Come To My Chamber

Once I’d commissioned the fitting for Herman’s triumphal-ceremony attire, I found to my dismay that I had almost no money left on hand. A good many of the jewels Gloria had hoarded, it turned out, were counterfeit.

Was it a mistake to have opened my mouth at all?

For the briefest moment, I resented the mouth that had blurted out that excuse about having Herman Ernst’s attire made. But the words were already out, and there was nothing to be done about it now. Besides, I did rather want to make at least one set of clothes for the nation’s hero who had taken the long road home.

Even so, this won’t be nearly enough to see me all the way up to the capital.

I fiddled with the purse Tess had given me, decided it simply wouldn’t do, and left my room, ostensibly for a stroll but in truth to snoop. Half of me hoped that if I wandered the castle long enough, I might turn up something I could carry off and sell. A dishonorable notion, to be sure, but cornered as I was, I could hardly afford to be particular.

As it happened, choosing something to sell proved harder than I’d expected, thanks to a few rules I’d set myself. First, anything of Herman’s was strictly off-limits. Though of course, what in this whole castle wasn’t his to begin with? Still, there might be a few things left that he didn’t even count as his own, that he thought nothing of.

After all, this is only because I’m having his ceremony attire made. Once I’ve reclaimed my name, surely I can simply pay it all back.

Needled by my conscience for no good reason, I tacked that excuse on for my own benefit.

Next, it had to be something whose sudden disappearance no one would notice. But the castle was already so bare that the loss of any single thing would show at once.

So it was true, then — that she’d gone through the Ernst fortune like water. It really was true, Gloria.

Every time I’d sat at meals with Herman and heard the reproaches heaped on Gloria, I’d let them wash over me, since they were no affair of mine.

I think I’m finally beginning to see why that man could never set eyes on me without itching to find fault.

My aimless wandering carried me, before I knew it, to the garden. And it was about then that a fine idea flitted through my head.

Yes — flowers, that’s it.

Herman hardly seemed the sort to trouble himself over garden flowers. What was more, if the flowers happened to vanish one day, I could readily furnish a plausible excuse. That a storm blowing through before dawn had beaten them down, say, or that some hungry wild beasts had come and stripped them bare.

I’ll cut the flowers and sell them at the market.

But that modest yet grand dream was dashed easily enough. In the long-neglected garden, the flowers, to say nothing of the weeds, were all withering away.

This can’t be.

Who on earth would dare call this the garden of House Ernst? I stared blankly at the overgrown grass, dumbfounded.

“And who, exactly, said you were free to come out this far?”

In that instant, I caught the sound of someone behind me. When I whirled around, an enormous shadow fell dark across me, and there stood a man so tall I had to crane my neck to look up at him.

“And alone, no less.”

Herman Ernst spoke with a discontented twitch of his brows. Arms folded, looking down at me askance, he wore the face of a man thoroughly displeased that I’d come all the way out to the garden by myself.

Ever since the suicide scare I’d caused against my will, Herman had kept a close and constant watch on me. The limits on my movements had eased a good deal once we’d begun taking our meals together, but he’d insisted that whenever I left my room, Tess was to go with me without fail.

“I’m sorry. Tess seemed rather busy. I felt so stifled, I only meant to catch a breath of air and come straight back in.”

Herman seemed to weigh something at my words, then spoke slowly.

“I, ah — I’d been meaning to take a bit of a walk myself.”

I couldn’t fathom what Herman meant by that. When I fixed him with an awkward stare, an unnatural silence stretched between us.

Oh — surely he doesn’t mean I’ve gotten in the way of his walk?

I hurriedly, clumsily stepped aside to clear the way. As though he couldn’t make sense of what I was doing, Herman gazed off toward a distant mountain and spoke, a little stiffly.

“We could walk together, for that matter.”
“Sorry?”

At the unexpected offer, I very nearly hiccuped. And to me, standing there bewildered, Herman abruptly held out one arm.

“You said you came out because you felt stifled.”
“…”
“So I’m saying I’ll walk with you, in Tess’s stead.”

I gazed quietly down at Herman’s thick arm. He meant to escort me himself, in person.

“…Very well, then.”

Unable to hold out against his urging, I ended up nodding at last, thinking all the while that this might just be another chance to ask him to take me along to the triumphal ceremony.

Herman led me to the linden wood beyond the garden. He seemed to know the lay of the land intimately, which was natural enough; born and raised here, he’d know his surroundings like his own backyard.

I never knew a place like this was here.

Deep in the wood, it was utterly still. Sunlight poured straight down through the gaps in the leaves, and a gentle breeze smoothed over the green of the forest. The dry twigs and soft earth gave pleasantly underfoot, yet Herman and I did nothing but walk on, stiff and mechanical, eyes fixed dead ahead like a pair of wound-up toy soldiers.

In any case, I really ought to broach the subject soon.

Striking up a conversation with a man who stared silently ahead was no easy feat. Herman had a gift for radiating a tremendous, oppressive presence with nothing more than his breathing.

“I hear you’ve been up to something rather commendable of late.”

Somewhere far off, a nightbird trilled. Herman, his gaze still fixed on the distance, spoke to me, and when I looked up as if to ask what he meant, he pressed on firmly, as though warning me not to play dumb.

“I’m told you sold off those dresses and jewels you prized so dearly, and handed Tess the money to have a suit made for me to wear at the triumphal ceremony.”
“Ah — yes.”
“What are you thinking?”

I couldn’t see why he’d suddenly ask such a thing.

Has he caught on to something?

While I was still trying to read his intent, he went on, as though he’d been waiting for the chance.

“I’ll say this just in case: none of it is going to make me take you to the triumphal ceremony.”
“—!”
“And seeing as you don’t even deny it, it seems I wasn’t mistaken.”

It hadn’t been my intent to win his favor and tag along to the ceremony. But since I did, in fact, have another scheme afoot, I couldn’t quite bring myself to argue.

Still, it isn’t as though there’d been no genuine goodwill in it at all.

A small pang of injustice was just beginning to well up in me.

“I’d taken it for a wife’s devotion to her husband, when in truth it was fawning with an agenda.”
“…And if I told you it wasn’t, would you have any inclination to believe me?”
“Who’s to say, madam.”

Herman made no attempt to hide his displeasure; the mock-courtesy he’d slipped in made that plain enough. I clenched my small fists and, unwilling to hold my tongue, shot back.

“As I’ve said more than once over our meals together, I am not so ignorant that I don’t know to pay my respects to a hero who fought and staked his life for his country.”
“Respect, you call it.”
“Yes, respect. I swear to you, that formal attire was prepared with genuine esteem, and nothing less.”

Had my aim all along been merely to make a show of things and buy Herman’s favor, I’d hardly have handed over so large a sum so readily, with instructions to have the finest formal dress made. And certainly not while stooping to the indignity of cutting flowers from a sorry garden to sell.

“You’ve never once believed a word I’ve said, so what more is there for me to plead here? Whatever I say, you’ll only suppose I’ve got some ulterior motive anyway.”

The moment the words left me, regret came flooding in. Even so. However inured I’d grown to a world where no one would believe a word I said…

It isn’t right of me to take my temper out on Herman.

The greatest victim in this whole affair, every bit as much as I, was Herman Ernst himself. The instant I grasped that, the words I’d flung out in the grip of emotion shamed me.

“…”

At some point we had stopped walking and stood facing each other. Herman’s hair glinted in the soft sunlight, and for a fleeting moment I felt a cool breeze come drifting through the black of it. The stillness of the wood drove home that here, it was only the two of us.

“The thing is, my way of speaking…”

All at once Herman broke off mid-sentence and raked an irritable hand through the back of his hair.

“If my manner of speaking has offended you, then I apologize. Too long on the battlefield, and doubting and cornering people seems to have become a habit.”

Then he let slip an unexpected fact.

“And besides, my ceremony attire is already seen to. I had it fitted in the capital before I came down to the ducal lands.”
“…Ah. Then it seems I’ve gone to needless trouble.”
“No — not necessarily.”

I looked at Herman with a puzzled expression, as if to ask what he meant.

“At a time like this, the right thing would be to thank you, I suppose. Thank you for the thought, Gloria.”

I’d never once imagined I’d hear such direct thanks from him. Somehow it left me flustered, the back of my neck burning, and my eyes, at a loss, drifted down to the tips of my feet.

“So the money’s yours to use. However dire the household’s straits, I’m not so worthless a man that I’d have myself clothed on the proceeds of my wife’s sold-off gowns.”

At that I gave a violent start and lifted my head. The news was so welcome, so startling, that my eyes flew wide. If I no longer had to furnish Herman’s ceremony attire, then with that money I could make the journey up to the capital in perfect comfort.

“Thank you.”
“I’ve only handed back what was given to me. There’s no need to thank me for that.”
“Even so. Truly. Truly, thank you, Herman.”

My heart, which had felt as weighed down as if a boulder had settled inside it, turned feather-light in an instant.

Now I can go to the capital.

Whether by turning up proof, or a witness, or else forcing the two of us back into our rightful places by main strength, I had to reach the capital, where those people were, no matter what. Perhaps it was because I’d cleared the first hurdle so cleanly, but though my revenge hadn’t even begun, I felt as if I could do anything at all. A fervor blazed up in me for the first time in ages.

“Won’t you walk with me a little longer?”

In my suddenly buoyant mood, I lifted my head and asked Herman. In part it was something I’d blurted out, swept up in the moment, and only once it was out did it occur to me that I’d need some plausible reason. I had to scramble for an excuse.

“This wood, I mean. It’s so lovely.”

The sound of a stream from somewhere lent the air an inexplicable freshness. I tipped my head toward it and gave a sheepish little smile.

“…If that’s what you wish.”

The detour had been an impulsive one. Herman, who’d let himself be led along without the slightest resistance, spoke up abruptly the moment we reached the streamside.

“Gloria.”

It took me a beat to realize the word had been meant for me. No matter how often I heard it, it was a name I could never grow used to.

“Tonight.”

When I turned my head slowly toward Herman, his lips parted, then pressed together again, as though he were hesitating over something.

“Come to my chamber.”

And yet, when he finally forced the words out, Herman’s expression looked more unburdened than I had ever seen it.