mondstein castle, outside the borders of Traumstadt and that it would therefore be impossible for Renga to attend. Even the letter had only found its way to her through Vivian’s staff. Having forgotten about the way she had been treated by her sister in Sunflower Garden she had been so excited about its content. Now she wished she had never opened it.
Renga’s words continued to torment her and Mairin absent-mindedly plucked at the torn sheet, carrying on Therry’s work. What was this ‘happiness’ she had talked about? Perhaps it wasn’t right to blame Renga for putting herself first. It was certainly the most rational decision and one day, she resolved, she would learn how to do it as well.
“I am very sorry that you can’t attend the wedding,” Mairin forced herself to put to paper.
She thought of promising Renga at least a photo of the handsome groom and herself just to realise, that it wasn’t the smartest idea she had ever had to send a modern colour photo into the artificial past.
“Once it is over I will report the whole event to you in great detail to make up for it,” she continued. “It really is a shame that I can’t share this special day with you and the boys.”
This time she was laying it on thick.
Therry sneaked closer and rubbed his mouth against her pen, skilfully applying a thin layer of drool.
“You’re trying to keep me from lying, aren’t you Winther?”
The cat had managed to elicit a smile from her. He purred and repeated the procedure, as if he hadn’t bathed the writing instrument enough yet.
“Stop it, little one, you’ll make the pen blush,” Mairin complained and petted Therry’s head.
A sneeze coming from the stairs suddenly forced her cute companion into a strategic withdrawal.
“Miss Muriel?” It was Hilda’s voice.
“Coming!” Mairin hastily went to the stairs, trying to minimize her maid’s suffering.
“What is it Hilda?”
“Miss von Kirchberg has sent me to deliver her invitation to tea, Miss.”
“Tea? Now?” Mairin turned to look at Therry, who was hiding between the pillows of her bed in a manner it was ridiculously obvious. Considering the approaching wedding and the dark thoughts that had arisen by the reason of her upcoming sacrifice, she was in the mood to hide as well. She had already been looking forward to spending some time with the cat in twosome solitude after finishing the dreadful letter business.
“I’ll fetch Corinne to look after the little dev-… the little angel, Miss! You don’t have to worry about a thing. She has been pestering me about it all day and I’m certain she will be delighted!”
Apparently Hilda had misunderstood.
“Thank you, Hilda. Will you bring me to Miss von Kirchberg then?”
The maid clumsily curtsied in the narrow staircase and turned around. Mairin used the chance to smooth her dress and comb her hair with her fingers. Except for the day the strange woman had talked to Vivian in Sunflower Garden she hadn’t been able to set eyes on her. Why had she agreed to go to war this unprepared?
Adrijan stretched. He felt revived – physically at least – after spending the whole morning swimming several laps in the indoor pool of Mondstein castle. Curiously not even the dampness of that place had been able to hold against Vivian’s riches. Perhaps nothing could. He was still disturbed that Renga had told him in a roundabout way to leave Mairin alone when he had gone to pick up her letter. Were his feelings that obvious?
“The ring, Ade. Adrijan? Did you get the ring?” his brother asked.
They were sitting in Vivian’s favourite part of the library in front of the fireplace, discussing the wedding preparations. Adrijan had repeatedly been caught being absent-minded and again he had to force himself to continue his work.
“Er…. the ring. I’ve commissioned it. It will be ready for the wedding next week.”
“The same design as usual I presume?”
“No, I took the liberty of choosing one that will go well with the necklace Mairin has inherited from her mother.”
“Her mother’s necklace,” Vivian repeated overly serious. “I see.”
“Would you prefer the standard design with the tiny replica of the hour glass?”
“No, it’s fine Adrijan. It’s just that-“
“Brother,” he groaned. Why didn’t he give up?
“Mhm, mhm… what else is on the list?”
“In addition to the music ensemble for the processional song I’ve invited the Vienna Philharmonic to play for the wedding. The dress fitting will be tomorrow – I hope Mairin will be able to make a choice soon so we can finish in time. I’ve entitled Alfred with the entire decoration of the grand hall. Hm… let’s see…”
“Cake! What about the cake?”
“Designed and ordered. It will be delivered on the day of the wedding. The catering has been discussed with the kitchen staff.”
“Guests?”
“Well… “
“Ah, right. No guests. The orchestra will do.”
“Perhaps Änlin and her daughter Engelin will attend if you invite them.”
“Good thinking. The little one could do as a bridesmaid.”
“Actually Hilda has begged me to let her be a bridesma
id.”
“Then we’ll have two. Or perhaps we should ask some of the other maids as well,” Vivian suggested. “The more the merrier.”
Adrijan frowned. “I guess it serves the initial idea of confusing evil spirits and keeping them away from the real bride,” he muttered.
Vivian shrugged. “What about the priest?”
Adrijan raised his hand. “Present.”
“Are you certain you-?”
“Viv…” he warned him.
“Alright, alright. Of course there’s nobody I’d prefer over you to do the job.”
“Good. I’ve asked Alfred to be the person to give the bride away.”
“Did he agree?”
“I’m very honoured, Sir. I will do my utmost to support Miss Muriel on this special occasion, Sir,” Adrijan mimicked his manservant. To his surprise the old man had not seemed delighted about the upcoming wedding. Perhaps it was due to the amount of work that was related to it.
Vivian grinned. “Sounds like everything is ready. Good job, frater.”
“Actually… there’s one more thing.”
“Hm?”
Adrijan took a deep breath.
“Which bedroom should be prepared?”
“It’s too much of a coincidence.”
“Don’t be hasty, let’s-“
Hilda opened the door that had been left ajar, interrupting a conversation Mairin would have liked to overhear. Unfortunately it was too late now to hold her maid back. Despite her nervousness she entered the room with her chin raised.
“Thank you very much for the invitation, Miss von Kirchberg,” she said.
“Let’s not start like this, dear child. You must call me Änlin.”
Mairin raised her eyebrows. The only child present was certainly the small girl who stood in the corner of the ‘peach room’ with her arms akimbo.
“May I introduce you to my daughter Engelin?”
“Hello, Engelin,” Mairin said, putting on a smile.
The girl didn’t bother to greet her.
