WARNINGS: mentions of drug use,
drinking/bars in this chapter
READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
The pattern of interaction between Wyn and Chibitalia stayed the same deep into August, and though the room was often stuffy, Chibitalia made a point to visit her daily between her duties. But whenever the sweet girl mentioned Roderich's intended message to Wyn, she stopped her. Chibitalia ate most of Wyn's meals, and her news and view of the world kept Wyn a little more alive everyday.
"Oh, I wish you'd hear Mister Austria's words for once!" Chibitalia cried out one day. "He's changed so much. He's so kind but busy and he's in love with Miss Hungary!"
Wyn stopped eating and stared at Chibitalia in astonishment. Had her self-punishment finally taught Roderich something? She could hardly dare to hope. In her months of confinement, she had made peace with herself and with her future. She had given up Gilbert; she was content knowing he could be happy, even if she wasn't the one he was happy for or about.
But if he came running back to her...Wyn would refuse him even if the world was ending and they were dying. She had a script, a practiced set of lines, that she had promised herself she would follow.
Maybe it was time for change once more to sweep her world, to stop living in her darkness.
Chibitalia's words gave her hope but could Roderich really be changed by a foreign girl and love?
You changed for love once, Wyn reminded herself. Even if it was so long ago, why should it be so different for him? Are you so selfish as to deny love to the one who took away yours with such little thought?
Yes, that and more, Wyn said silently.
"I don't want to hear," Wyn said.
"But you should! Your happiness is the only thing that he wants now, not your love!" And the girl began to cry, voice contorting.
"Come on," Wyn said gruffly, and picked up the girl and began clearing away the fort she had built against the doors. It was time to leave the walls and see her land again; it was a time to be recreated and reborn in this beginning of autumn. It was time to break free and sound the trumpets of war once more.
Wyn made her way briskly through the familiar halls, surprised at the changes Elizaveta had brought. The palace was light and airy, smelling fresh and homey, and glowed with love. Fresh flowers scented each room and were strategically laid out along the halls, and Chibitalia began to giggle, as if she knew a secret.
She leapt down from Wyn's grasp and hurried to a door. "Come on, Wyn, you should meet my friend!"
Wyn grudgingly followed, wondering who it was. Maybe Elizaveta, but certainly not Roderich!
She entered a lavish room trimmed with gold and ivory, and she could hear Chibitalia's gleeful laugh. She followed the sound through a maze of unfamiliar apartments and stopped at the tall doors. They were left slightly open and Chibitalia was inside, laughing with two other familiar voices joining hers in a chorus of soprano, alto, and bass.
Wyn smoothed down the new, light blue silk organza gown, grateful she had changed and readied herself that morning. She couldn't wait to see who they were; friendly faces were what she needed to feed her soul's discomfort after over a year in Roderich's clutches. Bittersweet words formed in her mouth as she wished Gilbert were there, too.
Would they still remember her? Would she still recognize them?
What if they weren't who she thought they were?
She threw the doors open, and her knees buckled with happiness.
Holy Roman Empire was propped up on plush pillows, laughing and bandaged, at what Chibitalia was saying. Wyn never saw him laugh, only saw him as the cruel figurehead of the Germanic family. And on the other side of him, dressed in a radiant scarlet waistcoat and black pants, was someone she loved as much as Gilbert.
"Christoph," Wyn murmured, and began sobbing where she was on the floor.
"Schwester, (1)" Christoph rushed to her side, helping her into the sofa that faced Holy Roman Empire's bed. He kissed her on the forehead and wiped her tears with a soft lace-trimmed handkerchief, holding it to her nose and commanding her to blow into it. The motion was a comfort, reminding Wyn of the Germanic family before-
"Günther?" she asked hopefully.
"Dead," Christoph confirmed. The word was a sharp ache, a reminder that those happy times were past. But here was her bruder, strong and able and reliable, hair still in a messy ponytail, handsome and holding her. He was almost as good as having Günther, with his comforting presence.
"The others-" Wyn sniffled and tried to breathe as her life began to build itself up again.
"Vash has Lili hidden somewhere. He's really paranoid about keeping her safe," Christoph began. "His weapon development is truly remarkable. So is his security.
"Berwald is on his own. I haven't heard from him in a long time, now that you remind me.
"Gilbert…" Christoph took a long look at his sister, studying her reaction. Should he tell her?
By her somber expression, he decided it might do her some good. But later.
"I've been alright," Christoph confessed. "Just paying my visits and finding information about our family wherever I go."
"Found any girls yet?" Wyn asked, trying to sound lighthearted. "I still can't believe mein handsome bruder is still single!"
The country of Hesse grunted. "I meet girls all the time. But ja, I did see one. She was picking up her half-mad older bruder from the opium dens. I shouldn't have been in that part of the city anyways."
He scowled and Wyn slowly smiled. "Their names?"
"Belgium and Netherlands," Christoph snorted. "A beautiful girl with wavy hair glossy like silk, with a will stronger than iron. The brother was wasted. Tall and broad-shouldered, always smoking an opium pipe. Blond hair that sticks up. Both have beautiful ice-green eyes, paler than summer leaves. Named Bella and Lars Morgens. You should know them through Anto-"
He stopped himself from further referring to Wyn's now-hated love. Spain, France, and Prussia were stalwart friends and supporters- an alliance between the three was deadly to their combined enemy.
"Tell us what you've been up to, Wyn," Holy Roman Empire said lightheartedly.
Wyn's face contorted and went hard once more as she faced her siblings. "I was a slave. I was a pawn. I was toyed with and humiliated.
"And I intend to leave."
Roderich's apologies to Wyn meant nothing to her, just empty words. She yearned for freedom, for a new life. She was eager to leave the fragile alliance formed by Roderich and all those who lived under his wing at Schönbrunn.
But how would she bring around enough conflict to turn the tables?
Wyn had changed; her country and their people had changed as well. She was hungry for revenge, to taste from the pool of death once more. Too long had she been silent. This was what her people called for.
Formulating her plan, Roderich let her leave without a word. Dressed in a variation of her old clothes brought by Christoph, she set out to change fate and her own destiny.
As she stepped into the familiar bar, she knew it had seen better days. The sign of Seven Promises was faded and creaking as she approached her destination.
Wyn was looking for one person in particular, eager to see him. If he still came.
She surveyed the crowded tavern, glad that she wouldn't stand out in this crowd of misfits. She sat in an empty stool by the bar, lifting the hood of her cloak and revealing her silver hair, earning a gasp from many of the guests.
The bartender appeared in front of her, showering her with blessings. "You're a legend, Wyn Meier. My great, great-uncle told me about you. We're very happy to serve you in out humble establishment!"
Wyn's eyes widened. She was gone for over a hundred years in human time. They still remembered her? "I'm glad to hear that," She slowly smiled, "actually, I'm thrilled. Beer for everyone, on mich (2)!"
The crowd eagerly toasted her and the bartenders and maids scurried around, passing drinks to their crowd. Tips were slipped into jingling pockets, and Wyn knew she had done the right thing, judging by the many smiling faces in the room.
An older man, probably a relative of the bartender who had recognized her, was the only one who noticed she had barely sipped her mug of alcohol. "Somethin' wrong, Miss Meier?"
Wyn smiled at the gentleman, grateful for his observational skills. She needed to know if he would come, and it wasn't right for her to pull over any bartender in particular. "No, but I'm waiting for someone. Would you by any chance recognize the usual comers?"
"No one ought to drink alone, anyways," he said matter-of-factly. "Sure I do. We're missing a dozen of the usuals, give or take, this early."
"Do you know a Kirkland in there? Allistor Kirkland?" Wyn pressed him.
"Oh, he's coming," The proprietor said, rolling his eyes. "Can drink more than any of us human boys. Brings a show, too, with that last brother. Never fails to make money from them, alright."
"Thank you," Wyn smiled and pressed a coin in his hand. She had smiled more in this early night than she had in all her years of confinement at Roderich's.
It was only nine, anyways, and the good drinkers wouldn't appear before eleven. Being one herself, Wyn knew the ins and outs of drinking.
She made herself comfortable and slipped her hood back on, listening to the chatter of all mundane things, grateful for the news she was absorbing, and ordered a pork roast dinner to go with the beer.
His presence made Wyn's heart race gleefully and giddily, like a schoolgirl in love. Allistor's fiery red hair and willful personality were framed by a smart cobalt uniform with a pair of white crossed sashes on his chest. On a leather belt hung an empty pair of scabbards for his dirk (3) and saber. Weapons weren't permitted at the Seven Promises.
Following Allistor were four other young men that shared variations of Allistor's eye-catching dark green orbs, crackling with fire. Obviously brothers, they all wore variations of uniforms in different shades, and fine black leather gloves. The first had dark hazel hair, with sea-green eyes, expressionless, but Wyn knew his smile was always contagious. The second and third, twins, had shades of muted brown-orange hair that reminded Wyn of fall. The elder of the two had olive eyes and the younger, bayou eyes, so mixed with green and browns and blacks that Wyn almost couldn't describe them.
Wyn broke into a smile at seeing the last of the handsome Kirklands: a shorter boy, with dirty-blond hair, and the brightest green eyes she had ever seen, followed his older brothers in the omega position of the family. He had grown up.
Wyn sipped from her refilled tankard and turned. A short game of cat and mouse, like they used to play, would determine everything that had happened while she was gone.
Listening to the delighted squeals of the barmaids, Wyn knew the brothers often frequented Seven Promises. After settling down on the other side of the bar, Allistor began to whisper into the ear of the prettiest barmaid, who giggled and whispered back. Then she huffed and stormed away, but not without a playful slap on her rear from Conan Kirkland, or Ireland, the player and pervert of the family.
The barmaid, in turn, told a bartender and walked away in a huff to serve other guests.
A shotglass was slid towards Wyn without any further delays, and a smile played at her lips. "Just what I've been waiting for," she said to the bartender.
He polished a glass as he spoke. "From the gent with the fire hair, wants to know if you'll take a drink with him, like old times."
Wyn paused to slowly lift her hood, knowing eyes were fixed on her.
"Tell him I'd love to."
It's all a game we play, don't you see?
Won't you take a drink with me?
Wyn raised the glass, toasted Allistor, and knew she had caught his eye once more. It would be at least a few days before he would come over and talk to her; yes, she knew the way her former drinking partner liked his girls. He would make the first move.
Wyn was glad for the distraction. She could stay a few nights.
Let's have a drink,
A strong and bitter drink like your heart.
Let's have a drink
…that will turn your heart back to me.
Then if you get drunk
Will you hug me? Will you come back to me?
Let's have a drink all night, (4)
Just the Two of Us.
(1) sister
(2) me
(3) Scottish dagger
(4) Take A Drink Together (Just the Two of Us) by Davichi
I AM AWESOME! (almost as much as Prussia.)
Lots of words, some suspense, and meddling in war is always fun. Hope you enjoyed this long awaited chapter! Over 2000 words took a long time to write...I needed some suspense but had to wrap up some stuff. The coming chapters will be more mature, but not enough to change the rating to M.
A final war (The War of Austrian Succession) will end this book and then we'll be into Jaded!
Please READ AND REVIEW! :)
