Bastian

By the time Odette recovered her wits, evening was already closing in. The sky and the sea beyond the window were tinged with the light of the fading sun. At any moment, her maid would come in to ask her about dinner arrangements.

   She knew she had to clean up, but she had no energy for it. The best she could do was to curl up on the bed and as she did so, she felt the cold, dried sweat. She looked over at her dishevelled clothes all over the floor. The torn buttons, ripped underwear, shoes flung to opposite corners.

   Could it have been a bad dream?

   Of course not, she had to sober up and accept the reality as it was. Sorrow washed over her in drowning waves of anguish. She was exhausted. She yearned for rest, she wanted to fall asleep but was too afraid of what dream may come.

   She lay in a silence as quiet as if she was underwater and watched the sun set. In the silence, she became vaguely aware of a gentle ticking sound and in the twilight, she saw that the man had left behind his wrist watch.

   Raising painfully, Odette picked up the watch and looked at it. There was something different. She had an intuitive realisation in the moment her eyes met Bastian’s as he removed it. He was more rational than he had ever been in the days swept up in uncontrolled desire, which made him ever more threatening.

   The man that had been her last hope was now gone forever. Upon confronting that desperate reality, the world flipped on its head once more. It was the last memory Odette could fully recall.

   “Madam, its Dora,” the maids voice came from the other side of the bedroom door.

   Startled, Odette quickly rose from the bed, ignoring the stiffness in her muscles. She thought to get her robe, but her body was still a little awkward to control and instead, she stumbled to the floor. She couldn’t even manage a few proper steps.

   “Ma’am, are you okay, do you need me to call the doctor? Master said you were resting because you were not feeling well.”

    Not feeling well, 

Odette guessed that was the excuse Bastian had given the staff.

   “No, there’s no need,” Odette managed to give a weak response.

   As she got back up off the floor, she felt something wet and warm trickle down her leg. She knew what it was immediately and in a flash, the heavy weight and unfamiliar heat, the tearing pain between her legs, the sound of clashing flesh and the sensation she could not turn away from, even with her eyes clamped shut.

   “Madam, are you really okay?”

   “Yes, of course, don’t worry.” 

Suppressing her tears, Odette quickly grabbed her skirt nearby to hide the shameful traces. Had it been a normal marriage, this might have happened long ago, perhaps even in the back alley of the gambling den where they first met, so there was no need to be concerned about it.

 “Thank you, Dora. If I need any help, I will call.”  Odette gathered together her sullied garments, thankful that Dora decided not to do a visual check of her well being.

   Odette took a low breath, trying to get control of herself. She repeatedly chided herself as she made for the bathroom. She was finding it difficult to think properly and above it all, one fact remained clear, 

Bastian was insane.

There were no words to justify his decision to have a child for revenge, and Odette had no intention of paying the crazy man’s price.

Never, no matter what.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

“And its all thanks to you,” the Emperor declared, as he concluded the discussion on the situation of the North Sea.

   Bastian set down his glass with a modest smile. Now that the dinner and cocktail party was concluded, it was time to get down to the meat of why he was there, escorting the Crown Prince and Princess Belov.

   “Thanks to the successful establishment of a military alliance with Belov, we were able to strengthen the defensive line of the North Sea front. This is an honour that would not have been possible if Isabelle’s national marriage had not been successful. I will always deeply appreciate that,” but it seemed that the Emperor was not done with his rhetoric, Bastian was getting impatient. “I think it would be prudent to offer you a Baron title,” the Emperor continued. “That was your promised reward, was it not? With such contribution, I think you’re more than qualified to be listed among the imperial nobility, what do you think?”

   “You’re too generous.”

  “Why? Isn’t the title of a baron from the lower nobility enough? the Emperor said with a humerus note to his words. “If I were to offer you a higher station, the backlash would be fierce, but fear not, keep performing and “I promise you’ll be a navy admiral with the title of an earl by the time you’re forty.” the Emperor laughed.

   “Your majesty, I must tell you that I do not desire a title, nor do I wish to be admiral,” Bastian said politely. The Emperor looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

   “My dear Bastian, are you seriously turning down such a haughty gift, have you given up on your ambition?”

   “No, of course not, I would gladly accept if I had achieved anything myself, but I have no intention of accepting that which has not been dutifully earned,” Bastian smiled and nodded.

   Bastian felt entirely arrogant for turning down the Emperor’s offer, but he also did not want to accept handouts made by back room deals. He wanted to earn his titles and promotions through his own great deeds, not because he made a shady deal with the Emperor. One day he would fly with the wings of his own making. He would fly higher than any one ever dared imagine he could.

   “Well then, what is it that you desire? I doubt you would want more wealth,” the Emperor said, irritation clear as day.

   “May I reserve my answer for later, when I have had the chance to think about it?” Bastian was unflustered by the Emperors growing impatience.

   “So, you’re saying there is nothing I have that you would like? If I didn’t know you better, Major Klauswitz, I would say that you just insulted the Emperor.”

   “Not at all, Your Majesty, rather, I’m expressing my desire to achieve more, off my own back,” Bastian said, straightening his posture. “Postponing this deal until that day simply signifies the continuation of our personal relationship.”

   “And so?”

   “In return for deferring my reward, I intend to reap the interest of a stronger relationship with the royal family.”

   “Do you perceive my promise as some sort of savings account?” the Emperor scowled at Bastian. Bastian didn’t flinch.

   Bastian had thought long and hard about his plans. Plans that had to be altered thanks to Odette. Nothing was certain at the moment, but his goal was still clear. He would secure maximum benefit.

   To optimise his gains, he decided to exercise patience, knowing that hasty decision could result in lost opportunities. Gaining goodwill with the royal family was an added bonus. Bastian knew the Emperor would see through any attempts to conceal his true intentions, so he chose to deal with it head on.

   The Emperor was a ruthless man, but he wasn’t without his rationale. If he proposed some form of mutual gain, the Emperor would likely accept it. He was confident that he could be that benefit and the Emperor would not be able to resist.

   “You’re a refreshingly candid business man,” the Emperor mused. “No wonder most social circles are not fond of you.” The Emperor laughed heartily and drained his wine. “What about your desire to being the son-in-law of Felia nobility? You know, Duke Laviere won’t accept a son-in-law without a title.” The Emperor narrowed his eyes as he spoke, hinting at his daughters protection. “Well, now that the bothersome father-in-law is out of the picture, perhaps there’s no need to change wives after-all.”

   Bastian looked at his wrist, realising he had forgotten his watch, an ill oman for a naval officer. This oversight caused a minute crack to form in his composure.

   “I am prepared to accept whatever decision you have chosen to make on the matter, but personally, I hope that you will treat Odette well. She is, after all, my blood relative.”

   Bastian tidied his sleeves, raised his eyes to meet the Emperor’s. Blood relative, an inappropriate to describe a chess piece he had moved in position to be discarded, but Bastian did not object.

   “Yes, your majesty,” he said with a respectful smile. “I will bare that in mind.”

   The Emperor rang a bell and quickly after, a servant came in to refill his wine glass. “Now, new promises call for a toast, do they not?” The Emperor proffered the wine glass and held it high before him.

Without hesitation, Bastian downed his drink, feeling the warmth course down his throat. Whether it was the alcohol or lingering desire fueling him, he didn’t know.

“Madam went to bed early.” Lovis reported briefly, his curiosity about the palace’s events overshadowed by her master’s need for rest. “

“You’ve done well, rest now,” Bastian replied, his voice tinged with drunkenness, before calmly continuing on his way.

Lovis turned to ask about clothes but halted when he saw Bastian slowly approach his wife’s bedroom. Bastian wasn’t so drunk as to enter the wrong room.

Lovis held his breath in shock as Bastian opened the door without hesitation and stepped inside. As the door closed, the ticking of the clock marked the day’s end and the night’s silence broken only by the distant rustling of maids eavesdropping from around the corridor’s corner.

The maids’ lounge would buzz with this unusual topic tomorrow. Meanwhile, the rumors about the strife between the master and his wife seemed to be subsiding.