After exiting the maze-like alleys, the destination appeared.
Bastian looked at the unfamiliar street with narrowed eyes.
On both sides of the narrow street, where a single carriage could barely pass, shops were lined up tightly. Mostly taverns and gambling dens, or theaters with obscene posters. It was a world-like landscape that existed only for pleasure.
"What are you doing? Let's go, Bastian."
Lucas von Ewald's face was full of anticipation as he tapped his shoulder.The only son of Count Ewald, the head of the Senate.
Bastian couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm at the face of his best ally from the military academy. Just by slightly pulling up the corners of his lips, the cold expression on his face changed in an instant.
Bastian followed the group that had led the way with Lucas. Their destination was the gambling house at the far end of the road. It was the building with the most plausible exterior on this street, but it was nothing compared to the social club he had stayed in a while ago.
"This place has its own unique fun. You'll find out soon."
The officer whose eyes met Bastian's said with a sly grin. Erich, the eldest son of a prosperous Faber family in the steel business, was another connection that should not be neglected.
Bastian happily agreed and smiled this time as well. He had not the slightest desire to ruin his reputation with the kind of deviance in these back streets, but that didn't mean he was foolish to antagonize himself by pretending to be above such pursuits. The wisest course of action would have been to play along and then stand up when the time was right.
"You are finally here! I was beginning to worry because I hadn't seen you in a long time."
A middle-aged man, presumably the owner of the gambling house, greeted them with exaggerated joy. It was a clear hospitality that was motivated solely by the knowledge of how much money they would be spent here tonight.
"This person is...."
His gaze, examining the officers, stopped on Bastian's face.
"This is Captain Klauswitz, a name you must have seen in the newspapers."
Lucas, who immediately emptied the glass, introduced Bastian proudly. The man, who blinked his wide opened eyes, burst into a joyful exclamation soon after.
"I never thought I would meet the hero who protected the seas of the empire here! It's an honor, Captain."
After a flurry of compliments, he presented a gift of quality whiskey and a box of cigars.
Unlike the officers who were thrilled with the hospitality, Bastian's face showed no emotion. He went through the motions of drinking, smoking, and chatting, without an emotional investment to any of the excitement surrounded. It was hard to find more enthusiasm, but even at that moment, his lips did not lose their smooth painted smile. It was a kind of habit that his body remembered without being aware of it.
Women, gambling, dirty scandals in the dark.
Different topics completely different from when they were at the social club with sophisticated conversations and debates passed quickly with laughter.
Bastian was mostly a listener. At times, he responded appropriately, but even that did not deviate from the scope of short answers or light laughter.
"The second floor is ready, gentlemen."
The owner approached with quick steps and bowed his head.
The officers, who had stopped chatting at that point, readily rose from their seats. Even though everyone drank a fair amount of alcohol, they moved with the high energy and vitality of young soldiers.
"One more time! Please, please! Just give me one more chance!"
It was just when they entered the hallway on the second floor that led to the VIP card room that they heard a plea that sounded like a scream. An elderly man dragged out of the normal card room was pleading with the guards.
The eyes of the officers who stopped walking all at once turned to the commotion. The man was now on his knees on the carpet in the hallway begging. He was a typical gambler who couldn't let go of the table even after losing all his stake.
Bastian, who had stopped paying attention to the trivial fuss, lifted the cuffs of his uniform and checked his watch. After dinner at the Admiralty, drinking at a social club, and now this, the time was approaching midnight.
After tidying up his clothes, Bastian erased his tiredness by slowly opening his closed eyes. It was at that time that the man from a moment ago started to riot again.
"Let me in! I still have stakes left!"
"Ah, yes. Is that so, beggar Duke ? Then, please show me your stakes."
As if this hadn't happened before, the guards mocked with languid faces.
"That's… that, yes! My daughter! I will bet my daughter!"
The man shook off the guards' hands and exclaimed triumphantly.
"You all know what a great beauty my daughter is, right? Compared to her, the stakes are nothing."
Even while the speechless guards clicked their tongues, the man continued to roam the card room, speaking passionately. As Bastian watched, a laugh mixed with a sigh broke out between his lips, and Erich, the son of the Faber family stepped out.
"Hey. Are you going to take responsibility for what you just said?"
He gestured at the tables and strode to the father who was about to sell his daughter in a gambling frenzy.
"Are you willing to give up your daughter for a bowl of chips?"
He looked back at the pile of chips on the table in the card room and turned to face the man again.
"... Yes, yes, of course! In this capital, no, I can proudly say that my daughter is the most beautiful woman in this empire."
The man who swallowed dry saliva shouted loudly.
"I think this version will be more fun. What about you guys?"
Erich Faber asked for consent with a rather interested face. The officers, who exchanged glances, responded by stealthily turning toward the card room where the man was located.
Bastian watched the skit with eyes as calm as deep in the night. It seemed that he could finally understand the allure that made the children of prestigious families become regulars of these third-rate gambling establishments.
"Come quickly, Bastian!"
The group sitting around the card table began to call his name, urging him on.The father who succeeded in selling his daughter was also looking at him with sparkling eyes.
Bastian went towards it with a light smile on his face. As soon as the last slot was filled, the game began.
Bastian checked the cards dealt to him with a cigar in his mouth, weighing his options.
Though the outcome was not in his favor, it wasn't that bad of a loss.
***
The sound of the bell announcing midnight permeated the silence of the deep night.
Odette paused her hands, which were diligently weaving the lace, and raised her head. Tira, who insisted on helping out, was sound asleep lying on her stomach on the table.
Odette let out a soft sigh and sorted out her work. She packed up the half-finished veil and cotton thread, and massaged her sore hands from holding the needle all day long. In the early spring night sky visible through the faded curtains, a white full moon was floating.
"Tira."
She tapped her lightly on the shoulder and called her name, causing Tira to open her eyes in surprise.
"Has father not returned yet?"
Tira, who was looking around with a face that was still sleepy, cried out.
"What if something happened to him?"
"Don't worry. He'll be fine. It won't be a big deal."
After giving a calm answer, Odette led Tira, who could hardly let go of her mind, and headed for the bedroom.
The room the two sisters shared was north facing, overlooking the river that ran through the city. The view of the beautiful Prater River and the drawbridge was great, but on a windy day like today, they had to suffer from the creaking of the old window frames.
"That sounds so bad. It's like a ghost weeping."
After washing her face, Tira muttered sullenly. Her reddened cheeks glistened in the dim light of the lamp.
Odette gently caressed her sister's cold cheek with her hand, which had been heated by friction.
Until last year, they had been able to live in a house with hot water, but their father had money problems and he had to find a cheaper rental house. Still, it was thanks to the pension given by the imperial family that he was able to get the top floor of an old building on the outskirts of the city. Considering that, at worst, they might have been left stranded on the street, Odette found even that terrible noise sweet.
"Go to bed now."
Odette, who gave Tira a short kiss, ordered.
"I'm not a baby."
Tira obediently lay down on the bed while retorting with her disapproving tone. It wasn't long before she began to hear the low sound of her snoring.
Turning down the lamp, Odette left the bedroom with quiet steps. First, she put away the food she had left for her father on the dining table and closed the door.
After making a meticulous list of daily necessities to buy with the money from selling tomorrow's lace, the night deepened.
She was so exhausted that she wanted to throw herself into bed right away, but Odette did not forget to wash up, put on her old sun-dried pajamas, and brush her hair with care.
Under no circumstances should one lose a minimum of dignity, her mother used to say, as was her habit. It was the same even after she fell into such a poor position that she could no longer be called an aristocrat. For the day when they return to their original place someday.
Her mother, who clung to her faith-like hope, passed away without being able to escape from her miserable reality. Although she vaguely forebode that her own life would be the same, Odette still did not want to erase the traces of the past that were deeply rooted in her. In other words, it was her last legacy left by her mother.
Odette tightened the lock on the window, drew the curtains, and lay down next to Tira. When she closed her eyes while holding her younger sister who was burrowing into her arms in her sleep, today, without anything special, felt very fulfilling.
It was a night that gave her a little bit of fairytale hope that these peaceful days could continue forever.
***
It was unpleasant luck.
Bastian looked down at the table with dismay. Four cards of the same number. No matter how many times he looked at them, it was an unmistakable victory.
"Five! I think Captain Klauswitz has won the most beautiful woman in the empire!"
"What. Isn't it a foul to bring the goddess of victory to the deck of cards?"
The party who confirmed the winner of the game began to cheer. As if they had already completely forgotten their defeat. Just immersed in the stimulating fun of this situation.
Bastian brushed the ashes from his long cigar, rubbing his throbbing forehead. The perfect victory in the casual gambling table was an embarrassment.
"Is the beggar Duke looking at his son in law?"
"Come on, now you have to pay your stake!"
The onlookers who surrounded them began to urge with low booing.
Bastian looked at the old man sitting across from him with a cold mocking gaze. The old man was half dazed, his big eyes wide open. Cold sweat dripped down his flushed face onto the back of his thin hand.
"No way... That, it can't be…"
He started fidgeting with his now useless hands, his whole body shaking.
Bastian stood up from his seat. He was thinking of leaving this place before getting involved with the daughter of such a pathetic man, but the party seemed unwilling to let him go.
"Where are you going? You have to get your money's worth!"
"That's right, Bastian. This is your legitimate right."
The officers holding Bastian tightly called in the watch guards.
"I want him to bring the stake he promised."
The guard's eyes shook at Erich's commanding words. The old man who finally came to his senses started crying and begging for mercy, but the excitement of the onlookers only grew more and more.
"Immediately go to collect his debt."
Upon hearing the news, the owner came running and gave a stern order. The guard let out a long sigh and eventually left the gambling house to fetch the woman.
Bastian sat back in his chair and took a deep breath of the smoke from his cigar. It was a victory that made him feel quite dirty, but he did not bother to express it. Stake money to throw away anyway. The choice that would give him the biggest profit was to return the money quietly after he had adjusted to this atmosphere first.
Bastian let out a faint, annoyed sigh along with the smoke from his cigar. Through the scattered pale smoke, he could see the father who had sold his daughter to him. The man called beggar Duke was wailing like a child.