Author's Note: Due to the location of this chapter, the characters involved will not be speaking English. A translated version of the chapter can be found at the following URLs: #p567871 and .com/The_Black_?showtopic=4480&view=findpost&p=2300244. Also, thanks to henryjustice of Court Records for providing me with the translated dialogue.
Chapter 7—Limits
December 21, 2015
Beglückt darf nun dich, o Heimat, ich schauen
und grüßen froh deine lieblichen Auen;
nun laß ich ruhn den Wanderstab,
weil Gott getreu ich gepilgert hab.
A familiar chorus from Tannhäuser echoed through the halls of Manfred von Karma's Dresden mansion. The opera was Miles's personal favorite (next to Mazeppa, but in this house, praising "Russian cacophonies" was a greater taboo than tracking mud on the perfectly-made rugs that lined the center of the entry hall). Although the mansion itself had the appearance and interior of a Baroque palace, it was actually completely machine-made only five years ago. Every last millimeter of the structure had been done perfectly. There was not one flaw in the sculpting of the gargoyles on the balcony, the placement of the red bricks, the carving of intricate designs into the walls and ceiling.
Durch Sühn und Buß hab ich versöhnt
den Herren, dem mein Herze frönt,
der meine Reu mit Segen krönt,
den Herren, dem mein Lied ertönt,
The tapping of von Karma's cane on the floor above him reached Miles's ears. It was at a very precise tempo. The slow speed and perfect timing of the landing was proof that the cane itself was just for show—no one who actually needed a cane for walking would use it with such perfection. Miles stood still and waited for the sound to pass. He never liked visiting his "father." He had been invited over for Christmas and only accepted because he felt like visiting Germany again.
Von Karma himself was a terrifying man once one got to know him. Everything he did was so perfect and precise that he did not seem human. When anything caused a problem with his life, he would completely and utterly destroy it. Even Franziska and Therese, his own daughters, expressed difficulty in staying on his microscopic good side. A less-known fact was that he had a deep-running grudge against all things Russian. He was born and raised in East Germany under the red shadow of the Soviet Union. His parents both despised the Soviets—his father "disappeared" in 1967. All he knew about Germany's true history was told to him by his parents—both of whom had strongly supported the Führer from the beginning—after all, the family prospered greatly under him.
den Herren, dem mein Lied ertönt!
The orchestra joined the chorus, producing a marvelous accompaniment. The best part was next. Were no one else around, Miles would have sung along. It wasn't a behavior that went along with his outward personality, but it was something he liked to do when he was alone; it reminded him of his real father, who would often sing along when listening to opera in the car—if he knew the libretto, that is. However, since he knew von Karma would explode at him if he joined in, Miles simply sang along in his mind.
Der Gnade Heil ist dem Büßer beshieden,
er geht einst ein in der Seligen Frieden;
vor Höll und Tod ist ihm nicht bang,
drum preis ich Gott mein Lebelang.
Miles's mental singing was interrupted when he heard the sound of Franziska's high heels muffled by the soft rug. Knowing better than to stand in her way, Miles stepped to one side—just in time, too, apparently, as Franziska's whip hit the spot where he was standing a moment ago with a loud whack.
"Franziska!" von Karma yelled from wherever he was. "Du übertönst die Musik!"
Halleluja!
Halleluja
in Ewigkeit!
in Ewigkeit!
"Nach dir," Miles said softly to Franziska, motioning for her to go ahead. It was a rule at von Karma's mansion. When you're on German soil, you speak German.
"Es ist unhöflich, sich in den Weg zu stellen, Miles Edgeworth," Franziska responded at the same volume with her usual superior tone of voice. She would almost always tell her victims why she whipped them, literally adding insult to injury.
"Deswegen trat ich zur Seite, als ich dich kommen hörte." Miles was tempted to add "und jetzt versperrst du den Weg," but he knew that that would be answered with the whip.
"Ruhe!" von Karma shouted. Miles thought they were speaking quietly, but apparently they were not quiet enough. Miles simply motioned for Franziska to pass, which she did. Miles then went to his room to get his coat and snow boots. After putting them on, he went to the garden. He wouldn't have to worry about disturbing his "father" there, even if it was below freezing out there. Besides, dinner would be ready soon, so he didn't expect to be out there for long.
A light blanket of snow—about half an inch or so—covered the plants. The brick path was completely devoid of snow, however. All of the snow from the path had been made into a snowman by Therese's daughter, Birgit. The snowman was rather plain, however, as von Karma had not allowed his granddaughter to use branches from the plants or pebbles from the planters as body parts. As such, much of the body was carefully crafted from the snow.
"Miles Edgeworth," a male voice said. "Bist du es?" Miles turned his head. It was Tobias Becker, Therese's husband.
"Es ist lange her gewesen, Herr Becker," Miles said.
"Hah! Ich sehe, dein Akzent ist derselbe, der er mal war."
Miles did not respond. It was true that he had a horrible accent when speaking German, but he did not like being reminded of that fact.
"Entschuldigung," Becker said.
"Was machst du draußen? Es friert unten." Miles would have thought he would be the only one outside. However, there was Becker, out in the cold.
"Im Vergleich drinnen mit Graf Perfekt zu sein, würde ich liebe frieren."
Of course, Miles thought. Von Karma got along with Becker about as well as he got along with Miles's father. Becker was a lowly factory worker while Manfred was the world's best—and wealthiest—prosecutor. Both of them did not hesitate to play off of the other's weaknesses. Von Karma frequently accused Becker of marrying Therese just to get a part of the von Karma family fortune. Becker, on the other hand, would often say that von Karma would place a wealthy alcoholic above a low-born visionary. Of course, their conflicting personalities only worsened the conflict. Becker was lighthearted and kind while von Karma was cold and serious. Fortunately, their arguments were always verbal only. Becker had no interest in violence, and von Karma said he would not waste his perfect cane on someone so worthless.
"Vater, Herr Edgeworth!" a voice called from the door to the mansion. Miles looked over and saw a little girl standing in the doorway—Birgit. "Es ist Essenszeit!!"
Miles walked in after Becker and followed him to the dining hall. A white tablecloth covered the long table. The table was much longer than necessary; only six people were over including von Karma himself, yet there was enough room for at least twenty people. Von Karma was standing at his end of the table, waiting for everyone else to arrive. Though he was not a polite man, he observed perfect table manners. When everyone was at their seat, he motioned for everyone to sit down.
"Guten appetit," von Karma said before serving himself. Everyone else started serving themselves, as well.
"So, Herr Edgeworth," Therese started, "Ich höre, du hast eine Verlobte?" She had probably heard about the engagement from Franziska.
"Hatte," Miles corrected. "Etwas kam zur Sprache, also mussten wir unsere Verlobung für die Zeit abbrechen." No need to go into detail.
"Wer?"
"Eine Frau namens Lana Skye."
"Lana?" von Karma cut in. "Das ist ein komischer Name." Miles mentally braced himself for a tirade about Russians.
"Es ist die Kurzform von Swetlana," Miles replied.
Von Karma pounded the table with his left fist, startling everyone there except Miles, who knew it was coming.
"Eine Russin?!" he bellowed.
"Nur von der Abstammung," Miles responded, taking special care not to raise his voice and further upset his host. It was true that Lana was of Russian descent, but she was born and raised in the US.
"Hah! 'Nur von der Abstammung?'" Von Karma snapped his fingers. "Therese wurde in Amerika geboren, und bis jetzt ist ihre Abstammung deutlich in ihrem Benehmen wiedergespiegelt!"
"Herr von Karma, obwohl du mein Mentor für Anklage bist, kannst du mir nicht lehren, wie ich mein Leben lebe." Considering that Lana's mother had defected and her father was a third-generation American, Miles did not see how Lana's descent made her dangerous. Still, it was better just to try to change the subject than get into an argument. "Ich bin nicht interessiert, über die Frau, die ich liebe, zu streiten, also wechsle bitte das Thema."
"Pah! Was weißt du schon über Liebe?!" von Karma demanded, trying to push into an argument.
"Genug, um zu wissen, wenn ich verliebt bin," Miles answered, maintaining a calm tone. This was getting ridiculous. First it was about Lana being Russian, then it changed to Miles's knowledge of love (or lack thereof).
"Alle Russinen sind dieselben—verführen gestandene Männer, bis sie so hilflos verlockt von ihnen sind, dass sie alles tun." Great. Now he was spewing out fallacies. No matter; von Karma had no proof that Russian women were the way he pictured them.
"Vater, hör bitte auf," Therese requested, trying to mimic the calm in Miles's voice, but clearly somewhat upset at her father's behavior.
"Ich würde gerne das Thema wechseln und einfach essen," Miles added. "Kein Streit wird ändern, was ich über Lana denke."
"Akzeptiert," Therese said.
"Mutter, was ist eine Russin?" Birgit asked, her curiosity and ignorance making her unaware of how much that worsened von Karma's mood. Her grandfather was the first to respond.
"Russen sind grausame Menschen die uns Deutschen für Jahrhu—"
"Vater, das ist genug!" Therese interrupted. "Lass und einfach das Thema wechseln."
"Aber was ist ein Russe?" Birgit insisted.
"I werde dir mehr erzählen, nachdem wir entschuldigt sind," Therese told her daughter. "Aber sei jetzt bitte geduldig. Dein Großvater mag Russen nicht, also sollten wir nicht über sie reden, wenn er in der Nähe ist."
That's an understatement, Miles thought. He began eating, hoping that that would be enough to tell von Karma that he was done arguing.
Von Karma glared at Miles, but decided he wasn't going to win and began eating. Everyone else took the hint and began eating, as well. Occasionally, Birgit was reprimanded for putting her hands below the table or other minor breaches of dining etiquette. Other than that, the dinner table remained silent until everyone was excused.
"Herr Edgeworth," von Karma called before Miles could leave the dining hall.
"Ja?"
"Erwähne Russland nicht nochmal in diesem Haus. Ich würde dir auch sehr empfehlen, Swetlana zu vergessen."
I knew he would bring up Lana, Miles thought.
"Ich werde Russland nicht mehr erwähnen," Miles started, "aber meine Romanze geht dich nichts an."
"Bah. So stolz wie eh und je." Von Karma shook his head.
Well, I've learned from the master, Miles thought.
"Offen gesagt, I hatte genug von deinem Stolz gehabt," von Karma continued. "Lerne, bescheiden zu sein oder verlasse mein Haus."
"Wenn du mit 'lerne, bescheiden zu sein' meinst, Lana fallen zu lassen, dann erscheint es mir, dass ich nicht mehr willkommen bin."
"Vater, hör auf, dies anzusprechen," Therese said. Miles and von Karma had been so focused on each other that neither had noticed her. "Ich mag Russland auch nicht, aber du hast nicht das Recht, dich in Herrn Edgeworths Leben einzumischen."
"Du auch, Therese?" von Karma growled, turning to his daughter.
"Therese, ich brauche hier deine Unterstützung nicht," Miles said. "Es scheint mir, dass unser Gastgeber mich nicht mehr willkommen sieht." Miles extended his hand for von Karma. "Danke sehr für the Bewirtung, Herr von Karma," Miles said. "Ich entschuldige mich, nicht ein besserer Gast gewesen zu sein."
Von Karma refused Miles's hand and simply crossed his arms. "Versuch nicht, ritterlich daherzukommen," he sneered. "Du hast mich schon beleidigt. Nimm einfach deinen Kram und hau ab."
"So ist es. Bis wir uns wieder treffen." Miles walked away to the room he was staying in and started packing his belongings. He had had a feeling he would get into an argument with von Karma, so he had been prepared. He took a piece of paper with a phone number out of his pocket and called the number.
"Hallo, Hotel Taschenbergpalast?" he said into his cell phone. "Ist die Kronprinzensuite noch verfügbar?"