"My, my. That's not the kind of language I'd expect to hear from one of my sons."

Kristoph turned around. In the entrance to the living room stood Katharina, looking presentable as always in her elegant evening gown. Her cool eyes surveyed the room before resting on the body, then flickering back to Kristoph. To Kristoph's surprise, she seemed less concerned about the body and more concerned with the broken glass from the scuffle.

"Hmm. You certainly made a mess of things. That's to be expected, of course. You're still a young boy, despite your desire to appear older."

"Did…Klavier tell you to come down here? When he saw me, he…" Kristoph trailed off. He wanted more than anything to gain insight as to what Katharina was thinking. Yet the woman kept her mask in place, impervious to the scene that greeted her.

"Yes. The poor boy was a complete wreck. It was almost embarrassing, albeit understandable, given the circumstances. He asked me to come down with him, but I tucked him into bed and told the little dear I wanted to see my husband for myself. For different reasons than he thought, I would imagine."

"I killed Father," replied Kristoph dully. Admitting that gave him no satisfaction or pride, just a cold, numb feeling. In the back of Kristoph's mind, he clung to a faint hope that Katharina would embrace him and tell him everything would be okay, but knew there was a higher chance of Konstantin getting up and walking out of the room. "I knew that he was going to kill Klavier. I-in the North Room, there were paintings and—"

"And just why were you in there? I recall my husband saying it was off limits, although his word hardly holds any significance anymore." She motioned to the body with a manicured finger.

"I was looking for something." What was the point of hiding anything, anymore? Klavier was afraid of him, his father was dead, and his mother would probably hate him, too. "You trinket. I heard you talking with Sophia about it the day Klavier fell from that tree. I thought I could find it up there, but didn't see anything that could be valuable."

Kristoph eyed Katharina, expecting her to ask why he was looking for her item, or at least show some form of shock. To his surprise, Katharina simply gave a small smile and rummaged through her expensive white purse before pulling out a miniature glass object.

"Mother, is that"—he squinted—"a bottle of…nail polish?"

"Yes, it is. I never could have found it if your father wasn't preoccupied with your punishment. I suppose I should thank you."

Kristoph stared incredulously at the object, recalling the tiny bottle in one of the drawers in the North Room. It was so small, so insignificant, that Kristoph dismissed it as having no importance. Feelings of rage and dismay threatening to swallow him.

"That's all? This whole thing was over a bottle of common nail polish? I can't believe this…"

"Ariadoney is hardly common, Kristoph," she drawled, raising a single brow. "And this 'whole thing' was a result of my husband's paranoia, not anything of mine. He appeared to be under the impression I was harboring poison in this bottle. To his credit, his suspicion was certainly plausible, if not probable."

"Did you try to poison him?"

"No."

There was a moment of silence.

"Then, why?" asked Kristoph, eying the glass bottle with deep contempt. "Why is it so important?"

"It was an issue of pride, you see," replied Katharina, twirling her blonde locks around her pale finger. "I wanted it back because it was mine and he took it. I couldn't have that miserable man think he gained an edge over me. You may be young, Kristoph, but one day you'll realize the significance of maintaining one's appearance and personal pride. What others see may not necessarily be the truth, but it will be what solidifies your position in the world."

The pieces started fitting together. "You planned everything," Kristoph stated numbly. "You wanted me to hear your talk with Sophia, that's why you had your 'private' conversation up against the other side of the wall. You counted on me being stupid enough to go into the North Room so you could find the bottle yourself." Suddenly feeling as determined as he was furious, Kristoph snarled, "I almost died, and so did Klavier! Did you even think of that?"

Katharina's eyes seemed to thaw slightly as she shook her head and gave a light sigh."I didn't intend to put your life in any danger, if you must know. It just happened to turn out that way. There was always the risk, of course, but it was a risk I chose to take."

"So people are just pawns to you," accused Kristoph, voice dripping with venom. Although he was hearing it from Katharina herself, part of him did not want to believe the mother he desired affection from his whole life considered her son's existence nothing but a piece in a game against her husband.

"It's quite strange that you're the one to accuse me of treating people like pawns. Despite some of my …questionable decisions, I truly am fond of Klavier. I know you care deeply for him as well, perhaps more than you should. However, I'm not blind to your underlying feelings of jealousy and bitterness. You enjoy when he showers you with adoration—perfectly understandable—and it's not beneath you to manipulate those emotions. You're not that different from myself, as much as it pains me to admit."

Katharina gave Kristoph a faint smile as Kristoph took in what she just said. She was right. Kristoph loved to bask in the praise, attention, and love his younger brother gave him. By never acting too enthused when dealing with Klavier, Kristoph maintained an aura of aloofness that drew Klavier towards him. Kristoph knew it was cruel of him to act that way, but deep in his heart he felt that he was justified by teaching the boy who always had everything what it was like to be ignored.

"Now, let's address the most pressing matter: You killed your father. I don't hold that against you, of course. In fact, I'm quite pleased. He always was a terrible man and it's fitting he died at the feet of the boy he overlooked for so long. Regardless, you dealt with him in a messy and ungraceful way, and many strings will need to be pulled." A cruel smile tugged at her lips. "Luckily, you have me as a mother. I'll take care of it."

"Did you want me to kill him, or did you just want me to be a distraction?" he asked hollowly, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

She tapped her chin with her finger, a cruel mockery of thought. "To suit my purposes, you only had to be a distraction. Still, I suspected you would try to take matters into your own hands once you found evidence of his ill will towards Klavier. I was sorely tempted to myself, but a lady never gets her hands dirty…"

A flash of anger flared inside him. "But there were so many variables…how did you know how I would react? Or the steps I would take?"

Katharina gave a light, melodious chuckle as she placed a smooth hand on Kristoph's shoulder. At first he tensed at the unfamiliar contact, but gradually relaxed.

"You truly do have the makings of a lawyer. I knew because you are my son. Perhaps I did intend for you to kill him; it hardly matters now. You had your own reasons for plunging that knife into him, and I had my own for guiding you on the path. There are many kinds of power in the world, you see. Konstantin believed that he could earn respect by fear and intimidation. What he failed to realize was that there are different kinds of strength. In our fifteen years of marriage, I always held control over this family from the background while making him believe he was the one in charge. In the end, his own paranoia got the best of him."

Kristoph looked up at his mother with a mix of revulsion and awe. She was a selfish woman who manipulated everything around her to suit her needs. Although Kristoph knew he had every reason to hate the woman in front of him, he couldn't bring himself to feel that way. Perhaps it was a result of fifteen years of yearning for praise, but Kristoph knew he could never truly hate Katharina. On the contrary, the boy found himself admiring the woman for her cunning and control over the situation. It was that fact that unnerved him more than anything else at the moment. It went completely against everything Sophia taught him about morals, but what did it matter?

Her intelligence and ambition allowed her to come out on top again. Was that how God worked? He only rewards those with enough intelligence and ambition to achieve their goals? Do people need to get their hands dirty if they want success?

What a horrible, sick world this is…

"For all this talk," Katharina began, lifting her hand from Kristoph's shoulder and snapping the boy out of his inner musings. "I never saw one piece of decisive evidence to show that you were the one who killed Konstantin Gavin."

"B-But I said I killed him! Even you admitted it!" Kristoph didn't know what game his mother was playing.

"Really?" Amusement danced in Katharina's bright eyes as she titled her head slightly. "That's strange. All I can recall were statements made by a boy who stumbled upon his father's dead body and was suffering from the aftershock. In fact, I believe the culprit was a robber who came to steal one of our Ming dynasty vases. My late husband happened to be in this room and the robber, panicking, took a knife and stabbed him. You stumbled into this room, causing the robber to flee. Upon seeing Konstantin's body, you rushed over to your poor father's side. And after hearing the noise from the struggle, Klavier came downstairs and misinterpreted the situation. I see no problem here."

Kristoph blinked, stunned. Was his mother actually trying to protect him? That can't be it; she has to have a hidden agenda. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"For you? Well, I suppose it would be more accurate to say that it's for the good of the family. I can only imagine the shame that would come if the new, orphaned head of the Gavin family were to be deemed a murderer by the public, not to mention the negative effects it would have on poor Klavier. "

"Orphaned? Only Father is dead; how can we be orphans?"

Katharina met Kristoph's eyes, and for the first time in all his life Kristoph knew what Katharina was thinking.

"But…why? You can't possibly… it's…why, Mother?"

Katharina gave her son a small, sad smile as she turned her head, obscuring her face from his view with her curtain of blonde hair.

"As a young girl, I always had dreams of being on stage. I was an up-and-coming starlet, and the newspapers would wax poetic about my 'great potential','' she recalled wistfully. "But my career came to a halt before it could truly begin. I made a rather…unwise decision, and was forced into marriage to avoid scandal. At the risk of sounding cliche, this house became a prison, and I was its captive."

"But he's dead!" exclaimed Kristoph, gesturing frantically towards Konstantin's body. "You can go back to those dreams and start over!"

"I…no longer wish to do so. I've decided long ago that once the man was dead I would break free from this miserable lifestyle."

Sophia's words of Katharina's 'emptiness' and 'struggles' reverberated throughout his head. He searched for the right words to say, if they even existed, but his mouth felt dry.

"Why did you wait until now? Why are you going to do it when Klavier and I need you the most?"

"Like I said before, I have an image to maintain. I didn't want that horrible man to believe for one second that he triumphed over me. And naturally, I had no intention of besmirching the public image of myself. After a couple days of mourning for my dear, sweet husband, I will finally play the role of the devoted wife one final time."

"But w-what about"—me—"Klavier?"

"Klavier will be fine; he has a wonderful brother."

Katharina walked over to Kristoph and gently placed her hand on the top of his head in an almost motherly manner. Kristoph closed his eyes, trying to soak in everything about the feeling of Katharina.

"I know I was never the mother I should have been to you," she murmured softly. "It's one of my many regrets. Regardless, I hope you remember these words: Always maintain a good outer image. It gives you control, even in times when you have none."

Kristoph felt her warm lips brush against his forehead. "Your wound will heal in time. With the right doctor and proper stitching, it should be unnoticeable. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have the role of a grieving wife to play."

Kristoph opened his eyes as her hand and lips left him. He took one last look at Katharina before she exited the room, leaving her son to reflect on what was spoken and unspoken between them. Hearing Katharina's artificial sobs coming from the hallway, Kristoph gave a deep sigh as he looked at the back of his hand. Despite the severity, Katharina claimed it would be almost unnoticeable to others, as if nothing ever happened. As if he was the mature and polite Gavin heir as opposed to the lowly murderer he knew he was.

'Always maintain a good outer image. It gives you control, even in times when you have none.'

The events that transpired over the past few hours replayed in Kristoph's head like a video tape. Kneeling down at Konstantin's body, Kristoph felt a wet drop land on his mangled hand. It was only after more came did Kristoph realize that, for the first time in many years, he was crying.