by H J Peterson
“Shut the hell up!” Hiro hissed in Adelric’s ear. Of course, neither of them seemed to have heard her: they were dead set on whatever idiotic thing Adelric had gotten himself wrapped up in when he engaged in conversation with that racist idiot.
“Careful there, boy,” the old man said as the train rolled to a stop. Thank heaven. “She’s got you under her mind control: I suggest that you get away from her, before it’s too late.”
The doors opened and Hiro grabbed Adelric’s arm, dragging him off of the train before things could spiral out of control any more than they’d already had.
“Well, maybe you… maybe you need to-to get your head out of your ass before it’s too late!” A flustered Adelric spat, pointing a declarative finger in the air as he was dragged out.
In that moment, Hiro wanted nothing more than to crawl under a rock and never come out.
Thank heaven, it didn’t get any worse: the doors to the train had closed before it could.
And the second that train was out of the station, Hiro smacked Adelric on the back of the head.
He uttered something under his breath as he rubbed his head. “What did I do?”
“What the hell were you thinking, engaging him like that?” Hiro snapped.
“Don’t tell me that didn’t piss you off,” Adelric said in his defense. “He was out of line!”
“That’s not the point,” Hiro said. “Like it or not, that kind of thing happens every damned day: if you let it get under your skin, you’re going to get bitter and become the monster they think you are.”
She began to walk away towards the stairs, her face getting red hot. Just like Aki.
“You sound like you speak from experience,” Adelric said as he walked after her.
She looked back at him. She could feel her blood pumping white hot through her veins. “How do you think my brother ended up with the Archangel?”
That shut him up right away, at least about that. He just caught up with her as she started up the stairs to get to the surface, again.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
“It’s fine,” Hiro said gruffly. They reached the top of that staircase, and began to head down the hallway to the right at that intersection, which had an exit sign above them. “Just… just forget about it, okay?”
Thank heaven, Adelric didn’t say anything else as they headed for the streets.
The cool air that awaited them outside the metro felt good: it was always so hot down there, thanks to all the steam. The sight of the grand Überhaus waited for them as they reached the top of the stairs, the façade lit. It stood proudly in front of them, the rain slicked stones of the plaza separating them seeming glowing like gold, the other buildings around it looming over it in shades of brown.
It was a truly breathtaking sight. Hiro found herself stopping at the top of the metro stairs just so she could take it all in.
“Yumi, are you alright?” Adelric’s voice cut into her voice, breaking the illusion that that night would be beautiful. Reminding her that they weren’t there for sight-seeing.
She shook her head, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand, and began to walk towards the Überhaus. Adelric followed close by.
“Just fine,” Hiro said as they walked through the plaza in the rain. “Let’s get this over with.”
That was when her nerves began to get to her. Everything that had happened on the metro was forgotten, replaced by pure, unadulterated fear. What if they made a mistake? What if the city police didn’t do their part well enough? What if they’d somehow found out who she and Adelric really were?
She supposed that the answer to that question was rather simple: they would die. The Archangel or one of his minions would kill them, if they were lucky. If they weren’t, which would probably be the case for them, they would put their likely mutilated bodies somewhere public as a warning to anybody that might want to cross them, too.
It scared her, to think that her only hope if they were to get caught was that Ichirou would be able to find her body and bury her. And that she wouldn’t look too awful when the coroner brought him in to identify her.
She forced all of those thoughts out of her head as they approached the front doors, where Klara was waiting for them. You’re going to be fine, she kept telling herself. Everyone’s going to their jobs, and you’ll get to go back to being Hiro after all this is over. You’re going to get your normal life back, and we’ll be one step closer to finding out who the Archangel is.
Everything is going to be alright.
“You’re late.” That was the first thing Klara said to them as they approached the doors.
“Sorry about that,” Adelric said as he rubbed the back of his neck, an easy smile on his face. “We had some trouble with the metro coming here: the trains weren’t running on time.”
“Whatever,” Klara said with an eye roll. She opened the door. “Let’s get this over with.”
My thoughts exactly, Hiro thought as they walked into the Überhaus.
The inside of the building, unlike the outside, was dark. Shadows reigned, masking the interior that had amazed her when she’d first seen it in a dark gloom. She wasn’t able to gawk at any of it, which was probably for the best: she couldn’t let herself get distracted.
“How did you get the keys to this place?” Adelric asked, looking around as the door shut behind them.
“One of our men is the night custodian of this place,” Klara said. She began walking up the stairs, to where the access to the seats were. Hiro and Adelric followed, their footsteps reverberating throughout the silent opera house. “All he had to do was leave it unlocked when he left for the night.”
We’ll bring all of them in for questioning when this is done, Hiro thought to herself.
“Neat,” Adelric said as they reached the seat access. Doors lined the curved wall in order to get to the floor boxes, while stairs on either end of the curved hallway lead up to the boxes. They walked to the first door, which lead to the cheaper seats.
Even in the darkness, Hiro was awestruck by what she saw around. She’d known that the Überhaus theater was absolutely massive, but that… that was beyond anything she could’ve imagined. The space she saw around her was easily as tall as her apartment building, and could likely fit half a city block. And that chandelier… even in the dim light, she could tell that it was a wonder of the world, with intricately placed crystal around chemical lights that burned a dull yellow. That glow illuminated the velvet chairs around her and stage scenery for their show, which would be opening the next night.
Well, at least, if they were able to keep it from getting blown to bits.
“The barrels are already here,” Klara said. “They aren’t where the Archangel wants them to be, though.”
Klara hopped over the ledge that lead to the orchestra pit, followed by Hiro and Adelric.
Hiro froze in her tracks.
She’d been thinking that there would only be a couple of barrels in there. What she saw, though, was a hell of a lot more than a couple barrels. The orchestra pit was absolutely filled with black powder barrels: twenty, at least. It was enough to destroy not just the Überhaus, but the buildings around it, too.
Hiro couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t let it happen!
And, lucky for her, she would have some help to make sure this plan didn’t succeed.
Sure enough, once they were down there, the lights were thrown on in the pit. That was when they were able to see them: Brooks with his gun held up at them, two police officers–a Doc and a Dodger, judging by the epaulets–standing behind him, ready to move in case things went too far south.
“Freeze!” Brooks barked. “Get your hands in the air!”
Of course, that’s not what Klara did. Instead, she reached for her own gun-
And froze in her spot when Hiro held her gun up to her head.
“Klara Schultz,” Hiro said with more satisfaction than she thought possible, “You’re under arrest.”
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LII. FRIEDRICH
Friedrich stared into the mirror at the tailor’s shop, resisting the urge to rip that stupid collar off of the suit. It had been a couple days since his marriage, and the world had been turned over on its head with anger. He’d seen the faces of the dead day in and day out in the papers, and he’d heard the people on the streets screaming for justice. And thanks to his father’s commitments to the government, he’d also heard all about the officers that were killed trying to end the protests. Their funerals would be held later on that week, and the Eltz family–including him and Katalin–would be expected to attend to support the emperor when he made his speech and the families of those officers as they mourned the deaths of their loved ones.
It would also be his and Katalin’s first public appearance as a married couple, and so, his parents insisted that the two of them get some new clothes for the occasion.
Friedrich, of course, was being fitted for a military-style, double-breasted suit. It was black, in the spirit of the occasion, with gold epaulets, buttons, and trim. And, of course, it had one of those stupid, high collars, the ones that made him feel like his clothes were trying to strangle him. He’d begged his mother to tell the tailor to not put one of those stupid things on that suit, but, of course, she didn’t.
“What do you think, my lord?” the tailor asked, smiling. “Do you like it? Does it fit to your liking?”
Other than the fact that I feel like my suit is trying to strangle me. “Yes: it fits quite nicely.” Friedrich turned to look at the tailor. “How is Katalin’s dress coming along?”
“Oh, she looks absolutely lovely,” the tailor said as he began to make a final inspection of the suit, looking for any pins, loose thread, or anything else that needed to be improved. “My wife has her in a beautiful Abigail Layne dress made out of black charmeuse and chiffon, with red trim…”
The tailor stopped himself when he saw the lost look on Friedrich’s face. “Please don’t be offended when I ask this, Lord Eltz, but… do you know that much about fabrics?”
“Not a thing,” Friedrich freely admitted. “My mother and Katalin can tell you: I’m absolutely hopeless when it comes to the standards of fashion.” He looked over at the tailor, a little sheepish. “Am I really that obvious?”
The tailor visibly relaxed when he saw that Friedrich wasn’t offended. He just went back to inspecting the suit. “It isn’t something I would be ashamed of, my lord. If I may be so bold to say, you are not my most hopeless customer.”
Friedrich couldn’t hold it in: he laughed.
“Are you sure?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. And that stupid collar. As much as he liked that tailor, he was kind of glad that he’d be going to a different one: he could start all over as far as style went. “Name one man in all of Königstadt that has worse fashion sense than me.”
“Just one?” the tailor asked as he clipped at some stray threads on the bottom of Friedrich’s pant leg. “I-I mean, I shouldn’t-“
“If you’re worried about getting in trouble, stop,” Friedrich said.
“W-well, in that case, Lord Dankopf has an absolutely terrible taste in clothes,” the tailor said as he began to hem the bottom, quickly sewing part of the pant leg that he’d pinned up so the pants would be the perfect length. “And the worst part is, he isn’t very good at taking instructions from people that don’t. His wife always sends me instructions for his clothes, and he always disregards them. He’s the worst-case scenario for the fashion blind: someone that wouldn’t know good clothes if it bit them right on their… behind.”
Friedrich laughed at that, too.
“Are you serious?” Friedrich asked. “All this time, I’ve felt so bad about how Lady von Strauss dresses her husband, and she’s the one I should feel sorry about?”
“I… guess so,” the tailor said as he moved on to the next pant leg. “I’m sorry, Lord Eltz; I really don’t feel comfortable discussing my clients like this.”
“Of course, of course,” Friedrich said with a flick of his wrist. “I understand completely.”
It was right about then that Katalin and the tailor’s wife came back from the women’s section of the shop.
Katalin was, just as the tailor had said, was wearing a black dress, one that didn’t even have a bustle or anything: it was something that, as far as Friedrich knew, wasn’t in style. Her dress was long and flowed: it didn’t even seem to have a corset. Most of it was black, except for a sheer, translucent part that went over the top part and flowed down about to her knees: that part was red. The red fabric also had red, lacy flowers by the hems. The tailor’s wife had even done her hair up in a very loose bun with a pencil, allowing some curly strands of her hair to fall down around her face.
It was very elegant: very simple, as befitting a funeral, but still, very beautiful.
"How do I look?" Katalin asked as she walked towards them. She was looking down at her gown, inspecting herself. "I mean, I know that this style isn't exactly fashionable, but a bustled dress just didn't seem right for a funeral-"
"Don't worry about what is and isn't fashionable," Friedrich said. "You could wear a horse blanket and still look wonderful."
Katalin blushed at the compliment and smiled. "Thanks, Friedrich."
"Putting your husband's opinion aside, I really don't think you have much to worry about," the tailor said. "You're part of a very important house now, Lady von Thurzó; you don't need to worry about being on the cutting edge of fashion. Houses like Eltz decide what is fashionable and what isn't: whatever you wear, my lady, the other noblewomen will be wearing within the week."
Katalin seemed really surprised by that: her eyes got wide and her eyebrows went up. "Really?" She looked down at her dress again, her confidence shrinking a little. She looked back up at Friedrich, frowning. "Friedrich, why didn't you tell me about that?"
He held his hands up in mock surrender. "My mother's the one that's dressed me up to this point, Katalin: I hardly ever pay attention to what I'm wearing.”
"I think you need some pearls," the tailor's wife piped up. Blunter than a brick to the face, as usual. "Your neck looks naked without one."
Katalin put a hand to her neck. "Do you really think so?"
"Your neck looks just fine," Friedrich assured her.
"Oh, don't listen to him: he's just saying that because he doesn't want to pay for a new set of pearls for you." She turned and gave Friedrich a look. "I never thought I would see this: a mark-pinching Eltz."
Friedrich turned towards the tailor, looking for some support. Of course, he stayed silent. Sorry, but you're on your own for this one, his eyes seemed to say.
"Friedrich doesn't need to get me a new set of pearls," Katalin said. "My mother gave me the family set when Friedrich and I got married. I'll try them on when we get back home, and we'll see what we think of it."
And there was the reminder of what he'd been trying all day to distance himself from. Katalin didn't know about it, yet, but he'd gotten a reply back from the land commissioner in Staatsburg about the possibility of buying a home for themselves. As it turned out, connections to the government weren't enough to get a home in Staatsburg: you had to actually be a member of the government, thanks to some city ordinances. At that moment, there were only three positions in the Staatsburg government, all of which would be open to him, thanks to the fact that his father was Lord Eltz: police commissioner, advisor to the transportation commissioner, and city ambassador to the national government, which would require him to be in Königstadt every month to discuss national laws. Obviously, the ambassador job was the only thing he might have been qualified for, but it was going to take him away from Katalin much more than he would've liked. He needed to ask her what she thought of it, before he replied to the land commissioner.
"Speaking of home, I heard back from the land commissioner," Friedrich said as the tailor's wife did her own inspection of Katalin's dress. "I'm not sure I like his offer, though: I want to know wha
t you think of it."
"I'll grab the paperwork, then," the tailor said. He and his wife left, giving them some privacy.
"What did you hear?" Katalin asked. "They don't have anything available, do they?"
"No, actually: that isn't the problem," Friedrich said. "In order to buy a house, you have to have some sort of government job. The only one I really feel even marginally qualified for is going to require me to spend a couple of days every month back in Königstadt in meetings with other city ambassadors, the king, and representatives from the king's council and noblemen's council-"
"You want to know whether or not I'm okay with you commuting to and fro every month, don't you?"
Friedrich nodded.
"I'm going to be honest: I'm not super excited about that," Katalin said. "After what your mother told me about your father, I don't know that I could handle it if you were... to give your life up to the government."
Friedrich frowned. "What did she tell you?"
"That your father was actually very similar to you, before he became the head of the house," Katalin said. "She said that he didn't get this way until he started participating in the government and his father's shipping business."
Friedrich wouldn't know: that all happened when he was too young to remember anything. As far as he was concerned, his father had always been his grouchy, angry self.
"You aren't going to do that to me, are you?" Katalin asked.
"I won't." And he meant it. What his father had turned into was disgusting, and he didn't want any part in it.
"I want to see the houses before you commit to anything," Katalin said. "If I'm going to have to commit to living without my husband for a few days every month, I want to at least love my house.”
Friedrich smiled. "Alright. I'll tell the land commissioner that we'll go down there after the funeral to look at houses."
"Speaking of the funeral, do you know what you're going to say?”
Friedrich frowned. "What are you talking about? I didn't get asked to speak."
Now, it was Katalin's turn to look confused. "Your mother was telling me that your father was going to have you speak in his place: I guess the commoners like you a lot more than they like him. Didn't he tell you?"