by H J Peterson
“To hell with my father’s opinion,” Friedrich said, putting on a brave face. In all honesty, Katalin was not the only one who cared far too much about what Dieter Eltz thought. “I love you, and most of my family loves you; the opinions of four people outweigh the opinions of one wrong man.”
Katalin smiled at that, but both of them knew the truth: the one person in his family who didn’t like her was his father, the head of his house and one of the most powerful men in the country. If the two of them got married without his approval, his father would give his inheritance to his cousin Rudy and cut him off. They needed to get into his good graces, or they wouldn’t be able to get married.
Friedrich was hoping that night might help him do just that.
When they got to the top of the staircase, they went through a set of grand doors across from the entrance to the theater. What sat beyond those doors was a long, ornate room where all the nobles in the city chatted and plotted with one another before the starts, during intermissions, and at the end of operas. A small, string orchestra was set up on one side of the room, while a full bar served drinks to everyone on the other side. Friedrich remembered spending a good while just staring at everything when he first came to the opera as a child, but he didn’t, that night. Instead, he scanned the faces around him, looking for his parents.
It didn’t exactly take long: his father was, after all, standing in his usual spot with his mother and another couple that looked to be the heads of one of their allied houses, House Dankopf.
Friedrich took a deep breath in order to calm himself down. It was sad; what other person in the world had to mentally prepare himself or herself to be in the presence of their father?
Viktoria Totefels, Friedrich’s mother, smiled warmly when she saw her son and his friend coming towards them. She was wearing a dress the color of lilacs that night, along with her mother’s pearl necklace and earrings. It was odd to think of his mother that way, but… well, she was still quite pretty, despite her age.
“It’s so good of you to join us,” Viktoria said warmly as Friedrich and Katalin approached the group.
His father shot him a disdainful look as Viktoria hugged him. As always, he was wearing a dress shirt and suit jacket with only one sleeve, which allowed him to show off the symbol of his being a war hero: a massive mechanical arm, one that started at the shoulder and was engraved with all sorts of intricate designs, including the motto of his military unit and the family crest.
“Katalin, you look absolutely wonderful this evening,” Viktoria said to Katalin as she embraced her. “It’s no wonder Friedrich has fallen head-over-heels for you.”
Viktoria, Katalin and Lady Helene von Strauss began chatting with each other, leaving Friedrich to the vultures that were Dieter Eltz and Werner Dankopf, Lady von Strauss’ husband. Both of them looked annoyed at his presence, a fact that did very little to help his resolve.
“I must say, I’m rather surprised to see you here, Friedrich,” Dankopf said. Friedrich found himself bracing for an insult; Dankopf couldn’t go very long without making fun of one of his quirks. “I was certain that you’d be back home with your nose in a book, tonight!”
Dankopf and Eltz chuckled at that, while Friedrich just sighed in annoyance. Of course, that’s what he chose to make fun of. What was it that Dunram had said in On Man and Pride? “Those who prey on the wise are but fools, themselves.” It was the story of his life.
“Well, of course not,” Friedrich said, his voice flat from trying to not seem as annoyed as he was. He grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing servant; he had a feeling that he was going to need it. “I have some promises that I need to keep to both my father and the countess.”
“You see, Lord Dankopf, when a member of my house says they’ll do something, they keep their word,” Eltz said. “An Eltz attends to their engagements, and that includes Friedrich.”
“Of course, Lord Eltz,” Dankopf said as he looked back at Friedrich. “It’s good to know that at least one of your good habits was imparted to him.”
Friedrich could feel his grip on his champagne glass grow tighter. If they were going to continue insulting him like this, he was going to join the conversation between the women; he would much rather talk gossip with those three than take insult after insult from a bumbling fool like Dankopf without any sort of defense from his father.
“So, who did you say that lovely girl you brought with you is, Friedrich?” Dankopf asked.
Friedrich was put on high alert with the mention of Katalin. So help them, if he began insulting her, he might actually demand a duel with the fat bastard.
“That’s Count Tamas von Thurzó’s daughter, Katalin,” Friedrich said. He took a sip of champagne, hoping that the liquid courage would earn its name if worst came to worst. “Her father asked me to help her get acquainted with the Vorbereicher court.”
“It runs a little deeper than that, I’m afraid,” Eltz said, sounding almost mournful about it. “My son is seriously considering courting the young woman, despite my express wishes.”
Don’t go there, Friedrich thought over and over. Don’t go there…
“Von Thurzó’s daughter, you say?” Dankopf asked. “Isn't he Magyaran?”
“I’m afraid so,” Eltz said. “While I am happy that that common girl is out of the picture, I wish he’d chosen a woman with… finer standing in the community.”
“Father, can you please not speak about Katalin like that?” Friedrich asked. However, neither Eltz nor Dankopf noticed; they’d both moved on in their conversation, completely ignoring him as his father was very fond of doing.
“I would be upset if my son decided to court a Magyaran, as well,” Dankopf said sympathetically. “She probably has him under some pagan spell as we speak so he doesn’t realize the true purpose of this little fling-“
“Please don’t speak about Katalin that way,” Friedrich said a little louder.
Both Eltz and Dankopf looked over at him, surprised.
Friedrich’s courage dissipated. What had he been thinking when he decided he would duel Dankopf if he insulted Katalin? He passed out at the sight of even a single drop of blood: he didn’t really think he could fight someone and win, did he?
Then again, he was a noble. They were all supposed to be insane, weren’t they?
“So, this Magyaran woman is that important to you?” Eltz asked with only mild disinterest. Katalin, Viktoria and Lady Helene looked over at the group of men, now. Katalin looked at him with a confused look on her face. “What are you going to do about it? Don’t tell me you’d actually try to duel him.”
Friedrich glanced over at Katalin. She had an expectant look on her face, waiting to see what he would say. Would he cower before his father, or would he stand up for himself and for her?
He put a hand on the pommel of his saber. It was only ornamental–he wasn’t even sure if it was sharp–but it was still somewhat comforting to have by his side.
“I’d duel him for it,” Friedrich said, squeezing the pommel. “I swear on my life that I’ll challenge the next man who insults Katalin.”
His father looked at him with another surprised look, as did everyone else in the group. Nobody however, was as surprised as Friedrich, himself. Had he really just done that? Had he really just stood up to Lord Dieter Eltz?
His father was going to kill him.
At least, that’s what he assumed would happen. Instead, he snorted and looked over at Dankopf. Was it just him, or did his father look satisfied?
“You heard the man, Lord Dankopf,” Eltz said. “Insulting the countess is out of the question, unless you’re willing to meet him on the dueling grounds.”
Luckily, nobody had the opportunity to say anything else about it. A bell rang, signaling to everyone in the room that they now had ten minutes to get to their seats before the opera started.
“Well, we really must be going, now,” Viktoria said. “Will we be seeing you during the intermission?”
“I should hope so,” Lady Helene said.
With that, the two families parted ways, both of them going to their respective boxes.
“You didn’t have to do that, Friedrich.” Katalin was speaking in Magyaran, now, just as she always did when she was saying something that was only for his ears. “Really; you don’t have to worry about defending my honor: that’s for my father to worry about.
“I’m sorry; I don’t know what came over me,” Friedrich lied as they walked into the room where the entrances to the theater and all the boxes were.
She cocked her head, frowning. “You bite your lip when you lie,” she said. “What is it? Is there some sort of manly code that says that you can’t discuss these things with women?”
Friedrich laughed at that; he couldn’t help it, and Katalin didn’t exactly like that.
“What are you laughing at?” She asked insistently as they got out of the stairwell on the third floor. “What did I say?”
“Would you two mind terribly if I asked you to stay in Vorbereicher for the night?” Eltz interrupted.
“Of course, Lord Eltz,” Katalin said in Vorbereicher. “My apologies.”
She turned and gave Friedrich a look. Tell me later, it said.
“Don’t get too comfortable over there, Friedrich,” Eltz warned as they entered the box. “Remember that you have to leave during the second act and meet with Lord Saaltz.”
“Lord Saaltz?” Katalin asked as the two of them sat down next to each other. “What business do you have with him?”
“Nothing that will take up too much time,” Friedrich promised as the orchestra began to tune. “I just have to go deliver a business proposition to him.”
He could tell that Katalin wanted some more clarification, but she didn’t get the chance to ask for it: the lights dimmed, and that night’s production began.
Friedrich sighed as the curtain was raised. As annoyed as he was at the fact that his father had chosen that night to get him into the family business, he was at least grateful for the opportunity to get away from this stupid display.
The opera that was being performed that night was, by far, the worst opera of them all: Donna Carlotta. In it, a Valtruscan noblewoman finds herself torn between two suitors, both of whom are very wealthy: Don Matias (the handsome one) and Don Giuseppe (the gentlemanly one). The two men fight and try to win her over, until she makes her decision: she chooses Don Matias after his grandfather died and he inherits another fortune to add to his own. Don Giuseppe is so distraught afterwards that he hangs himself on Donna Carlotta’s wedding day, but does she care? Of course not! It was absolutely ridiculous, the epitome of everything he hated about the opera.
One thing was certain about the future as far as Friedrich was concerned: when he became the head of his house, he would stop renting this frivolous box and, instead, rent a private alcove at the library.
It was almost an act of mercy when the second act came. The second Giuseppe’s love ballad started, he excused himself, promised Katalin that this would only take a few minutes, then walked out, leaving behind the garish display that some called a masterpiece.
Once he was out of the box and heading towards Lord Saaltz’s box, however, he began to grow horribly nervous. After so many years of his father trying to groom him for a leading role in the house (and after so many years of him resisting at every turn) Eltz was finally starting to hand control over to him. About a month ago, it was helping to balance the books and reading over shipping logs and manifests. Now, it was to have a quick meeting with one of his father’s business associates by himself. His father was putting himself in a leading role, now.
The question was: was he ready for it?
He forced those thoughts out of his head as he continued walking towards Lord Saaltz’s box. He couldn’t let those thoughts get him, now: he had to stay focused, before he screwed this up-
He stopped. The door to Lord Saaltz’s box was open.
Friedrich slowly approached, red flags going up in his mind. Why would he leave his door open like that? Was someone else meeting with him?
The next thing he knew, someone was shoving him against a wall as they ran down the hallway
Friedrich adjusted his suit coat as he walked into Lord Saaltz’s box, confused. Who did he think he was, running like that-
Blood.
There was a pool of blood, one that was bigger than any other one he’d seen. Lord Saaltz laid in it, his throat gashed open and bleeding terribly…
Friedrich stumbled backwards, tripping over himself in sheer terror as black dots danced in his vision and the world began to spin beneath him. So much blood, so much blood…
“H-help!” Friedrich yelled at the top of his lungs as he backed away. “Someone, please help!”
So much blood; so much blood.
He faintly remembered hearing someone calling to him, but he wasn’t sure who it was.
Friedrich passed out.
III: HIRO
Hiro Ikeda looked into her mirror, pride swelling up in her. After years and years of hard work, the moment she’d been waiting for had finally arrived. They’d released the test scores at the police academy that day, and she’d done better than she could’ve ever dreamed: top scores in the class, more than enough for her to earn the honor of becoming a police inspector. That evening was the graduation banquet, which would be attended by her classmates who’d also graduated, the chief of police, and, of course, the press. Her studies at the academy and her graduation had been closely followed by all the major newspapers in Vorbereich, and even a few from outside the country: after all, not only was she the first female police inspector to graduate from the academy, but she was also the first one of Hanjan descent to become an inspector.
That night, she was dressed in her newly tailored dress uniform: a double-breasted jacket with a high collar and simple epaulettes that covered a white dress shirt, a pair of dress slacks that were tucked into knee-high boots, a pair of leather gloves, and a saber and pistol, which were attached on opposite sides of her hips and were highly decorative: the saber wasn’t very sharp and she only had enough powder and ammunition for a couple shots for the pistol. The powder was kept in the leather holster, inside a specialized pocket suited for the task. All of it–minus the gold epaulettes and the buttons and the weapons–was black. She’d pulled her inky black hair back into a short tail, which was tied in the only feminine thing she was allowed to wear with her uniform: a red ribbon. She felt like she could take over the world in that uniform.
Hiro looked up at the picture of her father, which she’d attached to her mirror in the corner. It was from back when he was younger, when he was in the Hanjan military. He had a serious look on his face (back in Hanjai, one wasn’t allowed to smile while being photographed in uniform) but the first thing that came to her mind when she saw that picture was his smile. Every time she and her brothers did something good, he would always get the biggest smile on his face, like he was the proudest man in the world. She’d missed that in the years since he died: now, she just had to imagine him smiling down from his spot in heaven.
I did it, dad, she thought as she grabbed her helmet and put it on. I finally did it.
Finally, she put on her goggles, grabbed her keys, and left her apartment.
The building she lived in wasn’t exactly a slum, but it wasn’t too far from it, either. It was in the Scharff quarter, right next to the infamous Vergesse quarter, and was only slightly better. It was the type of place where everyone had bars on their windows and two locks on their front door, but they all at least earned enough money to have three halfway decent meals a day and there were enough people with vehicles that there were a good number of safe places to put them.
Her particular safe place was right across the street from her apartment building. It was a small garage, one that was run by a fairly shady Valtruscan man she only knew by the name of Sal. He was a fairly nice guy, and only ever siphoned water out of the bikes and
cars in his care if one forgot to tip him. Most of the times she’d been to the garage, he was passed out drunk in his office; she wasn’t even positive that he knew who she was.
She walked over to her unit, unlocked the padlock, and pulled her bike out, locking the door behind her.
“Well, would you look at this one.” It looked like Sal wasn’t as drunk as he normally was: he was awake and had even managed to recognize her, something he couldn’t really do by around five o’clock most days. “Did those bastardos at the academy finally let you graduate, or are you now a prostitute who dresses as an inspector?”
“They let me graduate, Sal,” Hiro said as she mounted her bike. “You’re looking at the one and only female and Hanjan police inspector in Vorbereich.”
Sal gave her one of the sloppiest salutes she’d ever seen. “I’ll drink a pint to you, future police chief.”
Hiro couldn’t help but smile at that. “Thanks.”
With that, she started up the bike and rode off into the night, leaving a trail of warm, white steam behind.
The streets of the Scharff quarter were deserted: most people in that part of town were in bed after a long day working in one of the many factories in the city by that time of night. It meant that she had the roads in that neighborhood all to herself. She zipped along the narrow streets, only slowing down long enough to stop at major intersections, which were pretty infrequent in that part of Königstadt. Hiro could feel adrenaline rushing through her veins, giving her a high that most people in that part of town depended on opium to give them. She’d always loved riding steam bikes: she’d loved it since she first got on one with her older brother Ichirou, back when she was little and her family was still living in Hanjai. Maybe with this new career of her, she would be able to finally get one of those nice ones she’d seen in the windows of showrooms every day as she went to the academy. She could have the nice apartment in the east of the city, and she could have a nice steam bike to go with it.
That night would be the start of a new life for her.