Chapter 55 His Victory
Yes, I'm back! This is from Gilbert's point of view about the last chapter. Warning for anti-Polish language.
He had finally seen the light go out of her eyes.
Gilbert had seen it even in the middle of her tears and protests. She could curse and insist he was wrong all she wanted, he realized, but he didn't believe her. She didn't even believe it. All her noise was like a machine's final grinding and screeching before the gears gave out. But still, she had gone on, until he had been forced to be blunt. Only then had she surrendered.
Of course, he had lied. What else could he do with such an opportunity? He had wheedled out the truth about her visit to Posen, had drawn out her fears, and attacked. That's what one did when the enemy revealed an weakness, ja? And he had always been admired and feared for his swiftness on the battlefield.
Gilbert lit a cigar and leaned back in his office chair, resting his feet upon his desk. He admired the smoke he exhaled. Ja, he thought, he had broken her foolish resistance and stubborn delusions about Poland's love for her. Convincing her she was better off as a German entity would only be a matter of time. Then she would be completely his, grateful and tame. Poland could even pull a phoenix-like revival and claim a place among the nations, but this time his so-called sister would refuse to join him. Ja, he thought, it had been a good night's work.
So why did he feel uneasy?
He shifted and tried to push away the nagging emotions and thoughts. Ja, he had been cruel, but he had to be with such a stubborn, deluded female. He had tried kindness first, tried to be sympathetic to her sorrow, even as he had introduced his lies. He had only threatened violence; he wouldn't actually force her against her will. Well, he wouldn't unless she rallied and refused to accept defeat. Then if he had to, it would be her own fault.
But a little voice whispered in his head. You hurt her. Of course I did, he retorted. He didn't want to; he would have preferred kindness and a tender acceptance of her surrender, but she had been so stubborn, so blind to the reality he was presenting to her, he had had no choice. Her delusions had to be defeated by his, because how else could he achieve his goals?
You hurt her. You claim to love her and you treat her as your enemy. The voice grew stronger, more recognizable. Gilbert shuddered. It was Ludwig's voice. He recalled the conversation they had had over a year ago, when the German Empire had challenged him about his treatment of Danzig.1 The anxiety he had felt then now returned. He had pleaded with Ludwig that he would treat the city better, and he had, hadn't he? Ja, he had lost his temper with her a couple of times, but he hadn't beaten or degraded her. In fact, he had actually been very patient and kind with her, trying to use reason and persuasion to get her to will the West Prussians into accord with the May Laws. He couldn't help it if she were such a deceitful, weak-minded female. Always wavering between him and her arrogant, foolish brother, insisting on her Polishness at the worst time possible, sobbing as she clung to useless beliefsā¦
An image of Danzig's face flashed before his eyes. She was flushed, puffy-eyed, and tear-streaked, begging him not to call her a whore. He had once longed to see her in such a fashion, imagining the triumph he would feel at her debasement. It had aroused him in the past. But now, he felt nothing; actually he did feel something, a cold dread welling up in his stomach and crawling through his limbs. He felt guilt, and shame.
He had broken her. The truth didn't feel so pleasing this time. He had taken any potential for playfulness, affection, or desire and destroyed it. It was like taking a mischievous puppy and throwing it against a wall: a living creature turned into a limp, broken body. He pinched his lips together, disgusted by the image. He couldn't imagine Danzig rallying from this night. She was broken all right, an automaton with damaged gears, unable to perform her part.
Stop dwelling on this, he scolded himself. She wanted to insist she was a Pole? Fine, she was one, and everyone knew they were the cockroaches of Europe. You couldn't destroy them if you tried. Mein Gott, her brother didn't exist as a country anymore, and yet he still lingered about to annoy him and Russia! She would be fine, Gilbert told himself. She would cry and sulk like the weak female she was, but she would be back to her old tricks in a couple of days.
He grew tired of his cigar and stubbed it out. She'll be fine, he insisted to himself, but he felt as if he were whistling in the dark. This time, there had been no steel-gray hatred flashing in her eyes. They had been water-logged and flat, the Baltic Sea on a windless, overcast day. No roaring waves, no shimmering in the light, just dead. He would have to go and comfort her, he thought, coax her into seeing the best of the situation, view him as her sole friend and savior. He would be especially gentle and patient, he vowed. But the thought of seeing her again unnerved him a little. Why? He scolded himself. She was a weak, broken female, entirely at his mercy. This should be easy. But the image of a lifeless puppy's body returned to him and he realized how sick it would make him feel to see her in the morning. He would give her time, he decided, time to pull herself together and resign herself to her fate. Then he would see her, forcing a forgiving smile on his face, plying her with compliments, trinkets and new promises. Ja, he decided. It would be generous of him to give her some time to mourn before he worked on her again. He would do that. Gilbert settled back in his chair. It was decided. There was no need to think about the problem any further. But he did.
He had seen the light go out in her eyes, and he wasn't sure he liked it.
I'm sorry I've been away for so long. I had a rough personal situation in September and October, and I also had lots of grading to do this semester. It seemed like I was getting a new batch of essays every week, and it was exhausting. But I didn't forget about this story and I am going to enjoy writing and posting new updates over our winter break. I hope you are still interested in "The Pet" and I look forward to your responses to this chapter and upcoming ones.
1 See "The Pet", Chapter 48 His Love.
