Georg sat alone in his room, staring out the window at the familiar yet suffocating view of his parents' estate. The house was quiet, the kind of silence that only seemed to exist in places where everyone was careful not to disturb the fragile peace. The holidays, once a time of joy and warmth, had become nothing more than a series of obligations—rituals to be endured rather than celebrated.
He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of a year spent trying to live up to expectations that were never truly his own. When Werner died, everything had changed. His father, once distant and indifferent to him, suddenly began molding him into Werner's replacement. Georg had tried to resist, but the pressure had been relentless. Now, as a naval engineer, he was exactly what his father wanted him to be—successful, obedient, and utterly devoid of his own desires.
But it was a hollow success. Georg knew he was good at his job, but he felt nothing for it. Every day was a battle to keep going, to pretend that this life was enough. The money was good, sure, but it couldn't buy back the dreams he had once held so dear. The dreams he had shared with Maria, long ago.
His thoughts drifted to Hede. She had been smart—she had found a way out. France was her escape, a world far removed from the tension and unspoken resentments that filled their home. She had been the closest to their parents, the one who had always smoothed over conflicts and kept the family together. Now, she was gone too, leaving Georg to deal with their parents on his own.
He couldn't help but feel bitter as he thought of Maria. She was the catalyst for everything that had gone wrong. It was because of her that his relationship with his parents had deteriorated. His father's coldness, his mother's nagging, the suffocating atmosphere of the house—all of it could be traced back to that fateful day when Maria had first set foot in their home.
If only he hadn't befriended her. If only he hadn't confessed his feelings for her. If only he hadn't gone to her bed. If only he hadn't gone away.
The regrets weighed heavily on him, a constant reminder of the life he had lost. They could have been together, planning their future, dreaming of a life far away from the constraints of his family. But that future was no longer possible. Maria was gone, and with her went any hope of the life he had once imagined.
Now, he was just a shell of the person he used to be, living a life that wasn't truly his. The thought of leaving his parents' home again, of returning to the life he had built for himself away from them, was the only thing that gave him any sense of relief. But even that was tinged with sadness. He knew he couldn't run forever. The ghosts of his past, the memories of Maria, would always follow him, no matter how far he went.
Georg sighed, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. He wished he could erase it all, go back to a time before Maria, before the world had become so complicated. But he knew that was impossible. All he could do now was keep moving forward, even if it meant leaving behind everything that had once mattered to him.
Georg's eyes snapped open as his mother entered the room, her presence a stark contrast to the solitude he had been clinging to. She stood in the doorway, dressed impeccably as always, her posture straight and commanding.
"Georg, darling," she began, her tone dripping with the sweetness that only barely concealed her underlying determination. "We'll be leaving for Vienna soon. Don't forget, we're expected at the Schraeders' dinner party tonight."
Georg suppressed a sigh, nodding automatically. Another dinner, another evening of forced smiles and empty conversation. The Schraeders were among his parents' closest acquaintances, a family of equal standing and even greater ambition. The invitation was not a surprise; his mother had been angling for this event for weeks, dropping hints about the importance of social connections and the benefits of aligning with the right people.
But it was the thought of Elsa Schraeder that filled him with the most dread. Elsa, the golden child of the Schraeder family—beautiful, poised, and utterly perfect in the eyes of his parents. They had been pushing him toward her for as long as he could remember, ever since he had returned home from the naval academy. His mother's scheming, always so subtle yet so effective, had undoubtedly ensured that they would be seated together at the dinner, just as they had been at every other event.
Georg felt a bitter laugh rising in his throat. Elsa Schraeder, the epitome of everything he should want. She was everything his parents wanted for him—graceful, well-bred, the ideal match for a man of his station. But to him, she was nothing more than a symbol of the life he despised, a reminder of the expectations that weighed so heavily on him.
Why would they pair her with him, a man who felt more like dirt than the distinguished naval engineer he was supposed to be? He knew the answer, of course. It wasn't about him at all; it was about maintaining the family's reputation, securing alliances, and furthering their influence. His feelings, his desires, were irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.
If only he could escape, slip away from the party and disappear into the night. But he knew better. His parents' influence was too strong, their control too absolute. Any attempt to defy them, to shirk his duties, would only lead to more conflict, more pressure. And with their reputation at stake, they wouldn't hesitate to remind him of the consequences of rebellion.
Georg stood up, straightening his jacket as he prepared to join his parents for the trip to Vienna. His hand reached into his jacket pocket. There was a wooden rosary. His thumb slowly rubbed over the rosary out of habit, as it usually helps him clear his head. He took a deep breath, his eyes closed for a moment. His mother watched him with an approving smile, pleased to see him conforming to her expectations.
"We'll be leaving shortly," she said, turning to leave. "Make sure you're ready."
As she walked out of the room, Georg felt the walls close in around him once more. Vienna, the dinner party, Elsa Schraeder—all of it loomed before him like a prison he could never escape. He was trapped, bound by the expectations of his family and society, with no way out.
But as he followed his mother downstairs, a small, defiant part of him refused to be silenced. He might be forced to attend the party, to play the role they had cast him in, but that didn't mean he had to accept it. Not entirely. There was still a part of him that longed for something different, something more.
And as long as that part of him existed, there was still hope. However faint, however distant, it was the only thing that kept him going.
⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻
Georg found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions during his time in Vienna. The city buzzed with life, a stark contrast to the suffocating expectations that weighed on him. He reveled in the company of his old friends from the academy, sharing laughter, wine, and the occasional evening lost in the arms of women who, for a fleeting moment, helped him forget the turmoil inside. Those nights were a welcome escape from the rigid life he had been thrust back into.
But alongside the fleeting joys, there was a bitter undercurrent. He loathed the situation he found himself in. His parents, along with the Schraeders, had arranged a marriage for him with Elsa. The news had hit him like a blow to the chest, leaving him reeling. Elsa was beautiful, sophisticated, everything a young man of his status should desire. Yet, to Georg, the engagement felt like a gilded cage.
He had hardly had time to nurse the old wound that still ached deep within him, the wound left by Maria's sudden departure from his life. That pain, once a raw and searing agony, had dulled over the years, but it remained, a constant reminder of what he had lost. And now, without warning, he was expected to move on, to marry a woman he barely knew beyond the superficial.
At first, he resisted the idea, but the pressure from his family was relentless. His father's stern approval and his mother's hopeful gaze left him with little room to object. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed inevitable. Perhaps, he told himself, this was the way things were meant to be. Perhaps a life with Elsa could help him forget the past.
But deep down, Georg knew that the old wound had never truly healed. And as he adjusted to the reality of his engagement, he couldn't help but feel a lingering sense of betrayal—betrayal of himself, of the love he had once cherished so deeply.
As the weeks went by, Georg began to feel a sense of relief, albeit a bittersweet one. Though the idea of marrying Elsa had initially filled him with dread, he found himself gradually warming to the idea. Elsa was, after all, the epitome of what society expected from a wife—graceful, poised, and well-mannered. She had a natural charm that seemed to put everyone at ease, and Georg couldn't deny that she was easy to be around.
Elsa always seemed to know the right thing to say, the right way to carry herself in any situation. She navigated social circles with ease, her laughter light and infectious. Everyone adored her—his parents, their friends, even the servants. She was perfect in every way that mattered, and Georg found himself grateful that his parents had chosen someone so suitable.
He had never felt the same burning passion for Elsa that he had once felt for Maria, but he came to appreciate the calm stability that Elsa brought into his life. She was safe, predictable, and dependable—all qualities that were in stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions that Maria had stirred within him. With Elsa, there were no surprises, no heartbreaks, just a steady path forward.
Georg told himself that perhaps this was what he needed now. The love he had once known was intense and all-consuming, but it had also left him broken. Elsa was different; she was a balm to his wounded soul, soothing and steadying him in a way that Maria never could. He didn't love her with the same fire, but he respected her, admired her even. And in a way, that felt like enough.
At least, he thought, his parents had done something right this time. They had chosen someone who could offer him a future free from the ghosts of his past. Elsa might not have been the love of his life, but she was a good choice—a choice that would bring him the peace he had longed for since Maria left. And for that, he was glad.