Chapter 4

Beautiful Child

12

The secretive visits continued, a guilty pleasure. Time passed, and von Krolock noted with some surprise how fast Sarah transformed into a lissome child in pigtails, losing her babyish chubbiness. She grew into a girl who loved to dance and sing, but who also possessed a thoughtful and inward side as well. Often, after putting out the candle for the night, she would sit at the window gazing out into the ancient forests and mountains, looking up at the moon and stars. He felt her wonder, with a current of longing underneath, and her clear eyes seemed to see far more than the physical reality before her.

How strange, to see something timeless in eyes so young.

Each birthday, from the time she turned seven, he continued to leave one white rose, usually just inside the window sash. He avoided entering if at all possible. Sarah tried to stay awake each birthday eve, to catch him in the act, all to no avail. He would grin at her frustration as she lay still and quiet, breathing deeply, pretending to be asleep. That never worked, of course. He always managed to wait until she succumbed to sleep, although once-last year on her 11th birthday- dawn was tinting the sky to blue as he shot back to his sanctuary, like a bat out of hell.

By this time he wasn't overly concerned that these small infrequent tokens would be discovered as a threat. Rebecca had scolded Sarah after the first rose, assuming her daughter had taken the bloom from a neighbor's garden without permission. Tight-lipped, Sarah had hidden every rose from that time onward, in a small wooden box she hid under a loose floor board. On more than one occasion von Krolock had seen her sneak out the box after her parents had tucked her in, removing the lid, touching the dried petals with gentle fingertips, finally leaning over to take a deep breath through her nose. At those times he savored her quiet delight in the lingering perfume, and her puzzled curiosity. For awhile he could almost forget what and who he was, engrossed in the small happenings of her life.

One entertaining evening Sarah held a wrestling match with her unruly mane of hair. One hundred strokes of a brush was the usual evening toilet for most girls and women, but for Sarah such a routine proved to be a Herculean task, a true exercise in frustration.

He almost laughed aloud when she broke the wooden comb in half and spent the next half hour picking splinters and several comb teeth from her half dry hair. Then he came dangerously close to falling from his precarious perch when she next ended up snarling the brush in her hair so completely she was unable to untangle it right away.

A faint sense of guilt colored his amusement, but he hadn't experienced such a pleasant diversion in years.

He made up for it two weeks later, on the eve of her 12th birthday. While she sat at a late dinner, he slipped in through the window (now easily opened since he had adjusted the lock & latch) and left not only the customary snowy rose on her pillow, but also a small bundle bound in silk underneath the same pillow.

Back outside he stationed himself for the best view, practically hanging upside down from the eaves, close enough to see her reaction. Luckily it was quiet and late enough that no one would notice a darker than normal shadow high up on the inn's face.

There he waited, letting his mind drift.

Procuring this particular gift had proven easy, as his son had been a willing accomplice to this task, with his attention to nuance and detail. "I know just the thing," Herbert had said while tapping one of his sharp canines with a long manicured nail, a mannerism that he had picked up from his father. "Simple and elegant, not too fussy."

Von Krolock was grateful for the help, and even more grateful that his son did not pry any further. The only other remark this evening had been, "Glad to see you've found a new hobby, Tăticul*. It's refreshing not to find you haunting the castle like a forlorn ghost. Let me know if you find someone I might like to…observe."

Von Krolock snorted softly. Herbert had not the patience for something so mundane. He would probably say something like, "This is what you've been doing for the past 12 years? How boring." In fact, most of the time, von Krolock himself didn't know why he continued looking in on Sarah, like a naturalist studying a rare exotic flower. He only knew it pleased him in some indefinable way, and that was reason enough for now. She was only a child, after all, and he meant no harm, only wished for her the simple joys of a normal human life, something forever lost to him.

He snapped to attention upon hearing light footsteps racing up the stairs. "Yes mama, papa, Iwon'tforgettosaymyprayersgoodnight!" she called before bursting into her room. Closing the door, she leaned back against it, breath coming fast. Her anticipation was palpable as she went around the enclosed space with her guttering candle casting quivering shadows on the walls and floor. She inspected the window frame closely before opening the casement, heaving a heavy sigh before drifting over to the dresser. Another sigh, shoulders slumping. Feet dragging, she walked over to her bed and plunked herself on the edge before reaching over to set the candle holder on the bedside table. She froze mid-turn, and von Krolock knew she had caught sight of the rose.

"Oh…." She breathed. Down went the candle as she cradled the bloom in both hands, stroking over the petals with her thumbs. "So pretty," she murmured, taking a delicate sniff. She brushed the rose over her lips. "Soft…" Smiling, she toppled over sideways, head hitting the pillow. She lay there for a moment before popping up with a soft exclamation.

Setting the flower aside she drew out the hidden bundle. She ran her hands over the smooth pale red silk, again and again, before lifting the parcel to her face to inhale deeply and rub it against her cheek. Only then, while cradling it in her lap, did she untie the knot and fold the cloth back. Her eyes widened, her breath caught. She slowly lifted the ivory and tortoiseshell comb, then the brush and matching hand mirror, both with grips of silver, examining them closely in turns. Delicate vines and leaves were engraved in the metal, the only adornment to the precious materials which were much more durable than the wood ones she kept wearing out. With quick fingers she undid the long single braid that hung to the small of her back, and experimentally tried the comb at her hair. A few strokes, then she switched to the brush.

She didn't stay long at this task before suddenly gathering up the bundle and rose. She padded over to the window and pushed it fully open. Von Krolock stayed very still in the shadow of the eaves; Sarah stood just a few scant feet away. For a moment she looked out into the night, a slight breeze playing through her undone hair and rippling her dress against her slight boyish frame. She reached out a hand, palm up, fingers slightly curled.

"I know you're out there," she whispered. "Thank you." She hugged the gifts to her chest with her other arm. "They're beautiful." One lone tear traveled down her cheek, leaving a clear glistening trail. So unlike his tears, which were tinged with blood. She bowed her head, hair curtaining her face.

What would it be like, von Krolock wondered, to hold her hand, and have her look into his eyes without fear? With great finesse, using the touch beyond human senses, he grazed invisible fingertips over her palm, her cheek, finally resting on the crown of her head like a priest giving benediction.

Sarah's open fingers closed, as if she were clasping an unseen hand. She lifted her head, eyes still shut, as a smile slowly curved her mouth. A clear thread of sound came from her throat as she began to sing, low and quiet.

"Esti ingerul meu

You're my angel

Esti tot ce mi-am dorit

You're all I ever wanted

Si iti promit, n-am sa te pierd

And I promise, I won't lose you

Esti ingerul meu

You're my angel

Si daca ma iubesti

And if you love me

Eu te primesc sa ma pazesti.

I receive you to protect me." **

Von Krolock slowly withdrew his unseen touch. No angel he, save an angel of death, keeping watch over a trusting child.

xxx

*Tăticul - Daddy, Romanian, Babylon online translator

**Esti Ingerul Meu - You're My Angel, by Directia 5, Romanian. (Yes, I totally cheated. This is not an old song but a modern one.)

A/N: "Beautiful child, Beautiful child, You are a beautiful child, And I am a fool once more..." Beautiful Child, Fleetwood Mac

The idea for the brush, comb & mirror gifts came from reading an anonymous discussion on Tumblr regarding von Krolock's motives behind his actions. The writer noticed Sarah's hand mirror and brush, which had grips of silver, in the German/Austrian productions, and speculated if they were gifts from the Count, as Sarah could not afford to buy them for herself and certainly it was highly unlikely that they came as gifts from her parents.

Thanks to Wolfs bane wicked for reviewing; it's nice to get feedback from readers :)