A Cold Reckoning
Revolutions rarely saw the monarchy restored, but instances had not been uncommon. In the conflict between royalists and republicans, the former had triumphed in some cases, while the military had installed a king after purging its opponents. Citizens, disillusioned by the revolutionaries’ incompetence or the entrenchment of authoritarian rule, had also grown weary of the republic and longed for the old order once more. Yet within Padania itself, the royalist faction lay almost crushed beneath the regime’s heel. It was thanks to the Commander-in-Chief of the Revolutionary Army, Heiner Valdemar.
Occasionally, one brilliant individual could steer the tides of history.
Heiner had resolved the chaotic aftermath of the revolution, the factional strife within its own ranks, the slide toward dictatorship, and a host of other grievances with an almost ideal precision. He had become, in the eyes of the people, a figure of near-deification. Under such circumstances, national sentiment left no room for royalists to maneuver openly; they could only plot in secret abroad.
*If they have gone into exile in France, their chances of securing external aid for a restoration would be high.*
Annette could not claim intimate knowledge of international affairs, yet this much was clear. *My father is the late king’s first cousin. I carry the blood of the throne…* She did not need further elaboration. If the time came, she would be the instrument, the vessel.
The thought chilled her like a blade drawn through marrow. There were already exiled royals scattered across Europe; why her? She could not say for certain. In any case, she could not accept Ansor’s words at face value. Once she might have rejoiced at her old friend’s outstretched hand of pardon, but that was no longer possible.
Annette turned her back on the doorway and began to walk. The business card in her hand had crumpled slightly. Her blue eyes held a faint, cool glint.
“Take my hand, Annette.”
“Well…”
***
Annette examined the donation and grant comparison table. Her slender fingers traced the numbers slowly.
Overseeing contributions from civic organizations had been one of the duties she assumed upon marriage. After the revolution, her name had officially been removed from the post. Nevertheless, final approval still rested with her; no one else would tolerate the tedious task.
She could honestly claim to have managed the matter with complete transparency and integrity. No one had ever appreciated it, yet she had done so.
*We must fulfill our obligations. All of you listening to this radio have been enlightened; you have not been denied access to information. Your government does not censor the messages you receive…*
*Tap.*
Annette switched off the radio. Her head throbbed once more. She opened the windows to let in fresh air, but the headache refused to recede.
She draped a shawl over her shoulders and stepped into the garden. In recent days she had walked for at least an hour each day, not for her health but to silence the whispers that called her lazy.
The moment she began circling the fountain she felt fatigue steal over her. Her body was no longer what it had been. When had that change begun…? She let the question drift away before it could take root.
Annette sat on the bench before the fountain. The afternoon sun warmed her limbs. The water streaming from the basin sparkled in the light. Within that peace she allowed herself a gentle smile.
Ah.
She could die right here.
The thought rose unbidden. Annette had always wished to choose her own moment and place for her end. *Now. Here. Just like this.*
How strange it was that her breath continued to lengthen without her permission.
She closed her eyes and breathed in slowly, then exhaled. The rhythm felt foreign, almost alien.
Suddenly, low voices drifted from behind. Familiar tones. Annette opened her eyes and turned.
Two figures—man and woman—walked along the corridor linking the main residence and the secretary’s private study. The tall, slender man was Colonel Yugen Markov. Beside him walked the red-haired woman…
*Annelie Engels?*
Recognition struck her like lightning. The woman glanced toward her. Annette held her gaze without flinching. Yugen turned his head as well.
The moment he saw Annette, the colonel’s expression tightened. Annelie looked startled. After a brief exchange, she approached.
Her stride was long and confident. When she reached Annette she greeted her with a perfectly courteous smile.
“Good afternoon, madam.”
“…Good afternoon.”
“We have not met before.”
“Indeed.”
This was the first time they had faced each other directly, though their faces were known to her through photographs and records.
Still, Annette could not fathom why Annelie had chosen to speak to her. They had no cause for any pretense of familiarity.
It was not merely the fallen nobility versus the revolutionary army; there were deeper divisions. Annelie had publicly proposed marriage to Heiner. Annette was his wife.
However strained the union, it remained a strained relationship.
“Forgive me for intruding. Do you have a moment? I would like to speak with you.”
“…Of course.”
Annette’s permission granted, Annelie waved Yugen away. The colonel withdrew with obvious reluctance.
Annette watched his retreating back.
*Had Colonel Yugen and Annelie Engels been acquainted?* It was plausible enough—Yugen had served under Heiner, and Annelie had been a comrade in the revolutionary ranks. Yet the fact remained that Annelie held no goodwill toward her.
Annelie smiled warmly. “I hoped we might meet in person one day, and here we are. Would you like to sit and talk, or would you prefer to walk?”
“Sit, please.”
“Thank you. The garden is lovely. You must tend to it yourself.”
“I do not.”
“Oh, I see. I had heard the madam used to manage it….”
“Long ago.”
Annette answered coolly. She had no desire to engage Annelie in pleasant conversation.
“…How do you find life in the residence? I heard you rarely leave the grounds.”
“I remain in quiet seclusion.”
“You have a gentle nature. Frankly, I expected a different woman after only reading about you in the newspapers.”
“Indeed.”
Annelie’s smile faltered slightly. An awkward silence fell. Annette spoke without altering her expression.
“Miss Annelie, you could not have come merely to inquire after my well-being. If you have something to say, speak freely.”
Annelie’s lips parted, then closed again. After a moment of hesitation she continued.
“Commander Valdemar has requested a divorce.”
“Has he?”
“No, it was Colonel Yugen who informed me. The commander refuses to agree to a divorce… I tried to learn the reason, but it made no sense to me.”
“And then?”
“I do not like you, madam.”
“….”
“You are as much a target as I am. Thinking of the wrongs committed by the late Duke Dietrich and the suffering you endured beneath him makes my blood run cold. Moreover, I respect the commander as a man. You do not belong beside him.”
The words poured out in a torrent. Annette studied the fountain’s rising jet. Annelie sighed lightly.
“…That is my honest opinion. Politically, I am bound to the moderate republicans and liberals. A marriage between you and the commander must be arranged to check their influence. You may not realize it, but the international situation is grave. First, Padania must stabilize internally. If war should come, it would be necessary for conscription as well.”
“The matter of divorce—”
Her voice grew brittle. Annette cleared her throat once.
“That is a matter best discussed with your husband. I no longer hold authority over it.”
“Madam, I am warning you.”
Only now did Annette meet Annelie’s eyes directly. The other woman still wore her polite smile.
“The commander has borne great harm for this marriage, yet if that harm grows beyond a tolerable limit, what then? Of course we cannot attack him. We have no wish to.”
“….”
“Remember this, madam: you have enemies.”
Annette understood Annelie’s meaning without difficulty.
The simplest route to a contested divorce was to manufacture grounds on one side. The revolutionary army, parliament, and the press had perfected the art.
To push Heiner past the point of endurance, to drag Annette down with him.
“Miss Annelie, I know you and your faction have used me for your propaganda.”
Annette met the other woman’s gaze without flinching.
“At first I felt wronged. Every piece of news I heard was laid at my feet as my own fault. I wanted to defend myself, to seek revenge.”
“That was never the case….”
“Insanity patients believe themselves sane, do they not? Perhaps I am the same. Perhaps the world is wrong and I alone am mad. After all, if everyone says the same thing, then I must be the one in error.”
“….”
“By the time that thought took root… I no longer had the will to explain or to seek vengeance. I do not resent you. I understand why it was done. I even respect the cause. In sincerity.”
Annelie’s eyes widened in surprise. Annette returned her gaze to the fountain. The high jet shattered into white foam.
“Miss Annelie, as I said, the divorce is no longer within my power. But I have heard you clearly. Do not worry yourself.”
The water rose again, glittering in the sunlight before falling.
Annette rose slowly from the bench. Standing with her back to the light, she looked down at Annelie and declared:
“…This marriage will end soon.”
In the shadow of the fountain, Annette smiled quietly.