Chapter 63: Chapter 56

Peter

 

Tired, he recoiled. The sun was shining through the window. The soft light had awakened him. Lazily, he climbed out of his bed and disappeared into his bathroom to get ready for the day, before a servant could wake him up.

When he came out of the bathroom, there was a pot of tea and a cup on his bedside table, as he started every day with tea. A servant had quietly brought him the tea. Peter poured some tea into his cup and went to his dressing room.

Another breakfast with Babette and her parents awaited him, as they would not leave until after breakfast. Lea had already left the evening before.

He had little desire to spend more hours with Babette. He would rather go straight to the academy to visit his sister. What was it like to attend classes there? To be a student there? What was it like to be a magician?

His childhood dream did not let him go. Instead, another breakfast with sausage Babette was waiting for him, who probably had even more ludicrous ideas for her wedding. What idea might come next? A parade?

In a bad mood, he put on simple cloth trousers and a light linen shirt. He put a colorful scarf around his neck and tied his hair together with a shimmering ribbon. Julia's necklace disappeared under his shirt. Then he made his way to breakfast, where his parents were already talking to the Baron and the Baroness. Babette wasn't there yet. Maybe she had overslept?

"Good morning", he greeted his family and future family. He sat as far away from them as the dining room table allowed and put fruit on his plate. A servant poured him coffee. To his left sat Cleo, who looked a little pale and listlessly sipped a glass of orange juice.

"Good morning, Peter." His mother nodded at him, but then continued to talk to Babette's parents. Babette arrived at the dining room a few moments later. She wore a too-tight, poison-green dress and lavish jewelry. Smiling, she sat down next to Peter and reached for his hand.

"Did you sleep well?", she wanted to know. Her grip was tight and she looked at him with a fake, sugar-sweet smile.

Peter withdrew his hand, her hands were sticky and wiped it on a napkin. "Yes, yes. And you?"

"I slept wonderfully! The beds here are just wonderful! I would love to have such a bed in our house!"

"That can certainly be arranged!" Friedrich smiled. "Do you want more?"

"Sure!" Babette pulled a plate of sausage to her and eagerly helped herself to it. "I want a big painting of me and Peter in the entrance area! With one of my horses."

"That sounds like a good idea." Her father nodded. "Didn't we generally want to arrange an appointment for a painting?"

"We had thought about commissioning one, yes." The Baroness smiled. "But we also have a beautiful painting by Babette that could be hung in the house." She looked at her stepdaughter. "The one with the swan? On which you are five years old? You should take a memento with you. And we would have room for a new painting!"

Peter did not want a painting of himself and Babette together. And also none with a horse. "How about a dragon? Instead of the horse?", he suggested, knowing full well that the idea was abstruse. But a dragon suited Babette, didn't it? The future house dragon?

"A dragon?" Babette frowned. "There are no dragons here! And I doubt that one would be painted with us. Dragons are dangerous! He'd rather eat us than get a painting!"

Maybe he'll eat you? Then my problems would be solved!

"Well, how about guinea pigs? Guinea pigs are cute! Both of us surrounded by cute guinea pigs!", he suggested. "With ribbons around their necks!"

Cleo laughed softly. "Or pigs?" She winked at Peter. "Because Babette likes sausage so much?", she whispered.

Peter grinned. It seemed that Cleo was not particularly fond of Babette either.

Babette hadn't heard Cleo's comment. Instead, she thought about the guinea pigs. "That sounds very silly! No. One of my horses."

"I also like the idea better", his mother announced. The queen looked at him angrily.

After breakfast, they said goodbye to the von Steinhofs. Babette hugged him and then tugged at his colorful scarf with a furrowed brow. "For the painting, we should wear something special. Don't you think? Something..." She let go of his scarf. "Appropriate. See you soon! Then we discuss the details of the painting... Dad has already commissioned some furniture for us and your mother promised to get us a generous bed!"

"How wonderful." Peter gently but firmly pushed her away from him. "See you … sooner or later..." Or never again!

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Peter spent the rest of the day in the library to distract himself. He looked at various novels until he found one that interested him. After a few hours, a servant approached him and told him that the queen was waiting for him in her office. So Peter put the novel back and made his way to his mother.

When he arrived at her office, he heard Cleo's voice. "They are instructed to make it look like a natural death. So that it isn’t going to cause any issues", she said.

"Very good. This woman is a thorn in my side! When will it happen?", his mother replied.

"Soon. As soon as a suitable moment arises. Tomorrow? Or the day after tomorrow?"

"Good. That would be all. Will you leave tomorrow?"

"Yes, mother. I return to the Elven Territory. I received a letter. Apparently, there were renewed uprisings in one of the cities. My soldiers have got the situation under control for the time being, but they fear further uprisings. They don't know yet how these small revolts are organized, now that the elves are no longer allowed to write letters and that there is a curfew."

"I'm sure you'll find out."

Peter felt queasy. His mother had ordered a murder? Someone was going to die? And then there were the riots...

Cleo left the Queen's office. She smiled at Peter and held the door open for him. "There you are. Mother was expecting you!" Peter walked past her with a nod. He was definitely nervous now.

The queen sat at her desk and looked at Peter from head to toe. "Sit down!" She pointed to the chair in front of her desk. Cleo closed the door behind him.

"You called for me?" Peter sat down on the chair as instructed and crossed his legs. "Can I help you, mother?"

"Do you want to ridicule us all, Peter?" The queen fixed him with an ice-cold look. "A nightgown? In front of our guests? I've watched your silly rebellion long enough. Since you refuse to come to your senses, I've found another solution."

"A solution?"

"I’ve instructed servants to clean out your wardrobe. They will remove any garment that is inappropriate for a prince! And also the silly jewelry! I had your sister's room locked. You won't help yourself to her stuff anymore! Peter! You're getting married soon! It's time for you to grow up. The nobility is mocking you!"

"You take my clothes away?" Peter looked at her in shock. "I'm an adult! You can't do that!"

"An Adult? It's time for you to act like an adult. I have cut off all your funds until further notice. I will take care of your clothes completely. Since you are obviously not able to dress appropriately. A servant will give you something appropriate every morning!"

"You can't do that!" Peter felt like the room was getting colder.

"I am the queen. Of course, I can. Your silliness has to come to an end. You can go now."

Peter felt as if he had been struck by lightning. His mother had his clothes cleaned out! Shaken, he got up and fled her office. He walked along the corridors of the castle until he arrived breathless at his room. As announced, he found several servants cleaning out his clothes and packing up his jewelry. They didn't let him stop them, no matter how hard he tried. After a short time, they were finished.

Peter stood in his dressing room, which now lacked a great part of his possessions. He pulled out his sister's necklace from under his linen shirt and held on to it. It was all gone. His jewelry. His scarves. His ribbons and also some of his clothes. All the beautiful things. Even his dressing gown was gone.

Sighing, he opened one of his wardrobes, in which was a box hidden in an upper compartment. He carefully brought it down and opened it. Relieved, he looked at the content. Fortunately, the servants had overlooked the box... And with it, the garment that was in it as well as some jewelry. He had put both aside for a special moment... And luckily, everything was still there. Peter smiled as a few tears came down his cheeks.

Simple suits?

That wasn't him.

It felt like his mother had stolen his newly found identity. It wasn't just a rebellion. Not only...

If he were a wizard, he could do and wear whatever he wanted. Then no one would criticize him. He was convinced of this. Why was he mortal?

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