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Sandrine set down her teacup. She sat outside a little tea shop across from the Linder Gallery, the venue for Franz Klauswitz’s painting exhibition. Guests were already arriving in anticipation for the opening ceremony. Among them were journalists and critics from all the leading newspapers, all of whom Sandrine had personally invited.
There was only thirty minutes to go, Sandrine counted down the minutes as she sipped at her tea.
Franz was going to be the only artist not at the presentation, as if he had gotten bored of being the representation of poor artists. He had been called away to a business trip with his father and was probably still in Felia. He had not cut funding, but it was disheartening to know that he would not be there to witness the spectacle.
Anxiety begets anxiety, and no emotion can shatter a person as effortlessly as anxiety does – just as she was experiencing in this moment.
Sandrine took it upon herself to protect those artists who thought they had been abandoned. It took less than three days for the painters to turn against Franz, but it didn’t matter, their offending works were on full display and the foolish Franz still thought they were friends.
Franz was neither savage like his father or cunning like his mother and to think, he had defeated Bastian in the bid for the railway. Bastian had lost to someone who had nothing but his father’s bravado and his mother’s greed.
Sandrine was sure that Bastian’s defeat came because of his distraction with Odette’s disappearance. By now, the Klauswitz family would be celebrating their little victory, but that was all set to change.
Sandrine was getting bored, waiting for the exhibit to open. She reached for a cigarette and lit it as the lined up crowd brimmed with barely contained excitement.
As she watched them, lighting her cigarette, she felt a pang of regret that Bastian would not be here in person, to see the grand reveal with his own eyes.
*.·:·.✧.·:·.*
“This is all thanks to the Countess,” Theodora said, “and although it is a small gift, it is a gift that had been prepared with full gratitude.”
Theodora bowed her head as she held out a jewel she had prepared, doing her best to forget the how she had engaged in a subtle war with Countess Klein.
The thought that the arrogant Countess Klein’s daughter was the top contributor that had allowed Franz to beat Sophia’s son, Bastian, forced her to show some humility.
“I was thrilled to hear of Franz’s success and now that he has proven himself to be a shrewd businessman, does it mean that we will finally get to see Ella in a wedding dress?” Countess Klein said, as she examined the jewel.
“Of course. I wonder what it would be like to be a bride in the spring. What do you think?”
“It doesn’t sound too bad at all. It will be a bit of a rush, but my daughter has been engaged for so long, I don’t think there will be too much trouble.”
“Franz is a very responsible young man,” Theodora said, “and I suppose he didn’t like the idea of marrying her before he was ready to be a husband. It just goes to show how much he values Ella.”
“What do you think, Ella?” the Countess said as she turned to show Ella the jewellery box.
“As always, I am willing to follow your advice,” Ella said, who’s pouting face turned into a smile.
Theodora took the opportunity to slip one last piece of jewellery into the hands of her soon to be daughter-in-laws hand.
“Oh my, what a pretty brooch,” Ella said gratefully accepting the gift.
“You’ve been through a lot and I am so glad that Franz has a good companion like you. You are a blessing to our family.” At least that last compliment was genuine. The marriage would have fallen apart if not for Ella’s blind love for Franz.
Since Odette’s disappearance, Franz seems less interested, like he had moved on. Theodora thought he would have learnt from this, but even if he didn’t, she was determined to get him married, even if she had to drag him to the alter.
“Madam, madam,” a maid burst into the room.
“There are guests, what manner of rudeness is this?” the Countess demanded, flushing with embarrassment.
“There is an urgent call for you, madam.” The maid had not been deterred by the Countess’ stern words. Countess Klein left the room to take the call.
Theodora was not happy that she had been ignored, but managed to keep her composure, for Franz’s sake. Countess Klein returned in short manner, before Theodora and Ella had a chance to strike up a conversation about the wedding dress.
“How dare you,” the Countess blurted, her face red with anger.
Countess Klein snatched up all of the gifts Theodora had brought and threw them to the ground. Ella looked at her mother with a startled expression as the brooch was snatched from her hand and tossed into the fireplace.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, why are you acting so crazy?” Theodora said, trying to work out what had suddenly changed, what had the urgent phone call been about?
“It’s your son that is crazy,” the Countess cried out in a fit of rage. “I should never matched my daughter with that filthy beast. He is a disgusting little man.”
“Countess, calm down and explain. I don’t understand.”
“Oh really? Well, if your wondering then go down to the Linder Gallery and see for yourself. Get out of my house, I never want to see you around my daughter ever again.”
Countess Klein grabbed Ella by the wrist and stormed out of the parlour, leaving Theodora alone. She gathered her belongings, shaking from the insults and struggled to suppress the urge to run after the Countess.
Instead, Theodora turned her attention to the Linder Gallery, that seemed like the more logical place to go, to see for herself what the hell was going on.
*.·:·.✧.·:·.*
“The escort requested by the police department will arrive soon, until then, its best you wait here,” the conductor said.
Bastian peered through a crack in the curtains to see what was going on. Journalists with their cameras were surrounding the carriage and even if he could get past them, there were still a huge crows building up outside the station.
“What’s going on?” Bastian said.
“Ah, I don’t feel comfortable talking about it here,” said the conductor. He seemed to glance at Odette.
Frustrated, Bastian got up and left the compartment, leaving Odette alone in the silence. Feeling the urge, Odette got up and looked out the window for herself. She could feel a heat of excitement at the crowds outside. To her surprise, they were chanting her name, but not in a good way, her name was accompanied by a curse.
She felt anxiety rise in her as she backed away from the window. Bastian returned but she didn’t notice, her heart was beating hard and fast in her ears.
Bastian stood and stared at her and she did not have the courage to ask what had happened. He just stood in front of her, his lips pressed tightly together.
“The officers had arrived,” the conductor said without opening the doors to the compartment.
A sharp whistle echoed along the platform, followed by angry shouts and noise of the police trying to break up the mobs.
Having cooled his temper, Bastian grabbed his coat and threw it over Odette. There was no way he was going to throw this shabby woman in front of the crowds. Even if she was dressed like a queen, he would have done the same.
“Stay still absolutely still,” Bastian ordered and picked her up. “Don’t show a single hair.”
With Odette in his arms, Bastian rushed out of the cabin. There was a rush of noise and bright flashes of light like a raging tide the second Bastian stepped out onto the platform.
Amidst the unforgiving glare and mocking taunts, Bastian kept walking across the platform, with his wife in his arms, shielded entirely from the prying eyes of the public.