The next morning, Kristoph blinked in surprise to see that the key was still underneath his pillow. In the first few minutes of waking up, part of him felt like the events of the previous day were a dream induced by wishful thinking, but the smooth, silvery prize told him otherwise.
Still, he couldn't waste time gloating; there was a very narrow timeframe to work with, after all. He pushed himself out of bed and dressed quickly before heading downstairs. Konstantin was meeting with another judge this morning, which would give Kristoph a few hours to explore uninterrupted.
That was the plan, anyway. Which was soon broken to pieces by four little words: "Kriiiiiis, I need help!"
Kristoph's grip on the banister tightened. He was so close. "I'm busy," he snapped.
"But I really, really need help! I don't understand this division stuff," Klavier said, waving a math worksheet in the air for emphasis.
"I can help you later," Krisoph said impatiently, glancing wistfully up the staircase. "Just not now."
"But it needs to be now," Klavier insisted. "Mama's taking me shopping at noon, and she says we won't be back until late at night."
A wave of bitterness swept through Kristoph. "Sounds like that's your problem."
"Pleeeeease," Klavier begged. "I need you!"
Against his better judgment, Kristoph's eyes drifted towards the large grandfather clock standing against the wall. If his father was gone for a few hours, he should theoretically have enough time to help Klavier while also looking through the North Room.
Kristoph wasn't sure if his brother was being intentionally manipulative, or if Kristoph was just projecting. But either way, Klavier knew the right words to say.
"...Fine."
As much as Kristoph hated to admit it, being the only one who could help Klavier made him feel important, like he had some control over his younger brother in a world where he was largely powerless. As he watched his little brother look at him with eyes full of adoration, Kristoph couldn't help but bask in that sense of pleasure and power.
Unfortunately, the tutoring session took far longer than Kristoph thought it would. Apparently, Klavier failed to grasp even the most basic concepts that they were working on for so long. Kristoph didn't bother asking Klavier how he managed to forget the fundamentals, fearing that mindless conversation would take away from the precious time he needed.
As they were (finally) nearing what Kristoph hoped was the end, Sophia popped her head into the doorway with a tray of pastries. "You boys seem to be working hard. How about a little snack to tide you over until supper?"
Kristoph opened his mouth to say that won't be necessary, but Klavier already pounced on the tray with the eagerness of a starving cat on a mouse. "They're really good, Kris," he said through mouthfuls of apple strudel.
Kristoph's lips twisted in disgust. Something his father said years ago made him feel self-conscious about eating while other people watched, especially when it came to sweets. "I'm sure they are, but I'm full," he lied. "We're done here, anyway."
Sophia tilted her head and looked at the eldest Gavin son, eyes shining with sympathy and understanding. Kristoph felt like grabbing the tray and smashing it against the wall.
"If you're finished, would you mind helping me with the sheets, Master Kristoph? I'd like to avoid making two trips, if possible."
When Kristoph was younger, Sophia would often ask him to assist her in completing tasks around the house. She had an uncanny knack for knowing whenever he was upset—which was often, especially in childhood—and Kristoph was only just realizing that they were attempts to distract from whatever sadness was plaguing him.
But he wasn't a child anymore. He was fifteen, and knew now that helping a maid was below his station.
Which was why he was surprised when he heard himself say, "Alright."
Sophia beamed, and Krisoph tried to force himself to feel annoyed, but couldn't. While Klavier continued to munch away happily, Kristoph and Sophia went back into the hallway, where the sheets were being kept in large plastic bags. Sophia grabbed one, and Kristoph bent down to pick up the other.
As they walked down the stairs to the laundry room, Kristoph considered giving the key to Sophia, but ultimately decided against it. While that would be the easier, wiser choice, it wouldn't give him the satisfaction he needed.
"It's so nice to see you helping Master Klavier after all these years," she said as she turned the water to the washing machine on. "He adores you."
At least someone does. Kristoph shrugged and tried to look nonchalant, but was inwardly pleased. "I'm just doing what any brother would."
Sophia smiled wryly. "You would think so, but we both know that isn't often the case."
Kristoph peered at her curiously. He suspected this was a reference to Konstantin's older brother, Konrad, a man Kristoph never met but was always curious about. After the death of their father, there was a dispute regarding the inheritance, and Konrad mysteriously fell off a balcony a few days later. While Konstantin was considered a suspect, there was never any definitive proof that he did it, and he was exonerated. That being said, Kristroph fully believed Konstantin was the culprit, and suspected everyone else in Gavin Manor felt the same.
"Siblings are important," Sophia continued, unscrewing the detergent and pouring it into the washing machine. "It's easy to get overwhelmed or upset, or feel like everything's about to break. Siblings remind us of what's worth fighting for, and can inspire us to do what's necessary to make sure all is well."
Kristoph didn't have the patience to dance around the implication. "Are you implying something about my family? There are no problems in the Gavin household."
Sophia hesitated, and for a moment, Kristoph thought she would back off. But she didn't.
"Everyone has problems, Master Kristoph," she said gently. "Some, more than others. It isn't fair, but it's the hand we're dealt. There's no shame in admitting it." Yes there is. "In fact, admitting it and facing it head-on is often the responsible thing to do. Your grandfather—"
"My grandfather was weak, and a fool," Kristoph said firmly, echoing the words his father had drilled into his head since the moment Kristoph was able to speak.
"No, he wasn't," Sophia insisted as she pushed the laundry into the washing machine. Kristoph was taken aback; Sophia never challenged him—or any of the Gavins—directly. Before he could decide what emotion he should be feeling, Sophia continued. "I never met the man myself, but from what I heard about your grandfather, he was a good man. He was plagued with the same demons as your father, but knew that ignoring them could cause harm to come to his children or himself, and—"
"—and brought shame to the family," Kristoph hissed, eyes narrowing.
"—and was able to keep those demons in check by accepting help. Something I wish your father would—"
Kristoph's temper flared and he felt an instinctive, irrational urge to defend his father. "You're overstepping your bounds, Sophia. I refuse to hear another minute of this nonsense."
Sophia looked stricken as Kristoph turned around and began to storm away. "W-wait! I apologize, Master Kristoph. Perhaps I approached this the wrong way."
You think? Nonetheless, he stopped near the doorway. "You're saying I'll inherit my father's"—what would he even call it?—"problems? That's why you brought me here?"
"N-no, that's not it," she rushed to assure him. "You've had to deal with so much at such a young age. I just wanted to say that…if…you fear you'll fall down a similar path to Master Konstantin, it would do you well to consider how those actions might affect Master Klavier, as well as yourself. Sometimes our connection with others is what inspires us to take the steps into the light."
"Of course," Kristoph replied slowly, voice dripping with venom. "I wouldn't want to do anything that might inconvenience poor Klavier." Like he doesn't have enough people bending over backwards for him already.
He turned around again, ready to leave, but Sophia said one more thing that gave him pause. "Even Lady Katharina struggles, Master Kristoph. There's an emptiness in her that's been there for some time. I don't want the same to happen to you."
"There are no problems in Gavin Manor," Kristoph practically spat. This time, when he left the room he didn't look back.
Maybe if he said it enough times, he'd start to believe it.
Still steaming from the conversation with Sophia, Kristoph quietly crept up the many flights of stairs. With each step, his anger receded more and more, only to be replaced by a wave of restlessness and nerves. Biting his lip, he wondered–-not for the first time—if he should abandon his quest entirely.
No, it has to be me. If I'm going through all this trouble, I deserve the recognition.
After what seemed like hours of plodding up the stairs, Kristoph finally reached the North Room. It was at the very end of the hallway; a splash of pure white in a hall of gray. Gently resting his hand on the doorknob, Kristoph took a deep breath before inwardly admonishing himself. It's just a door. There's no need to get worked up about it. Still, the simple white door ignited an ominous feeling in Kristoph as he reached into his pocket to get the key. He scowled when he realized his hands were shaking. Since when was Kristoph Gavin such a coward?
It's better to just get this over with.
Kristoph shoved the silver key in the keyhole, and pushed the door open.
The first thing Kristoph noticed was that the room was lighter and much larger than he expected. There was a skylight that encompassed the entire ceiling, letting light from the heavens illuminate the darkness. Nevertheless, Kristoph tugged on a small chain dangling from a nearby lamp, and within a second, the room was lit completely. The walls and floor were white like the door, and paintings of saints and angels decorated the walls. White was the main color palette throughout the room, with the exception of a black blanket covering a stack of rectangular objects propped against the wall. Near the back of the room stood an old mahogany desk with various papers spread out on top of it. A golden crucifix was sitting on top of the papers, right in front of a small statue of the Virgin Mary. An easel was placed right by the desk, with its back facing Kristoph.
It suddenly dawned on Kristoph that he had absolutely no idea what the item he was searching for was. He always just assumed that he would recognize it when he found it, but now a sudden feeling of helplessness threatened to overtake him.
Well, it's not like there's a lot of places to look.
Kristoph walked over to the desk and pulled one of the small knobs. Aside from a silver pen and a small glass bottle, the drawer was empty. Kristoph frowned. He tried pulling the next drawer open, and then the next, but to no avail. All the drawers were empty, or had some common, useless item he was sure did not belong to Katharina. Kristoph sighed in frustration. He was wasting time. He needed the item, and needed it quickly. He picked up the golden crucifix from the desk and turned it over, wondering if this was the trinket she was looking for. To his disappointment, the crucifix had Konstantin's name carved in the back in small letters. As he was about to place the crucifix back on the desk, a name on one of the papers caught his eye and he stopped. Katharina.
Kristoph quickly glanced over the papers scattered chaotically about the desk. Some papers were scripted neatly, while others were written in a messy scrawl. A few pages had words covering nearly every inch of the paper, while others had only a few sentences written on them. From what Kristoph could tell, these pages were part of a journal of some sort. The perfectionist part of his mind wanted to gather all the papers together in one neat pile, but the realist in him told him that it was better to just glance over the papers to receive a hint as to where the trinket was, and then get the fuck out of there. Kristoph picked up a sheet of paper that was legible, and read it.
3/25/08
7:57 PM
Today was a relatively enlightening day, all things considered. This morning, the new pastor gave a particularly stirring sermon regarding the Devil and the many forms he takes. I feel this sermon is especially relevant to my own life, given the misfortune I've been troubled by recently.
(Unfortunately, the church seems to have rejected my suggestion of separating pews by social class. If this is how they treat the valid concerns of their parishioners, I see no reason for me to continue attending. My understanding of scripture is far superior to the pastor's, anyway.)
Upon returning to the manor, I immediately made haste to this very room, where I continued to paint my masterpiece. Although pride can easily lead to temptation, I feel I can safely say that my paintings are the most stunning in all of Germany, if not the entirety of Europe. The gorgeous mix of yellow and red is simply breathtaking…
The letter continued to go on like that for the rest of the page. Kristoph threw the letter on the desk in disgust before picking up a shorter, slightly sloppier one.
3/28/08
8:39
Today I find myself in distress, to put it mildly. For the first time in a long time, I felt a powerful presence in this very room, as my father and father's father had before me. I am not certain as to its origin; however, I can only assume this is the work of either God or the Devil. I am more inclined to believe the nature of this apparition is heavenly as opposed to demonic, considering the warning it gave me. The voice instructed me to be wary of my wife, Katharina, as well as my eldest child. Katharina, the voice advised, was looking to undermine my authority in this household. This is simply unacceptable.
The boy too is plotting something against me, I am certain. Recently, I've been feeling unfamiliar stirrings and emotions when I lay eyes on him, and I cannot for the life of me understand why. He reminds me of myself as a child, and the many failures I wish I could undo. Is he trying to lead me into ruin? Into sin? Is this what judgment feels like? What's going on in that twisted little head of his?
Perhaps he plans to inconvenience me in a manner similar to how he did all those years ago. I cannot help but wonder if the boy and my wife are working together. It is unlikely, given her attitude towards him, which stems from the same source as my own weariness, but I should not rule out the possibility.
Kristoph gently set the letter down, a small frown escaping onto his face. There were many conflicting emotions and questions in his mind, but he didn't have the luxury to dwell on it.
He picked up another letter, this one dated the day of his parent's argument. In this letter, the words were written sloppily and unevenly.
4/4/08
9:31
I am absolutely enraged at that horrible, vile woman. Stupid wretch thinks she can go around doing whatever she likes with whomever she likes. Idiot girl. The same idiot girl from all those years ago. If she never had that wretched thing inside of her we would not be snared in this pathetic excuse of a marriage. I suppose this is the punishment for sinning with that slut fifteen years ago. She thinks she can take control from me? I know she wants me dead. That's why I took it from her. I hid it where I knew she couldn't find it. I want her gone as well, but she must suffer for as long as I have to.
Kristoph swallowed as he looked at the letter in his hand. While it didn't come as a surprise, he still didn't want to believe that the spiteful words written on the paper belonged to his father.
Kristoph was about to leave the papers alone and commence the search for the trinket, but one crinkled paper in particular caught his eye. The handwriting was near-illegible, with furious scrawls etched over the paper. Kristoph tried to make out what he could.
?
I'm a good man. I know I am. But Justice is a heavy burden and not one to take lightly. And that's why its with heavy heart that i must do what I'm going to do to teach that miserable whore not to question my judgment ever again. I don't want to do this. But i need to do this. She leaves me no choice.
once i figure out the way to complete the task in a way that's most effective, i will enact my judgment. The only question lingering is whether i should take both of them, or just the younger. Perhaps it will be redundant to go for the older. Things to consider for later, i suppose…
The little one is the apple in her eyes. It's sickening and reminds me of how Father looked at Konrad. And speaking of apples, i can't wait to finish my final painting. The colors of red and yellow will be on the carpet soon just like the ones in this room.
Kristoph suddenly felt very lightheaded.
It was one thing to hear Katharina suspect Konstantin of wanting to harm their youngest son, but it was another to receive confirmation. The truth was situated right in plain sight, in the letter in his hands. For some sick and twisted revenge scheme, Konstantin was willing to harm Klavier. Klavier, the boy with the wide smile and innocent laugh, the boy who always asked for help from his brother, the boy who climbed trees, hated carrots, and wanted to be a singer. A boy with dreams and aspirations; someone with his whole life ahead of him.
Someone who Mother loves, despite doing nothing to deserve it.
Kristoph's eyes drifted toward the easel. He walked over to examine it closer, and furrowed his brows. The whole picture was entirely red. It was as if Konstantin took a paintbrush and covered the entire canvas with one solid color. Upon closer inspection, Kristoph realized that there were small yellow lines scattered about the painting amidst the red.
Abstract art was not Kristoph's forte, and he didn't think it was Konstantin's either—until today. Kristoph was at a complete loss as to what the painting could mean. His eyes trailed around the room, hoping to find something that would help him understand. His eyes settled on the black blanket in the corner.
Kristoph made his way over to the blanket. He slowly reached his hand down to grab a fistful of black cloth when a cold, piercing voice made him freeze.
"Well. And here I was under the assumption that this room was strictly off limits. So what, exactly, prompted your arrival into this room, hmm?"