Chapter Two - The Royal Tutor

Granzreich, 1883

"Happy as I am, I do not belong here..."

Alone in his chambers in the Royal Palace, Heine Wittgenstein lay awake in the darkness, curled up on his side and remembering his very first night spent in the palace. Even now, months later, he still found it strange to be sleeping in a comfortable bed, in a room as spacious and well-furnished as the one he occupied now. To have a full stomach, warm clothes, and more than a penny or two in his pockets – these were things he'd not dared to let himself dream of as a child.

I should be happy, he thought morosely. I have a position, a salary, respect. But even now, with the truth known, I cannot shake the feeling that this is but a dream, one that cannot last. It matters not that the princes have accepted me, that Viktor has long since forgiven me. I am a commoner and a criminal.

He sighed and rolled onto his back, watching the shifting shadows on the ceiling for a while, then he pulled back the covers, reached for his spectacles, and climbed out of bed. Picking up a large box near his desk, he set it on the low table, then lifted the lid. Inside were mementos from every student he had taught – letters, drawings, little tokens of appreciation from the many children he had worked with over the years.

Fleeting memories of innocent lives.

"Dearest Professor Heine, I want you to know I love you. Because of you, I like reading more than anything in the world. Thanks so much."

"Professor, this autum leaf is for you becaus its pretty and red and reminds me of your hair."

"Professor Heine, when I grow up I want to be a great teacher just like you."

A soft smile, one that most never saw, gently curved his lips as he brushed his fingers over the box's contents. Then he lifted out a small journal, sat down on the chaise longue, and opened the book. Even in the faint moonlight through the windows, he could still read every word, long since memorized.

Lukas Vogler
Marko Ehehalt
Frida Küper
Sophia Probst
Annett Farber
Johanna Goldschmidt
Lena Fruehauf
Daniel Fischer
Martina Baum
Karsten Röger
Wilfried Wichterle
Hendrik Höner
Helge Lichtenstein
Alina Reuther
Gabriele Aachen

They were the names of each of his students, with notes about each and their lives after leaving the orphanage. Some were the orphans he had known and led during those lean and hungry years living in the Wienner sewers, others were the ones he had been tasked with teaching at Maria Vetsera. As time had passed, Heine had made a point of trying to keep tabs on each of them, to be certain that they were leading happy lives in relative comfort, instead of the harsh poverty he had grown up with. Of all the hard-won victories he had earned in his life, those were the most precious to him.

Heine slowly turned the pages, until he came to the most recent entries.

Licht von Granzreich
Leonhard von Granzreich
Bruno von Granzreich
Kai von Granzreich

The four youngest princes of the realm, and his current students.

Heine sat in the moonlight, his fingers resting on the open pages, then he sighed and placed the journal back in the box and replaced the cover. As he climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over himself once more, he removed his glasses and carefully set them near his pillow before closing his eyes.

Though I cannot help but wonder... is it ever truly possible to move on from one's past? To let go of those things that have shaped one's character?

Heine pulled one of the other pillows against his chest and curled up around it, briefly hiding his face against the softness.

I can only hope that it is. And that there is always redemption... even for someone like me.


The following morning, Heine sat in the reception hall, going over the princes' homework, but his mind was elsewhere.

"There are rumours about a criminal record."

"A criminal as the Royal Tutor?"

"Unacceptable!"

"The Royal Tutor is the man who will groom our king. It is the most prestigious post in the entire palace. It cannot be left to a criminal with no degree."

"You look troubled, my friend."

Heine looked up to see Viktor, King of Granzreich, standing in the doorway of the reception hall, and he quickly rose to his feet, but the king waved him back to his seat as he sat opposite Heine.

"I simply stopped by to say hello. With the upcoming diplomatic conference, what little free time I have will vanish." He shrugged ruefully, and Heine gave Viktor a slightly reproachful look.

"As if you didn't already overwork yourself."

"Yes, well... as I said, you seemed troubled. Is something wrong?"

Heine briefly considered not answering, but he and Viktor had been friends far too long to lie to him.

"I suppose," he said slowly, "I am still wondering why the princes fought so hard for my re-instatement, and then in the end, why you and the Counts allowed it." A bitter smile crossed his face. "A criminal with no degree as the Royal Tutor. Under other circumstances, it would be ludicrous to even consider."

Viktor sighed and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his fingers laced together as he spoke.

"My friend, it has never ceased to amaze me that for all your brilliance, for all your wisdom, you fail to recognize that which is right in front of you."

Heine's eyes widened in surprise as Viktor went on. "Your social status, your background, that does not define who you are. It has shaped you, yes. You wouldn't be the man you are now were it not for that. But the good that you have done, that you are doing even now, is because of who and what you are... not in spite of it."

Heine felt a lump in his throat at his friend's praise, and he tried to thank him, but he couldn't make himself speak. But Viktor saw it nonetheless, and he smiled.

"Anyway, I'm sure that my sons will be here shortly to test your patience as always, so I'll leave you to prepare."

"Thank you."

The king nodded and left, and Heine looked down at his notes.

I hope you're right, my friend.

A few minutes later, in came the princes, Licht and Bruno bickering amongst themselves as usual, and Heine started counting under his breath.

One, two, three, four, five...

He didn't reach ten before Kai gave a quiet growl, and Bruno and Licht immediately fell silent. Leonhard, on the other hand, was too busy yawning to argue with his brothers, and Heine suspected that the prince had nearly slept in again.

"Good morning, Your Highnesses," he greeted.

"Good morning, Master," Bruno replied.

"Morning, Heine darling," Licht sang out as he dropped carelessly onto the couch beside Heine, who promptly moved away.

"Good morning, Professor," Kai murmured.

Leonhard tried to say "good morning," but it was lost in another yawn.

Bruno, however, was peering closely at the tutor, a look of concern in his cobalt blue eyes.

"Are you feeling well, Master? You seem a touch... worn out, if you'll forgive me for saying so."

Heine shook his head, the tassel of his cap swinging as he did so. "I am fine, prince. Do not worry about me."

The prince looked ready to say something, but closed his mouth and nodded, unwilling to argue with Heine in front of the others.

"Now, then, for today's lesson..."


A few days later, Heine and Licht headed into town as per their standing arrangement so the youngest prince could maintain his incognito job at a local café. Heine carried a sheaf of papers with him, and once Licht was in uniform, he stopped by with Heine's regular order of a kapuziner and Dobos torte.

"Ah, thank you."

"You're welcome, Professor," Licht said cheerfully, then he bustled off to attend to his other duties.

Normally Heine devoted his full attention to the chocolate, buttercream, and caramel sponge cake, but today he found himself studying the prince as he worked.

It is certainly ironic. I spent my life as a commoner, now working with royals, and now I watch over a royal who spends his time working as a commoner. Though I must admit, of the four princes, Prince Licht is the most comfortable here in town and mingling with the people. Heine sipped at his coffee and grimaced slightly to himself. Though I doubt he'd do well living on his own.

"Is something the matter with your drink, sir?"

Heine looked up to see the café owner looking at him in concern.

"Pardon?"

"You looked dissatisfied a moment ago. Would you prefer something else instead?"

"Oh, no, the kapuziner is delicious as always. It was my thoughts causing my dissatisfaction, not the fare. I apologize if it worried you."

The café owner looked relieved, then returned to the kitchen behind the main café.

Licht, in the meantime, was cheerfully flirting with two matrons at a nearby table while taking their order, polishing the marble tabletop, and effortlessly balancing his serving tray on his head. Once he'd taken their order, he swept the tray off his head with a flourish and bow, then headed to another table. As Heine watched, he chatted with customers, cleared tables, answered patrons' questions about the menu, and never seemed to stop moving. And yet, he gave each café patron his undivided attention, and seemed to remember every detail of their visits.

Heine leaned back in his booth, his torte briefly forgotten as he watched the prince. Even after all this time, all of the princes still mystify me, he thought. I cannot decide if it is their seriousness or their various theatrics and affectations that are their real selves. I suppose in that, they are more like their father than even they realize.

Then he sighed and returned his attention to his food and his papers.

Though I also cannot help but wonder if even they know who their real selves are. Still, I suppose that such understanding can only come with time and experience.

To be continued...