In the strings of engagements that made up the weave of Magdalena's life, the meetings she chaperoned between Annerose and her brother were rare jewels. Reinhardt was always off roaming the stars, spectacularly disposing of sufficient rebels that the Kaiser would deign to grant an hour's talk with his sister. Seigfried Kicheis, called Reinhardt's shadow even from their schooldays, stood at his side between the wartorn stars and followed his friend to each afternoon tea with Annerose, whether at the palace or the Schaffhausen estate. The light in Annerose's eyes, as she finally welcomed the boys she'd loved when she had been free, soothed the hidden sores within Magda's heart.
They were hours filled more with feeling than conversation, since Reinhardt wouldn't speak of what he did and Annerose couldn't talk of what she suffered. Magda could only tease dear Seig, about the ladies who'd surely lost their hearts already to that handsome face…?
"Please, milady…I know nothing of such matters."
"Distractions, for a soldier." Reinhardt stated.
Seigfried nodded hard, still examining a bed of roses in the conservatory - exactly as Annerose was closely examining a display of orchids. Magda leaned in with parted lips.
"That would be tragic, if true. Dear Seig, you must come to my next salon. Ladies of every rank and accomplishment would be fascinated to hear of perils and hardships you must have overcome- "
"Baroness." Something in Reinhardt's eyes suddenly chilled Magda, "My sister does not care for such talk."
"I don't mind…" Annerose's small voice convinced no one.
Silence descended, until Countess Schaffhausen rallied marvellously with a detailed account of composting techniques. Especially since Magda had coaxed Reinhardt into fighting a duel on her husband's behalf – in the course of which, the former had narrowly evaded assassination - she had regarded Reinhardt and Seig as the most gallant and respectable of men.
Annerose, Sieg and Magda avoided each other's eyes for some time. Only Reinhardt, Magda noted, stared unblinkingly at Seigfried. His closest comrade – best and only friend.
-0-
Returning to the palace, Magda and Annerose stayed up past midnight to talk without a break. Annerose insisted Magda speak of the ladies who would have adored Seigfried Kircheis, if he had gone to them, and the many happy young matches the Westphalen salon had seen. Magda spoke of the world her friend would never walk free in. Annerose listened with bright eyes that even made bitterness sweet.
Then Annerose spoke of her brother, as always, and her fears for him. Her fear of what he might someday do for her, that a galaxy and billions of souls within it might feel. Magda told her not to fear for a future no single man or woman could control.
"Anyhow, dear Annie, you know more of Seig than I. There must have been childhood sweethearts? I can certainly imagine the scene…"
"Yes. I mean, no, nothing like that. Seig was only eleven when…I had to leave. The same age as my brother. They were always together, even as little boys, and I pray they will never be parted." Annerose glanced away; Magda waited in vain for her to speak what she felt. "It's for the best, that they're together. If I can never be alone with any man except his highness…not even Seig, or my own brother."
At one of the rare social functions to which the Kaiser had chosen to escort her, Annerose had been overcome by the clamour and retired to a sitting room, in which a lone gentleman happened to be loitering. The instant Magda heard the whispers, she had put down her drink, rushed across the mansion by means of a servant's passage, and pushed Annerose down the same passage with orders to run. The Kaiser, soon led to the fatal room by the Marquise von Beenemünde, had found the young man ensconced in the arms of the notorious Baroness Westphalen, and readily supposed the whispers mistaken. Whether it had been happenstance or a deliberate plot, Annerose had seldom been nearer the fall that was never far off.
"I was something like a mother to Reinhardt." Annerose went on, "To Sieg, as well…but my brother feels more deeply than other men, as I know he is purer and will be greater. My brother is a comet, burning through the universe. Only Seig has the courage to stand at his side and the purity to deserve that place."
"No one could be purer than you, dear Annie. Why should you not stand at Reinhardt's side in spirit, when he has no business fighting for anything but your good?"
"Even your imagination could never let me look upon a battlefield, or follow my brother through war." Annerose's slim body shivered; the curl of her lips was sad, "I'm truly glad they have their own life. No mother or sister should determine what a man does with his destiny."
"Since he was only a boy, he has only thought of you. That is love, more precious than rubies or music."
"Even if I can't tell him how I feel? Can't tell Reinhardt what I feel about him risking his life, or be heard by him if I spoke? Even when the servants whisper…that my own brother's feelings for me are unnatural?"
"Darling, love can be terrible, but rumour is only ridiculous. You wouldn't want to hear what they say about me – nothing is more unnatural to them than a woman without a husband."
"…are there rumours about us, Maggie?"
Magdalena laughed in delight and planted a pure kiss on Annerose's brow.
"I wish there were, but some people have no taste. Nobody cares what women do with their private and unfulfilled time. The case is worse for men, unless they're in the military – there, the love that dare not speak its name is called the manful bond of comradeship."
"I'm glad to hear it. Glad for Reinhardt and Seig."
"…darling, you don't mean…?"
"No." Annerose shook her golden head, "Seig's devotion is pure, but there are always rumours, as you say. Please, Magdalena, protect them from such poison. Protect them from…this horrible place. I have suffered this long only for their sakes. If they were to be lost, because of me, I could never bear it."
"Dear Annie, none of this is your fault." Magda firmly held her hand, "You must believe that."
"Must I? Nothing at all? I've heard that some of the highest nobles think me wholly responsible for all the success my brother has achieved. They imagine a woman who deciding the fate of empires, toppling fortresses with one flicker of an eyelash and decides the fate of empires. Sometimes I wish they were right…but there's really only a little I can do, so that my brother's precious light may shine. Other than that, I have my needlepoint. I can walk in the gardens, sometimes, his gardens, and wait…"
Magdalena knew Annerose had – still had - a greater mind and heart than the world would ever know in her. The Kaiser did not visit her often, not more than whenever he wished, but Magdalena would always be there the next day, to sit in silence with her friend.
While Annerose lay on the sofa, an exquisitely beautiful corpse, Magda play for her on the piano, with every gentle song in her overflowing heart. Annerose had once happily played a cheap and chipped piano in her family home, but now she did not play.
A heart that could only endure in hurt or insensibility could name no desire as its very own, even to a friend. Not that Magda could feel she was a friend, when she could do nothing but sit with Annerose, love her, and hold her hand.
-0-
There had been moments Annerose had spent alone with her brother, when Madga had found some pretext to call Seig from the room. A moment for her to press the redhaired young officer's arm, as he stared at the closed door, and invite him again to her salon. More fervently than she had dared to under Reinhardt's gaze.
"I shall mince no words. Without blood or patronage, under present conditions, you may neither rise nor survive in the military. Nobles and commons, we know that rank is worth less than brilliance, infinitely less than an idea, or a point of view. I hope that my little gatherings may not only be of use to yourself and Reinhardt, but dear Annerose, and the whole Empire."
"With every respect, milady…I've believed for six years that change doesn't come from talk. When Reinhardt acts, the galaxy will be changed, and my life means nothing beside that. My apologies, but I cannot attend your salon."
The Department of Social Discipline set microphones crawling through the low beer houses and coffee shops of the commons, but the palaces of nobility were filled with servants' ears. Magda knew that not only her rank had protected her little salon – the DSD similarly believed in the harmlessness, even the utility, of socialites and intellectuals gossiping about modest progress over wine and cheese. She knew in her heart they were probably right – knew for certain that if her salon ever put ideas into practise, they and she would vanish like a fog. As Seigfried might be killed, for what he had stated with quiet modesty, and would do.
Magda finally understood why some of her chums lost their minds over men in uniform. She breathed deeply, checked the corridor behind them for any spy, and leaned closer to whisper in Siegfried's ear.
"You should appreciate what Annerose does for you, dear Seig. On the day the high nobles understand that Reinhardt has higher ambition than winning rank and glory through his own sister's suffering, either they or we will die. Keep your friend safe against that day, my hero – and never imagine you fight alone."
Later that week, Magdalena had an appointment with an artist. Commissioning portraits of herself was another facet of a socialite's part in beautifying the world, but she had taken some trouble to arrange another sitting before Commodore Ernst Mecklinger.
Eccentricities in a soldier such as attending salons, writing articles and producing prize-winning artworks were scoffed at by his superiors – but even the military couldn't operate entirely without brains. Magdalena had always counted herself blessed to be acquainted with a bona-fide renaissance man. She offered her hand for the Commodore to bow over with a click of heels and sat before the easel with a close-lipped smile. Once her mouth had been finished, she had several hours to tell Mecklinger all about Lieutenant Reinhardt von Musel, as he was then.
"…I know of him by reputation." Mecklinger thoughtfully smoothed his moustache with the blunt end of a brush, "Graduated top of his class. Ambitious; that's a double-edged sword. Excellent chess player. No artist, but that's not exactly a soldier's business. His ultimate motives, his capacity to cope with strategic command and true war…remain to be seen."
"He will be worth the watching, and the assisting, as far as you may be willing. I may know nothing of war, but I know human hearts. That boy's wit and spirit would face a hostile empire, unbroken. As for motives, I cannot imagine that High Admiral Reinhardt would deny a good man promotion over his hobbies. An artistic admiral, among other things, might be just what our gallant Starfleet requires to finally settle the matter of those rebels."
"I would be a fool to ignore your insight, Baroness. I'll see what I can do."
"My insight is nothing beside yours, my dear Commodore," The green low-gorged gown rustled slightly, as Magda grinned, "I feel almost naked before your eye."
Baron Brahne and Baron Richter weren't quite so easily swayed. Their dreams of reforming taxation, abolishing the privileges of nobility and holding democratic elections – as they quietly informed Magda, with every precaution – wouldn't necessarily be helped by replacing a senile old Kaiser with a brilliant young dictator. Nonetheless, as waiting and watching were all they could do under the eyes of the DSD, they undertook to watch young Reinhardt's career with interest – and there would be a great deal to watch, as it transpired.
Magda would never know if her little voice had tilted the universal scales towards paradise or perdition. Even if it all had vanished into air, she might be killed for her words one day – but when she thought of Seig's courage, and Annerose's silent, insensible eyes, such an end didn't seem so bad.
-0-
It had been eight years since Magdalena had first met Annerose; a season or so since she'd been able to renew her acquaintance with Admiral Siegfried Kircheis and High Admiral Count Reinhardt von Lohengramm. There was a grand celebration over their latest glorious victory in the fourth, or fifth, battle of Tiamat, to which Magdalena had been escorted by Orpherus von Marmalade and Eduard von Braunschweig, as charming a pair as could have been found among the hundred-odd gentlemen alleged to have enjoyed her intimate favours.
Many of her 'lovers', in fact, hid their true love for each other under the guise of competing for the notorious baroness's affections; Magdalena was only happy to be of help. The Empire might regard the love that dares not speak its name as inseparable from treachery and corruption – social death would have been more instant than the attentions of Social Discipline – but Magda had found her boys among the most charming and musically-tasteful of her acquaintances. She had insisted that Orpherus and Eduard complete the pretence by duelling each other over her favour, which had been most exciting. The fervently chivalrous care with which both combatants had done their rival no harm at all had augmented their reputations, as well as Magdalena's.
"Count Lohengramm. Admiral Kircheis." Magdalena swept across the glittering ballroom into a curtsy worthy of the stage, as her escorts slipped off to spoon in the gardens, "Allow me to congratulate both the heroic Siegfried and the dragon of the Tiamat system."
"Baroness." Reinhardt inclined his golden head, "Didn't the hero Siegfried slay the dragon?"
"Indeed - but I could never discover why they had to fight at all. It seems to me that if you hadn't been a great man before you won great victories, as your true friends must have surely discerned before you left the academy, then your victories would never have been won."
Siegfried frowned, with the boyish honesty Magda had treasured in memory. Reinhardt's brilliant eyes were impenetrable.
"I see I'm still no match for your wit, baroness. You are almost the sole object of interest in this tedious farce."
A lightning-quick glance blazed contempt for the chattering crowd of uniforms and ballgowns. It certainly wasn't the best party Magda had attended that week, but the guest of honour almost looked ready to burn it all down.
"This farce in honour of your victory, Reinhardt." Siegfried whispered, "Just keep smiling until it's over."
It was exactly like an unsociable husband getting scolded; Magda had to press her fan to her lips. Before casting a glance about, in case any of the chattering guests had taken less friendly notice.
There truly was something draconian about Reinhardt von Lohengramm. Beneath invincibly impeccable manners lay the sullenness of a teenager who hated parties – and the restraint of the monstrous, insatiable force that had burned out millions of lives against the stars. Old men in brocade were still whispering across the ballroom that the boy admiral had risen on nothing but selling his sister – but there were more whispers now, higher nobles and admirals drifting toward the huddles. An accusation of degenerate relations, with his sister or his shadow, might no longer be enough in itself to bring down Count von Lohengramm, but great falls began with little pebbles…
Among all the thoughtless laughter and talk of the rebels capitulating within the year, Annerose was not to be found; she could scarcely go anywhere without the Kaiser's leave or escort. Magdalena would have urged her friend to spread her wings even within her cage, but it would have been dangerous, with Beenemünde still thirsting for Annerose's blood. Such was the world of tasteless parties and palace prisons that Reinhardt looked beyond - surely, to something rather more exciting. Beyond the imagination of his rivals and the Kaiser's ministers, thankfully, or Reinhardt, Sieg and Magda herself would have been disappeared and shot. Annerose would live, though – that was all that Magda cared to consider about being something of a traitor to Kaiser Frederick Goldenbaum.
"Is Countess Grunewald well, baroness?"
"Dear Annerose is quite well. Her only concern is for you both. Dearly as she would have wished to congratulate you in person - his majesty was indisposed."
Reinhardt seemed nineteen for an instant, as his sister's name brought joy to his face; at the name of her captor, the visor fell once again. It was Seigfried's face that Magda was watching. It was he who had asked after Annerose, but his eyes were fixed on Reinhardt's face, appearing to show nothing but sympathetic concern.
Siegfried Kircheis had fought under Reinhardt von Lohengramm in all his battles. Walked at his side through the academy, down every corridor of power, and on every visit to Annerose her brother had been granted. He was called the blond brat's shadow, though there was no shadow to be seen in his fair face and fiery hair. Magdalena had wondered as she lay in bed what chained the hero to the dragon so immutably. She knew the fabled mesmeric gaze of dragons had transfixed heroes and maidens alike. Knew that if few loved Reinhardt, none looked away from him – now effortless centre of this celebration he despised, now centre of the whole Empire and fount of its future. Or was the unfailing light in Seigfried's gaze truly nothing but the torch of an honest man in love?
Magdalena had been planning to arrange a meeting between Reinhardt and Hildegarde von Mariendorf, perhaps the most extraordinary woman in the Empire; she had never been more aware that her matchmaking might possibly alter galactic history. Then the orchestra struck up again, and her gloved hand was suddenly grasping Siegfried's sleeve.
"Sieg, my dear friend, a gallant officer simply must know how to waltz."
"Then I shall have to find time to learn- "
"In your brim-full schedule of heroic deeds, really? The best learning is practise. Now then, please, allow me to steal you for a moment..."
Magda could feel Reinhardt's displeasure at having his companion stolen even for half of a quarter-moment, but she didn't meet his eye. She all but dragged Siegfried onto the floor by his ear; he followed before he could become the object of a tug-of-war between high admiral and baroness.
-0-
With so many officers present who had other things to do than practise waltzing, the general standard was quite abysmal. Siegfried was a quick, sensitive learner; Magda spun easily as pleasantly in his arms. She sank her fingers into the muscles on his back and raised innocent eyes to Sieg's taunt lips.
Held by the second-most dangerous man in the Empire, she had never felt safer; a natural patience and goodness rested in that beautiful face. With a mere soupçon of exciting anger, perhaps a hint of a man's curiosity…a certain tension around the midriff informed Magda that Siegfried Kircheis wasn't a man indifferent to feminine charms. Whom it was that he loved, of course, was another mystery…
"Dear Seig, I believe you're a natural," Under the music, their whisper could be heard by no one else. "You really must attend my salon this time. You will meet some gentlemen and ladies almost as fascinating as you and I."
"Your introductions to Admiral Mecklinger and Baron Brahne were invaluable, baroness, but I'm afraid we still have greater concerns at present."
"Oh dear. Surely so concerning and stressful, you must submit to an evening of rest?"
"At your salon, baroness? I'm sorry, but…you realise I'm no musician?"
"Indeed not. Yet there is music, and poetry, and poetry of the soul, sweet Seig."
Her grip tightened on his. Seigfried's callused, laser-scorched hand tightened harder. Magda had to draw in a deep breath to keep hold of her wheeling thoughts and her balance.
"Our work is more than our life or death, milady. It is the future of the whole Empire – the same cruel farce forever, or something better than this. Reinhardt is…the only hope we have of winning this war; our true war. We have to be more fearful and serious than the death in darkness we face."
"If Reinhardt is serious, he should give some thought to marriage. The resources and influence unlocked with a word could most assuredly be the difference between his life and death. If you could make arrangement for the three of us to discuss names…?"
"Reinhardt wouldn't even consider it. He would never do to any woman what was done to Annerose."
"We women do have wills of our own; we may consent to arrangements, when the alternatives are worse than you have known. For security, as well as opportunity…people are starting to talk about Reinhardt and his shadow."
As the music drew with a final flourish to the end, Seigfried stopped like a stone. His hand did not release Magda's, his eyes were fixed on hers, and she almost feared for her life.
"…you don't know. You don't know how we've lived, for years."
"No, I don't." Magda's gaze did not waver, "Can you understand how Annerose and I must live, what may be done to us, because of what we are?"
"…I'm sorry. I don't even know who you are, baroness...how you can thrive in this gilded hell, with your mind and heart."
Her hand, released, caught a fold of the black uniform on his chest in two fingers. Everyone on the floor was staring at them now, as Magdalena whispered to Siegfried one last time.
"I'd look very fetching in a uniform, if they'd let me wear one. Please, do come to my salon. I must understand why such a gentle man took up a profession his heart detests."
-0-
It was all over the palace within the hour that Siegfried Kircheis had been added to Baroness Westphalen's list of conquests – the scurrilous rumours about Kircheis and Count Lohengramm had probably been nothing more. When it came out that Siegfried and the baroness had been espied behind a garden trellis later in the evening, no doubt remained about it.
Westphalen's taste for common boys was well know, and what more could be expected from a so-called 'admiral' whose father had been nothing but a gardener? Peasants very rightly had less latitude in these matters than their betters, and it was quite proper that Count Lohengramm had subjected his man to a blizzard of a private rebuke over the indiscretion.
It was another commonplace bit of palace gossip – only Magdalena was astonished. Sieg had never kissed a woman before, but she had never been kissed by a man like him. His touch had never been less than gentle, but there was starving passion in his lips and loneliness in the corners of his eyes. Pure love, but for a lover he would never touch – not the one whose side he would never leave. Magda had suspected, by nothing on Odin was so rare, beautiful or awful as the truth.
"Seig…we can go home together, if you wish?"
His red head shook. Bowed down, like a knight in desperate prayer.
"I'm sorry. Milady, please…tell Annerose I'm sorry."
"…I will. Only, please call me Magda when we're alone. Is that too much to ask, Siegfried?"
"Of course...Magda. I'm sorry. This must have been awful for you."
While the experience itself had been divine, Magda found herself rather discontented the next day, as often as she thought on it. Her career had been a catalogue of exquisite experiences, diverse, brief and unretainable as their nature made them, but there was a love her life had lost – and what a love poor, dear Annerose had lost, sold to the Kaiser when poor Seig had been eleven!
She couldn't envy her dear friend; she barely felt any envy at all. She would have gone to Annerose in her palace cage and tried to find something to say - but it appeared that she was indisposed by a headache. She would not see Magda at all. Of course, she would have heard the rumours about her eleven-year-old knight and her best friend.
With all she had sought to do for Annerose, Magda had never realised before what Annerose had done for her. A friend never judging, never envious, never grasping for anything but the hand of friendship. Poor, long-suffering Annie. The princess in her tower of shame, who deserved the love of the purest knight! Who had lived on a dream that Magdalena Westphalen had shattered, quite carelessly.
Magda's evenings were busy enough that she seldom had time for day drinking; she supposed she must have rather overdone it, when she woke up on her couch with a headache and foul taste in her mouth. Tannhäuser on the record player had long fallen silent. The servants had rolled her onto her side, cleared away the bottles, and cancelled her appointments.
The mist resolved itself into the welcome face of her true lover, David Wagner of the divine violin. He had surely heard the rumours as well, but he rubbed her back and brought her water until she was somewhat recovered. Then she flung her arms round his neck, and he carried her up to the bedroom without a word.
A/N: The Duchess of Argyll, during her famous divorce case, was confronted with a list of her 88 alleged lovers. Many of whom were, in fact, gay, but neither they nor the duchess could say so because that was illegal in 1960s Britain. The duchess was appallingly slut-shamed in the judge's summing up.