Chapter Nine: The Asylum

The little girl kept looking at him with her big brown eyes, which were overflowing with tears. Now that she had his attention, her expression changed again, into something he vaguely recognized.

It was a smile. He had seen those before, although rarely, but none of the smiles the gypsies had ever shown him filled his body with untold warmth.

But the little girl's could. It was even better than a roaring fire. Without realizing it, he smiled back at her.

Suddenly, the whip cracked over his back, and he yelped from the pain.

xxXxx

Maria Helena von Gikkingen was a beautiful middle-aged woman. Her skin was pale, a fact she blamed on hardly ever being allowed outside. When she was younger, nothing could have kept her indoors.

Such was no longer the case.

Maria stared longingly at the pictures in her nature book. Literature was one of the few privileges she had left, but there were days when it just increased her longing for the bright sunlight. She was allowed outside so little, these days. She sighed again, tracing the flower on the page with one finger. The other hand absently pulled on the sleeve of her long plain dress, trying desperately to ignore the steady banging from the other side of the wall. The maniac on the other side was quite fond of throwing himself against that wall.

But Maria would gladly choose that over the mindless laughter that drifted through the halls every night. She sighed again, wishing that she wasn't in a position to make a preference.

A polite knocking on the door disturbed her thoughts. "Lady Gikkingen?" her usual attendant asked politely as he opened the door. "Your nephew has sent word that he is coming to visit you today. Shall I see to a tea for you?"

"That would be wonderful, George," she said enthusiastically, closing her book.

Her nephew was the only family member she could stand anymore.

"Is there any way the tea can be outside?"

"I'm afraid not, my lady. The weather's turning foul, and Mr. Smith has forbidden anyone from going outside today."

Maria looked out her barred window, where she could see a storm brewing in the distance. "What a shame," she said with disappointment.

ooOoo

"Tell me more, Humbert," she urged him, taking a polite sip of her tea. "What else has been going on at the opera?"

He sighed. "I have told you everything I know about the ghost, Aunt Maria. But it appears that Uncle is far more illusive in death."

Maria laughed softly, her eyes dark with pain. "Did you bring that note for me?"

He stared at her in confusion.

"Come now. If you remembered to let your mother see it, you surely brought it for me. Your uncle was my husband, after all."

He cringed guiltily. "I'm afraid I didn't. Mother never gave it back, and she reacted poorly enough when she found out I was coming here again."

Maria fought to keep her face calm and detached, although her heart was surging with anger. "Perhaps you will remember next time you come to visit. Speaking of which, are you any closer to getting me out of here?"

Humbert's shoulders fell over slightly. "I'm afraid not. Every time I try, Mother gets her lawyer to come up with five different loopholes that force me to drop my case." He rubbed his saucer nervously, and opened his mouth.

"Don't," she warned him darkly. "Don't even suggest it."

He had suggested it far too many times already for her liking.

"Aunt Maria, it would make the negotiations easier for me. If you don't, there's a good chance that you will stay here until you die," he tried to reason.

She looked at him a little coldly, and folded her arms stubbornly across her chest. "Then I'll stay here. Not even my freedom is worth that."

Humbert looked at her helplessly, and put both hands to his head. "Aunt Maria, I want to help you, but I can't do it alone."

Maria sighed, and dismally bit her little sandwich. "At least you care enough to try. That's more than anyone else is willing to do for me."

Humbert nodded, his eyes still downcast. "Aunt Maria? We were pretty close before the accident, weren't we?"

"As close as your mother would allow us to be," the woman said darkly, running one hand through her long thick hair.

"I have to ask, Aunt Maria. Do… you remember a violinist, from the night Uncle died?"

She looked at him sharply. "Of course. If it weren't for him, I would have died with Humbert." 'There are times when I wish I had died, anyway.'

He looked relieved at her answer. "I knew Haru's father couldn't have been what Mother said."

"A killer, you mean? Don't tell me Ann's still harping about that," Maria groaned, rubbing her forehead tiredly.

Suddenly, she stiffened. "The violinist's little girl? You've seen her?"

"She's not little anymore," Humbert said dreamily. "She's the new diva at the opera house. Her voice easily outshines Milady Rosaline's."

Maria beamed. "That's wonderful. She was such a sweet child."

Humbert looked at her curiously. "Haru didn't mention that she met you."

She laughed lightly. "Just because you ask to know everything, doesn't mean that everything will be told, Humbert. Besides, I only saw her for a minute or so." Her rare smile deepened. "She was so proud of what her father did for me, she nearly burst."

"That hasn't changed noticeably, Aunt Maria. She became a little hostile when I confronted her about Mother's lies."

Nervously, he pulled out the simple handkerchief. "I may have forgotten the note, but I remembered this. Do you know this scent, Aunt Maria? It's familiar, but I can't remember why."

Curious, she reached across the table to take the item. She held it against her face, and inhaled deeply.

For a moment, she was stunned. She took a second sniff, as tears began to caress her cheeks. "Oh, you sweet, sweet child," she sobbed after a few minutes, holding the small cloth tightly against one cheek.

"Aunt Maria?" Humbert said worriedly, standing up from his chair.

"No, I'm fine," Maria sobbed, holding the handkerchief from her face to preserve the wonderful smell. "It's… just been so long since I've sampled this scent."

"What is it?" he asked again, walking around the table in order to hold her hand.

She gripped his hand tightly, and took in a deep breath. "When… your uncle was alive, I had a large flower garden, both in the back side of the town house and at the country manor. The most beautiful ones were my Polar Star Hybrids. My mother kept them in her garden when I was a child, just like her mother before her, as far back as our family can remember."

Humbert stared at her incredulously. "Is that the scent? How would Haru have that kind of flower?"

Maria pulled out her own handkerchief to dry her eyes. "Because I gave her a Polar Star, the night her father saved my life. I had one in my hair, and she was such a darling child that I couldn't resist giving it to her." She shook her head happily. "She must have found out how to grow them, to have this scent now. All this time, I thought my precious tea roses were gone forever."

Humbert kneeled at her side. "Whatever happened to your own roses, Aunt Maria?"

She glared angrily straight ahead of her. "Your mother never liked them, so she had them all burned after I was brought here. But I wouldn't be surprised if she did it just to hurt me."

Humbert growled under his breath, rising to his feet. "Just what started this feud between you and Mother? It's been going on since before I can remember."

Maria looked at him very seriously, and sighed. "Don't fret about it, Humbert. It was none of your doing."

ooOoo

It was very late, by the time Humbert returned home, his heart heavier than it had been when he left that morning. 'So it appears that Haru and I have not met before the performance. I wish I weren't so disappointed that the scent was truly from Aunt Maria. But then, it was pretty silly of me to think we had ever met. Oh, how I wish we had-'

"Ah, Humbert!" his mother said with an icy smile, turning around a corner. "It's about time you got home."

"You know how long the journey from the asylum takes," Humbert responded courteously, handing his coat and hat to a nearby maid.

"No. Actually I don't," she smirked, looking over her shoulder.

At her command, his advisor also came around the corner, coughing politely. "Your lordship has been neglecting his duties," he said politely, looking over a list. "Five of your estates are overdue for inspection."

"Can't you take care of that, Jonathan?" he pleaded, heading to the kitchen for a late supper.

"Most certainly not! As the Baron von Gikkingen, it is your obligation to personally check your holdings! Your uncle never shirked from this, and neither did your father!" Jonathan reminded him, panting from trying to keep up with the young lord.

Humbert sighed, and held a hand out for the list. He gave it a quick look over, and glared at his smirking mother. "Naturally, it would be the holdings farthest from the city. I'll be lucky if I get this all done before the opera's next performance."

"My, isn't that a coincidence?" she replied smugly.

"I wouldn't spend too much time congratulating yourself, if I were you, Mother. I will be at the performance, one way or another," Humbert swore, making a U-turn from the kitchen.

"Aren't you hungry, dear?" she called as he marched down another hallway.

"No longer. Good night, Mother."

ooOoo

Renaldo and Toto-

I'm sending the both of you this note to say I must cancel my previous plans to meet with you today. Certain familial obligations have risen that require my immediate attention, as much as I would love to ignore them until a later time.

I was unable to make contact with Haru, but you were probably aware of that by now. Please, apologize to her for me again, and possibly beg a favor?

My aunt gave a certain trinket to Haru several years back, and she has been sorely missing it ever since. Below is the address to the asylum, as well as her assigned room. Would you be good enough to ask her to send at least a sample of the trinket back to my aunt? I am willing to cover the cost if necessary. My aunt doesn't have much reason to smile these days, and seeing the trinket again will surely cheer her up.

I shall see all of you the night of the performance.

With gratitude,

Baron Humbert von Gikkingen II

P.S. Please don't forget to apologize to Haru for me. I was wrong to say what I did.