by Auriane Bell
“Special, hm?” Mairin laughed. “We’ll see about that!”
“Don’t tease me, princess,” he demanded grimly, feigning annoyance and grabbing her hand. This time he was dressed in a trabea, a purple toga that in ancient times had been worn only by Roman emperors. Had it been worn by someone else, he would’ve looked ridiculous, but Vivian simply looked stunning.
Like every day for the past weeks, Mairin was wearing a matching outfit he had prepared for her. In the beginning she had felt silly and had thought it tedious but after a short time she had started to enjoy the daily ritual. Before she knew it she had found herself looking forward to discovering Vivian in a new outfit and had been disappointed when he had once or twice shown up to a lesson in his regular clothes. One day she had been dressed like a medieval queen, the next like a tsarevna, a Russian princess. Today he had chosen a Roman theme and her clothes consisted out of an under tunic, a stola – a pleated dress that ended a few centimetres above the floor and the palla – a long shawl.
“Come, come!”
Vivian left the library, pulling her after him and Mairin had difficulties to keep up with her guide without tripping over her own feet.
“Can’t we slow down, oh great emperor?” Mairin teased him, resisting his pull.
“Just call me Caesar, principessa,” he answered in an alluring voice and followed her wish.
“Breaking the rules and switching to Italian, are we?”
“Would you prefer being called princeps?”
Mairin dismissed his suggestion, waving with her free hand.
“I’ll let it pass, just this once!”
“As you wish, principessa.”
Vivian’s smile and good mood were contagious. Mairin preferred it to the dark and lonely nights when she was pondering about why Adrijan avoided her. When they had randomly met in the hallways he had never presented her with more than a nod or a simple greeting and on the rare occasions when the three of them had dined together he had refrained from talking to her.
“Is it far, Caesar?”
“The entrance is within the castle, principessa.”
“So… how many hours will it take us to get there?” Mairin tried to push away her bad thoughts with more silliness. Instead of answering though, Vivian just picked her up and started running, holding her close to him.
“You’re crazy! Absolutely crazy!” she gasped, holding fast onto him.
“Aren’t we forgetting something, principessa?” he asked, dangerously loosening his grip.
“You’re crazy, Caesar!” she said laughing and as a reward he held her firmly again.
When they reached the top of the stairs Vivian put her down and started descending without waiting for her. Mairin followed him driven by her own curiosity and after a plethora of stairs and corridors they reached their destination, a massive gate, crowned by an inscription of tall letters.
“Quem di diligunt adulescens moritur,” Mairin read. “He whom the gods love… dies young?”
Vivian nodded smiling faintly and entered a code word on the electronic lock.
“So what’s the password, Ceasar?” Mairin asked cheekily, trying to save the mood.
“I’m not telling!”
“It must be your date of birth then!” Mairin proclaimed, having remembered that Vivian had told her never to use her own as a password.
“Pity almost nobody knows, eh?”
Mairin unbelievingly stared at his big grin.
“It must be… July 13th 100 B.C.!”
“Oi, do you really think I’m that old? I was born in…” Vivian paused. “Nice try!”
The immortal smirked and slipped through the now open door, beckoning her to follow. Absolute darkness was lying in wait before them, only held at bay by the light that was coming in through the gate.
At this intimidating sight Mairin’s playful mood faded. Vivian casually picked up a torch and lit it.
“Let’s go, we still have some walking to do.”
Vivian was aware that Mairin had taken a liking to him. After all, he had put a tremendous amount of effort into gaining her trust and now he was finally starting to be able to enjoy the fruits of his labour. Soon he would enlighten her about the bride’s true purpose, but first he would take her to the ‘Sanctuary’ as he called it. The pathway to it was ancient and had long ago served as a secret passage to the castle chapel. Decay had made it necessary to renovate parts of the tunnel but apart from the handful of workers, there were only few people who knew about its existence.
Mairin nervously followed him. Her change of mood hadn’t gone unnoticed. Deep down Vivian was amused by how easy it was to read her.
“Don’t be frightened, principessa,” he whispered. “Isn’t it romantic?”
“A long dark tunnel, and my guide carrying the only light available being a delusional man who claims to be immortal? I think not,” she mumbled sternly. “God knows, the gate behind us may already be locked again as well.”
Vivian chuckled. “I should hope so, principessa.”
It was cool down here and he realised that he had probably chosen the wrong clothing for the trip. At least it would be warm once they had returned to the surface.
After a short walk they arrived at the elevator and together they climbed into the cage that would carry them up to the ‘Sanctuary’.
“Let’s ascend to paradise,” he said and turned on the mechanism.
At first she was blinded by the brightness of the winter garden. While her eyes were still getting used to the different light and the world was regaining its colours and contrast, she noticed the woman in front of her, welcoming her with open arms. Instinctively she tried to shy back, but then she realised how foolish she had been. With her mouth agape she gazed at the masterwork of a statue. It represented a petite woman with long flowing hair and a smile that could quite possibly have ended a war. Who in the Lord’s name was this beauty?
“Magdala,” Vivian whispered next to her.
Mairin had thought to have seen the true face of the master of Mondstein castle before, but having heard his voice bearing warmth as well as sadness and observing him pensively gazing at the woman, she simply knew she had been mistaken. Vivian recovered quickly, granting her only a glimpse.
“Magdala?”
“My first bride,” he said, making it sound like she had been his only bride.
“She was… very pretty,” Mairin forced herself to say.
Vivian smiled and led her further into the winter garden that was almost completely out of glass. It was the home of numerous statues that shared the vast room with a considerable amount of plants. Through the transparent walls Mairin was able look outside and what she saw made her wonder if the winter garden was at a glade in the forest surrounding Mondstein castle. The floor around the building was covered with snow, but it was pleasantly warm and the snowflakes that landed on the see-through roof melted away before they could gain a foothold.
As they continued walking, Mairin kept randomly pointing at the lifelike statues, asking for names. Vivian patiently gave her answers.
“Agnes…”
“Maria…”
“Emilia…”
“Maria…”
Mairin frowned. Obviously the brides hadn’t been chosen for their unique names.
Even if she couldn’t suppress a trace of jealousy, she was glad to see that Vivian was able to remember their names. He wouldn’t have memorized them, if the young women hadn’t meant anything to him. Still, the amount of statues in this hall as well as their true to life features unsettled her a little.
“Were all of these girls your brides?”
“Mhm…”
“None of them were actually turned into stone, right? This isn’t what I’m here for, is it?” she asked jokingly.
“No, sciocca principessa!” Vivian scolded her playfully, gently patting her head. “But if you decide to become mine, you will be remembered here among them forever.”
Ma
irin ducked her head between her shoulders trying to evade his touch and lowered her gaze, fighting the old pattern of distrust. Why did it sound to her as if accepting his offer meant at the same time to accept death? The thought of a statue of her likeness resting here for all eternity when she had already turned to dust didn’t bring her much relief.
This time Mairin felt that her mood had irreversibly changed for the worse and she silently followed the immortal to one end of the winter garden where he sat down in front of a white grand piano.
“Make yourself comfortable, principessa.”
Vivian’s gesture invited her to the nearby pillow that was large enough to lie on. Mairin was aware that it would’ve been normal to be overwhelmed by the magnificence of the instrument and the romantic setting of the winter garden, yet her thoughts kept wandering back to the statues. Though most of the women had been pretty, none of the brides had been able to compare to the lovely, angelic Magdala. Had Vivian ever loved somebody else than her? Mairin sat down as she had been instructed, cowering under the burden of her inner turmoil. Would she feel so small and redundant if Adrijan had stayed by her side?
“Mairin?”
“Mhm?” Mairin startled up from her thoughts realising that she hadn’t been listening.
“Lie down and relax.”
“Mhm.”
Usually hearing such words would have made her warning bells ring, but after having gotten closer to Vivian over the past few weeks – and due to the fact that he remained seated at the piano – she didn’t see herself in imminent danger. By the time he started to play, she had already lain down and put one of her arms under her head to use it as a headrest.
Vivian’s piano playing was expressive and Mairin was wondering if there was anything he didn’t excel at. As his fingers ran over the keys, eliciting the instrument a beautiful melody, she was reminded of the gentle purling of a creek and through the roof she watched the snowflakes dance to the melancholic tune until the last note lapsed into silence.
“Can you sing?”
Mairin automatically shook her head.
“Not very well. My art teacher said I was a hopeless case.”
Vivian had been instructing her over the past weeks and had to have found out that she was far from perfect, but at the moment she was embarrassed having to admit her inability so bluntly.
“Have you learnt to play any instruments?”
Again she shook her head. “The only option Miss Rogelle gave me was to learn how to play the transverse flute and I’ve always thought I didn’t want to do anything that required me to deform my mouth in such an ugly way.”
Vivian rocked with laughter. “A good choice, principessa. But I’ll have to ask you to sing for me. It doesn’t matter if you’re not good at it yet, I’m certain you’ll be able to improve under my guidance.”
Mairin sat up to be able to look at Vivian. His self-confidence was remarkable.
“Is that really necessary?”
“Of course, principessa. I’m dying to hear you sing, and you wouldn’t refuse the wish of a dying man, would you?”
Mairin knitted her brow upon his twisting of words.
“Why do I have to be able to sing?”
“Well, imagine you took a shower in my bathroom and you ended up singing there…”
“What if I promised never to sing in your shower?” She wasn’t willing to give in just yet.
“That won’t do.”
Mairin sighed. By now she knew that Vivian’s stubbornness wasn’t something that could be easily overcome, but perhaps there was a chance of using his play instinct against him, so he would agree to make a bet.
“Let’s make a wager then,” Mairin suggested. “If you manage to bring Adrijan to come here within the next half-hour to make music with you and sing for us afterwards, I shall follow your wish. But if he doesn’t fulfil the requirements, there won’t be any music lessons for as long as I desire.”
Vivian smiled. He seemed to be considering her offer.
“Oh, I like that,” he finally replied. “But let’s add something. If he really does show up, you’ll let me teach you how to sing and …”
“And?”
“How about a kiss?”
Mairin gulped. It was one thing to wager singing lessons, but something wholly different to wager her first kiss. She wasn’t certain if Vivian was really as confident to win the bet as he seemed but before he had raised the stakes, she could’ve sworn that it was impossible for her to lose. What had been the odds that master and servant could play music together? Despite her new awoken doubts Mairin was too proud to take back her words and decided to agree to the additional condition.
“Fine,” she said firmly. After all Adrijan would still have to arrive in time and maybe Vivian was overestimating his capabilities. Mairin expected the immortal to immediately head back to fetch his servant, but instead he reached into his pocket and produced his mobile phone. How could she have been so silly as to forget about that particular device? Even though the prospects looked bleak, perhaps there was still hope and Adrijan wouldn’t answer his phone.
“Adrijan? Are you busy?” Vivian’s voice sounded boyishly cheerful.
Mairin heaved a sigh.
“My lovely bride requested that we play some music for her and that you sing a song.”
What would his reply be? Did he even have the choice to reject the immortal’s wishes? And shouldn’t Vivian at least mention the wager?
“Oh, no. No special reason at all. How about Beethoven’s Spring Sonata?”
Vivian’s words that indicated that she was about to lose the bet made her feel dizzy.
“Alright! I’ll prepare the violin and the guitar for you. Oh and hurry! You only have thirty minutes or there won’t be a reward.”
Mairin dejectedly watched Vivian end the call and put away his phone.
“What did he say?” she heard herself ask.
On some occasions, when he wasn’t reminded of starving children and innocent animals dying in the streets, of plagues, and disasters – caused by mankind or not – senseless torture, and massacre and everything else on the list of undeserved pain – on some occasions, he thought that God might truly exist. Who else was the mysterious puppeteer that liked to pull the strings at the very moment one decided to give up? It had to be God in all his miserly benevolence.
Adrijan had been discussing his departure with Alfred when the immortal had called and now he was waiting for his servant to exit the kitchen with the tray of refreshments he had insisted on taking along. Once again he nervously pulled out his phone and looked at the watch. He had repeated the process over and over without ever taking proper notice of what time it was. Why had Mairin asked for his presence? And what was the reward Vivian had mentioned? It was difficult to be looking forward to seeing Mairin again when he couldn’t force himself to stop suspecting an unpleasant surprise behind the unexpected meeting.
When Adrijan decided that Alfred had taken long enough and opened the kitchen door to remind his servant of the time limit, the elderly man stood in front of him with a loaded tray.
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Sir,” he said, indicating a bow with his head.
It seemed that Vivian was capable of playing the violin and the guitar as well. Mairin closely observed him while he tuned the instruments he had retrieved from a closet. She was wondering how much time had passed since the phone call and she had soon realised that not having a watch had been one of the minor flaws she had overlooked when making the bet.
“Still fifteen minutes left.”
The satisfied smile on Vivian’s face aggravated her.
“I wasn’t-“ Mairin stopped in midsentence seeing that his smile had just broadened.
The immortal moved to the next guitar string. “Do you wish to cancel the bet, principessa?”
Mairin’s heart skipped a beat. Was that really an option? Perhaps the worst could yet be avoided if she just gave up a bit of her pride. Before
she could make up her mind, the stream of her excited thoughts that even blocked out the sound Vivian produced by tuning the instruments, was interrupted.
“Oh, I’m just wondering. The reward is far too promising to let you off the hook that easily!”
Mairin angrily sank back on the pillow and started the unaccomplishable task of counting the snowflakes that were descending to the roof above her.
Magdala’s welcome further increased the unpleasant feeling that had already continued to grow within him on the way to the ‘Sanctuary’. Perhaps nervousness about having to play the violin or singing in front of Mairin was part of it, but it was definitely the considerably smaller part. Adrijan approached the end of the winter garden where he was already awaited by Vivian and his bride. Mairin was sitting on the pillow bed dressed like a Roman goddess. He reluctantly noticed her slightly dishevelled hair and the sheets that were in disarray. Had they called him to announce their wedding? Was Vivian trying to make fun of him?
“Ah, finally!” his brother welcomed him.
“We brought refreshments,” Adrijan stated helplessly and Alfred, ever the devoted servant, walked past him carrying the tray. Mairin seemed to be upset, but he couldn’t tell whether she was nervous or annoyed. When their eyes met, she didn’t react, giving him the feeling that his presence wasn’t truly appreciated.
Setting aside the mood her behaviour induced, Adrijan joined his brother at the grand piano and picked up the Stradivari. He had played it many times before but it still felt special just to hold it in his hands.
“Will part of the Spring Sonata be enough?” he asked Vivian in a low voice. “It’s been a while.”
Vivian nodded. “But keep your voice down,” he replied with a grin.
Then they started to play.
Vivian watched the girl with satisfaction. At first she had obviously been disappointed to lose the bet but once they had started to play she seemed to have forgotten all about it. The expression on Mairin’s face had changed and was now as sweet as it was priceless. It showed that she was absolutely absorbed by the music and even more so by Adrijan. Her eyes eagerly followed the movements of his hand that skilfully guided the bow over the strings. The only thing Vivian regretted was, that his brother didn’t take notice of it. Still, it wasn’t over yet. Once he had been given the chance, he had grasped it and prepared this stage for Adrijan. If everyone lived up to their part in the play, they would encounter a surprise before the final curtain call. Of course he was gambling but regardless of the outcome, the act was deliciously entertaining.