Chapter 65: Chapter 58

Torsten

 

He stood in front of the counter of a small butcher's shop. His mother had sent him to buy some cold cuts. He looked at the display. The cold cuts in the castle had looked much better. More expensive than the offer here. He bought what his mother had told him to, then he made his way home.

When she learned of the sudden engagement, she was shocked.

Torsten didn't expect anything else.

"A vampire?" His mother had looked at him in shock. "You're supposed to marry a vampire? And to leave home? No, Torsten. This won't do. I will ask for an audience with the Queen."

"Are you sure you'll even get to see the Queen?", he said. "I will leave this simple life behind, mother! I don't care how."

"But with the vampires?"

"She's a princess. Isn't that better than any nobles, without influence?" He smiled. "I have to admit, I was outraged at first. But I'm starting to like the idea."

"The Vampire Territory! Torsten! No. Vampires are only interested in blood!"

He shrugged his shoulders. "What is some blood in exchange for power?"

Now, on his way home, he couldn't wait. His mother did not understand him. She had never understood him. She wanted him to have a simple life, with a simple job. For a few years, he had done her the favor. But Torsten was striving for more. Whether witches or vampires. He didn't care. He unlocked the door of his mother's house. A small, simple house with old furniture. It was silent. Torsten frowned. His mother had wanted to bake bread but couldn’t hear anything.

With a furrowed brow, he went into the kitchen.

There he saw his mother. She was sitting at the kitchen table. Dead.

 

Peter

 

Servants had laid out a simple suit for him, which he had put on in a bad mood. Shortly they were waiting for the painter to make a painting of him and Babette. He sat with his father in a carriage on the way to Babette's parent's house, where the painting was to be made. After all, Babette wished that one of her horses could be seen with them in the picture.

Peter looked out of the window of the carriage. The sun was shining outside. He would have preferred rain. His father had forced him to have his hair cut to make him look neat in the picture. Since then, Peter refused to speak to him. Why should he cut his hair? That was silly. Fritz had long hair and that had never been a problem.

"Peter? That's silly!" The king sighed. "You act like a little child."

Peter did not respond.  If that was the case, then he behaved like a child! And?

I didn't want any of that!

When the carriage drove onto the von Steinhofs' property, Babette was already waiting for them. She stood on the doorstep of the spacious estate and smiled happily.

"Welcome!", she shouted as Peter and his father got out of the carriage. "The painter is already here! It's so exciting!"

"Wonderful." Friedrich nodded. "And where is the picture going to be painted?"

"In front of the horse stable." Babette pointed to a smaller building next to the estate. "Little Shooting Star is already looking forward to the picture! The servants dressed her up!"

Then she looked at Peter. "You look good. I already feared what you might wear, but that was in vain."

"I'm reassured. You look... interesting." Peter looked at the clothing choices of his future wife. She wore riding clothes and a very large, elaborately designed hat, which reminded Peter of a crooked wedding cake. Babette wore a gold ribbon around her neck. "Fancy hat."

Babette smiled. "I have one for you too. The hat will look great with your suit."

Peter hoped to have misheard, but a little later he stood in front of the stable with a much too large top hat, which was decorated with a lavish golden ribbon, matching Babette's ribbon. So, a silly ribbon is fine, but my jewelry isn't?  He sighed.

A large wreath hung in front of the stable, and large pumpkins, and hay bales stood on the floor as decoration. Peter stood next to Little Shooting Star, on which Babette sat for the painting. She did her best to look sublime and noble, but her hat missed its purpose phenomenally. Shooting Star wore a golden ribbon around his neck, which the animal was not happy about. Expensive, sparkling beads were sewn onto the bow. Restlessly, shooting stars shook his head, again and again, to get rid of the ribbon and tried to eat the wreath from time to time. And to make matters worse, the horse had flatulence. So Peter stood in front of the farting animal and stared ahead annoyed while his nose was tortured.

"Shooting Star! Don't!", reprimanded Babette for the hundredth time. Since the animal was about to eat the whole wreath. The horse didn't let that stop her and pushed Peter. At the same time, the painter kindly asked Peter to smile. But Peter was not in the mood for a smile. Not when a smelly horse threatened to knock him over.

"Shooting Star!" In the meantime, the horse had successfully taken the wreath from the wall and chewed it. It stepped on one of the pumpkins, which crashed apart and splashed up to Peter's trouser leg.

It was a disaster.

Peter sighed. Again.

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After a few hours, the ordeal was over, for the time being. But the next day the painter wanted to continue his work. Therefore, Peter and his father spent the night with the von Steinhofs. In total, they would stay the entire week, except for the weekend. Peter just wanted to go home. Instead, he sat at the coffee table with his fiancée and her parents, drinking sweet tea and eating dry cakes.

Babette talked about how much she was looking forward to the finished painting and already knew exactly where she wanted to hang it. Then she thought about how many children she wanted to have. Three? Or would she prefer five? She asked Peter how many he wanted. He just shrugged.

Peter didn't like children.

They were loud and annoying.

Children were not present in the plan for his life. Unlike Babette’s.

She wanted all their children to learn to ride at an early age and get their own horses. Her parents thought the idea was great, and Peter's father also seemed very happy with the prospect of becoming a grandfather soon. Peter was silent.

Instead, he thought about when he wanted to visit Julia.

Maybe on a weekend? During the week there were various dates, now that the wedding was getting closer and closer. In addition to the gruesome painting.

Peter had to decide.  Did he want a life with Babette? Or did he want to give up all the wealth and seek distance? But where should he go? What should he do?

He had not attended university and had not learned a profession. Unlike his siblings. None of this had ever interested him. He knew his way around politics, yes. He was not uneducated. But apart from being a prince, he had nothing to show. And now he had no access to his parent's money. At least until the wedding.

How should he visit Julia?

He probably had to ask his parents to arrange a carriage for him. They certainly would have no objections to his idea of visiting Julia.

And under no circumstances did he want to put on that terrible hat again! It was bad enough that there would be a painting of it!

 

Marie

 

She was lying in her bed.

The last day had been exhausting. After the funeral service, the mood had been depressed. One of her classmates was dead and Theo was still ill. Although a healer took care of him, she was worried. She had written a letter to his parents to let them know.

A few days ago, she had also received a letter from her parents. Her little sister had contracted the disease and her parents had difficulty finding a healer who was familiar with the new disease. Theo's parents had also been infected, but they were healthy again. They had found a healer for the two of them, but then Mia fell ill a few days later, and they could not reach the healer. Marie did not know how her sister was doing, or whether she had survived the disease.

She was afraid.

What if Mia didn't survive the disease?

Marie would never see her again. She would not have been able to say goodbye. Worried, she had also written a letter to her parents and put it in the same envelope as the letter to Theo's parents.

Her roommate was studying for a test and felt disturbed by Marie, who tossed and turned restlessly and fought back tears. Finally, Marie gave in and made her way to Julia. Maybe the princess had some time for her?

Julia had nothing planned and was happy about the visit.

They sat down together in Julia's room, her servant brought them tea and biscuits and talked about the last day of school. Julia was just as sad as Marie and hoped very much that her little sister would soon feel better. They talked until it was time for dinner, which Marie was welcome to stay for.

At dinner, she noticed that the elf and the princess sat very close and smiled at each other again and again. The same was true for the two werewolves.

"Did I miss something?", she asked.

"What would you have missed?", the princess wanted to know.

Marie pointed to her and her servant. "Is there anything to tell?"

Julia turned red. "No. I don't think so. Why?"

Marie grinned. I DO think so.  "Are you sure?" She winked at her.

"Yes. I am!" Julia looked at her plate with a red head.

"Of course." Marie saw her suspicions confirmed. The princess and her servant. So, they were really together. She had already seen it coming.

The two wolves laughed softly and exchanged knowing glances.

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