The proprietor of the quaint grocery store rose from behind the counter, his voice echoing with authority. An unpleasant odor seeped from his lips as he spoke, suffocating the air around him.
"Bring me the money, don't talk crap!"
Duke Diessen recoiled, his expression contorting in revulsion. In this dingy and impoverished neighborhood, being forced to feign amiability with this newly-arrived merchant was an unendurable burden, but he had no choice.
Ever since that fateful day when he became embroiled with the misfortune-ridden officers of the Navy, Duke found it increasingly challenging to even step foot in the clandestine gambling dens of the back alleys.
With the pension he got from the Imperial family, he should have been able to accumulate enough funds to acquire a respectable abode, but his last shred of hope rested solely on the gaming tables in the seedy outskirts, surrounded by the dregs of society.
"Pray, grant me entrance to the premises just once more. I shall then bestow the portion of my winnings."
"Good heavens! You are penniless and still cling to the grandiose dream of recouping your debts." The grocer chuckled, his dingy teeth on full display, inciting the group of men who were horrified puffing on their cigarettes to join in the laughter.
"Not here. Go, give your daughter a visit. I have heard rumors of her securing the affections of a gentleman. Perhaps you might retrieve some pocket money from him." The barber spoke, offering a preposterous suggestion.
"Odette has found love? Such tales are nothing but fabrications," Duke Diessen protested.
"You are unaware that your daughter is a prostitute. How pitiful," someone jeered.
"Insult my daughter again, and you will witness to my wrath!" Duke Diessen warned, his voice echoing with anger.
"Why does she don her finest attire and roam the night, if not for a purpose?"
"Not long ago, I peered from my luxurious carriage into the night, and I spotted a figure of wealth and affluence."
"If only we could have a chance to cash in before he rises to the top."
"Listen, Duke of Beggary. If you seek to participate in the next competition, why not bring your daughter along? They may extend to you a gracious discount."
Their grins shimmered with maleficence as they traded jests and made lewd gestures.
Duke Diessen, his face aflame with anger, vented his frustration by lashing out at a wooden chest stacked near the entrance. The sound of shattering glass bottles echoed amidst the cries of the stunned onlookers.
"You scoundrels! How dare you talk about someone's daughter like that!" he bellowed. Duke Diessen stormed out of the grocery store, his mind awhirl with frustration and anger. He thought of the tin mine that had promised wealth, but instead brought nothing but despair. The loss of his wife, the emperor's wrath, and the betrayal of his daughter weighed heavily on him.
He cursed the fraudulent seller who had sold him the mine and the callous members of the imperial family who had stripped his daughter of her title and banished her. The Duke had hoped to restore his family's standing by marrying his daughter to the emperor's son, but those dreams were shattered.
Fleeing to a foreign land to escape the emperor's wrath, they returned home only after the death of the previous emperor, who had shown mercy and offered them a place to live and settlement money. Though the Duke's aspirations for restoration were not fulfilled, he was grateful for the emperor's kindness.
Helen slumped and died in anguish, shocked to find she had lost all the money. Even though his sister's passing was the result of a tragic accident, the emperor held the Duke responsible. Indeed, He shared his father's heartlessness.
With Odette, there was a ray of hope that things could yet alter in the future.
Once more feeling upbeat, the Duke of Diessen folded his cloak's collar. Odette was waiting for him when he turned the corner and gazed.
Odette emerged from the building's door where the rental home was housed, well-dressed. The Duke of Diessen quickly hid himself between the gaps in the little building after deciding against summoning his daughter.
Odette's outings had, it occurred to him, been happening more frequently lately. It seems that she had experienced pleasant things that he had never witnessed before. A very odd change had occurred.
As he came to that realization in his thinking, he experienced a foreboding sensation.
How could she…
when he attempted to dismiss his disturbing feeling, Odette got a little bit closer. With his back to the wall, Duke Diessen positioned close by. Fortunately, Odette did not glance in that direction. She headed for a bridge that crossed the Prater River. It was a street corner in the middle of the city that led to the downtown.
After giving it some thought, Duke Diessen moved as quietly as a shadow to follow his daughter.
*.·:·.✧.·:·.*
"A warm greeting and many thanks for your gracious invitation, Countess," Odette began with an air of graciousness.
With a piercing gaze, Countess Trier, set aside her glass of water, scrutinized Odette's appearance. Despite her modest attire resembling that of a governess, Odette managed to carry herself with a tolerable elegance, choosing to avoid ostentatiousness. A common misconception amongst men was that beauty equates to attraction.
"Have I met your expectations?" Odette queried with a hint of mischief playing at the corners of her lips, her facial expression otherwise emotionless.
"Barely avoiding a failing grade," the Countess replied with a twinkle in her eye, gesturing for Odette to take a seat at the table across from her. Odette's poised movements, full of grace, belied her humble origins and momentarily made her forget her financial struggles.
Her lineage was rich with memories of splendor, and she was the embodiment of the fading remnants of their former glory.
The conversation at the table was light and inconsequential, discussing trivialities like the whimsical spring weather, headaches, and a subpar opera performance from the previous weekend.
A round of appetizers were served as they idly chatted away.
Countess Trier, impatiently awaiting her order, glanced around the restaurant. A parade of elegantly dressed guests flowed in and out, but her desired arrival was yet to be seen.
With a hint of surprise in her voice, Odette broached the topic of the missing comb. Countess Trier cast a sideways glance at her, noticing the genuine concern etched on her features.
"How quaint of you to still fret over a mere trinket, despite the recent affront," the Countess remarked with a wry laugh.
"I apologize, Countess, for not properly safeguarding your property," Odette replied, her voice sincere.
The Countess raised a skeptical brow. "I have little patience for insincere pleasantries, my dear."
"If it pleases the Countess, I will reimburse you for the damages," Odette offered.
The Countess arched a brow, amused. "And how exactly do you plan on accomplishing that?"
"I will take it up with His Majesty, the Emperor," Odette replied matter-of-factly.
The Countess let out a sharp laugh, realizing that Odette was no different from her father, the Duke, in cunning and tenacity.
"Are you proposing to bill the Emperor for his daughter's misdeeds?" The Countess asked, with a hint of amusement in her voice.
"Yes, for it was undoubtedly Princess Isabelle's fault," Odette replied with a resolute nod.
"Do you truly believe the Emperor will heed your request?"
"Even if he holds no regard for me, I believe he will do right by you, the esteemed elder of the imperial family," Odette said, setting her wine glass down and folded her hands in a neat on her lap.
Countess Trier could not contain her laughter as she watched her seemingly resolved appearance, as if she had really decided to extract a debt from the emperor. "Indeed, it would be quite troublesome if the Emperor of the Empire cannot rectify the mistakes of his own daughter. I will have the jeweler's estimate of the repair costs sent directly to the Imperial Palace as soon as it arrives."
"Will they be able to fix it?" Odette asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"Yes, thanks to your diligent collection of the broken pieces," the Countess replied with a warm smile.
Odette let out a sigh of relief, her features softening into a smile that lit up her face. The Countess was momentarily taken aback by the transformation, as the normally stoic young woman now exuded a childlike innocence.
"I am grateful, Countess," Odette said, her smile beaming.
The Countess chose to overlook the sudden change in demeanor, instead opting to view it as a useful tool in capturing the attention of the man, Bastian. Perhaps, she mused, a charmingly naive swan would prove to be a more effective strategy in dealing with him than a wooden statue.
As Countess Trier shared the news of Princess Isabelle's imprisonment at the imperial summer palace, Odette gazed out the window of the restaurant. The once sunny spring days had been replaced by a dreary, cloud-covered street that seemed to hint at the return of winter.
Suddenly, a luxurious automobile with golden wheels pulled up to the restaurant, interrupting Odette's thoughts.
With a deep breath, Odette turned her attention back to the table. She reminded herself that this meal was simply another task she had been assigned, and she couldn't afford to let her emotions get the better of her. After all, she had learned through a painful past that it was easier to protect her heart if she didn't allow herself to feel too much.
Even the princess's recent outburst at the ball didn't shake Odette's resolve. She knew that her only weapons were her impeccable manners and composed demeanor, and she made sure to double-check her pocket knife before leaving the house. She wasn't here to make friends or get emotionally invested, but to simply play the role of a dinner guest before making her exit.
"Well, my stomach is growling at me now." Countess Trier caught the waiter's eye and signaled for their meal. At that moment, a customer took a seat at the next table.
Odette's gaze landed on a familiar figure, causing her to let out a soft gasp of surprise. The young officer seated diagonally across from her raised a curious eyebrow in response.
"Goodness, what a coincidence, Countess Trier," exclaimed the old gentleman seated across from the officer, who was none other than Admiral Demel, another imperial matchmaker.
"I never thought I'd run into Lord Demel here," the Countess remarked with a look of surprise mirrored on her face. "Why don't we have a meal together? After all, this just happens to be the table next to us."
"If the ladies agree, it would be our pleasure, right?" Admiral Demel said with a friendly smile, looking to the young officer across from him. Bastian, the young officer, was forced to nod in agreement,
"Of course."
The final piece to this staged scenario was left to Odette.
"How about it, Odette?" Countess Trier turned her head and asked, her tone relaxed.
Odette lifted her confused gaze, looking at Bastian, who sported a charming smile despite the absurdity of the situation. The man who claimed to follow the emperor's orders was willing to play along with this obvious plan.
"Yes, Countess," Odette said with finality, paying for a delightful lunch with her answer. She couldn't help but remember the warmth of the hand that caught her as she stumbled, and the softness in the eyes that gazed upon her.
But Odette was fully aware that this marriage proposal could never penetrate her heart, for she would never give it away.