Chapter Text
The silverware was so shiny Ernst could see the reflection of his own face.
He should have been pleased with it, given that he had spent the last two hours polishing it himself. Yet, despite getting through the task with his trademark dedication and precision, he couldn't help but look disconsolately at the enormous table on which the silverware and trays sat, which apparently were uninterested in his uneasy state of mind.
It wasn't a task he usually handled. He could easily have left that unpleasant chore to the scullery maid who, despite being a new hire, had already earned the trust of the entire castle staff thanks to her ease and willingness to make herself useful.
Or maybe, he could have asked Emil, who would surely have agreed to help him, with one of his usual heartwarming smiles, simply in exchange for a quick secret kiss shared in the privacy of his office.
Indeed, he had initially considered passing the job on to someone else, busy as he was with the preparations to welcome the nobles King Sigmar would soon be hosting at court.
However, he needed a break from the pile of documents neatly arranged on his desk, so he decided to take on the task himself as he couldn't stay focused on his other responsibilities.
He had initially tried to blame the noise coming from the kitchen, which, alas, managed to reach his ears despite the door of his office being closed.
The servants' area of the castle used to become a chaotic environment when preparations to welcome guests were underway, so unfortunately he was no stranger to the idle chatter and ringing laughter echoing through the corridors and he was now accustomed to working with such background noises.
Ah. He had contradicted himself. It wasn't the maids' chatter that was keeping him focused.
The real problem was something else entirely, but stubborn as he was, he had decided to ignore it and move on with his day. He didn't need to indulge in melancholic, nostalgic thoughts.
Furthermore, he didn't want to appear gloomy and worry his beloved Emil, who had been by his side from the beginning and had helped him slowly heal from the pain.
Almost two years had already passed. A year and nine months, to be exact.
It didn't seem possible that so much time had passed since his father's death. When he saw him take his last breath in that anonymous white bed in the infirmary, it felt as if the world had suddenly stopped.
It took a few hours for his mind to truly grasp what had happened, to abandon the belief that, once he opened the door to his office, he would see his father sitting at his desk as always, ready to welcome him in and give him a proud smile.
Once he realized he'd never see him again, he spent the following week pretending nothing had happened. He'd overloaded himself with work to the point of barely finding time to eat, and by evening he was so exhausted that he fell asleep as soon as he touched the pillow, leaving him no time for anxious thoughts.
He managed to hold on for a few days, until the pain he had tried to repress leaked out of his chest and drove him to burst into tears in front of Emil in his father's office, which now belonged to him. He cried like he'd never cried before, wrapped in his partner's embrace, who caressed his back and whispered words of comfort.
Emil's presence had been crucial in his grief. He slowly recovered, although a few relapses in the following weeks had forced him to retreat back into his partner's arms. He hated appearing weak as he always felt like a burden to him, despite Emil's repeated denials when he expressed his concerns.
That was why, almost two years later, on Father's Day, he was reluctant to show his partner that he still felt sad about the loss of his father. Besides, Emil had other things to worry about. In addition to his duties as butler, he constantly had to look after little Prince Theodor.
As a matter of fact, the now seven-year-old boy had taken a liking to Emil for his affable nature, and as soon as he managed to escape his nurturer’s attentions, he would rush over to the butler and spend time with him, unwittingly making him a part-time nanny. The task would even have been quite simple, if Theodor had been able to sit still for more than ten seconds straight.
Fortunately, the little prince was the only rambunctious child in the castle. His twin sister was, in fact, of a calmer nature, although there had been moments when she had allowed herself to be drawn into one of her brother's usual mischief.
Princess Amalea usually entertained herself by drawing in one of the palace's enormous halls, the one that overlooked the section of the garden filled with plum trees. It was one of the brightest rooms, and the walls were decorated with still-life frescoes that she loved to copy onto paper with her pencil.
Ernst interrupted his train of thought. Before turning his attention to the silverware that afternoon, he had passed through that hall, but it had been empty. It was probably nothing to worry about; perhaps she was playing in the courtyard with Prince Theodor. After all, when Amalea wasn't busy expressing her imagination on paper, she was spending her time with her brother.
Once he'd finished putting the cutlery collection away in the finely carved cabinet, he headed toward the kitchens, passing through the familiar small corridor used by the court servants.
Ernst hadn't even reached his destination before he distinctly heard the ringing voice of Prince Theodor. When he crossed the threshold into the kitchens, he saw the boy standing on a chair, telling Emil who knows what with great emphasis and a big, wide smile. The butler was leaning elegantly against the long kitchen table, completely at ease. Judging by his expression, he found the prince's story hilarious.
At first, he was mesmerized by his companion's naturalness, his face, the wrinkles that had formed around his eyes from smiling too much. Then he forced himself to snap back to reality. There were other servants in the kitchen. He couldn't just stare at Emil every time he saw him, or they'd understand. And that absolutely could not happen.
— Your Highness, could you tell me where your sister is?
Theodor seemed almost annoyed at being interrupted. He turned to stare at Ernst. — I haven’t seen Molli in a long time, actually. Frau Durian made me do homework all afternoon. All afternoon! It was horrible, — he complained, dramatically spreading his arms, looking at him with a very offended look, as if it was Ernst who had asked the governess to force him study on Sundays too.
— Very good, — Ernst completely ignored the little prince’s last comment and left the kitchens, but not before glancing at Emil, who had put a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.
He made another quick check of Amalea’s favorite room, but there was no sign of her. He then looked in the twins’ bedrooms but they were empty and, being completely tidy, they didn’t even hint at the little princess’s possible presence.
He hurried down the main stairs, exiting into the huge royal courtyard. If he'd been any servant, he would have searched far and wide for her, but bs a matter of fact, he wasn't just any servant. He was Ernst Hassell, steward of the Winterberg Castle, and he knew Princess Amalea very well.
He took one of the dirt paths to the side, the one that led to the swing he had built for the twins and had hung from the sturdiest oak tree in the royal gardens. Following the road and carefully placing every step to not get dirt on his shoes, he soon reached the tree he was looking for.
As predicted, he came across a mane of reddish-brown hair. Amalea was sitting on the grass, her small body leaning against the trunk. At first glance, it looked like she was staring at the tips of her black shoes, but as he approached, Ernst, with a sinking heart, noticed the little princess's vacant look. Her face was streaked with tears.
He coughed to get her attention, and she jumped, gasping in fright. When she turned and met the worried eyes of her favorite servant, she relaxed her shoulders and looked toward some bramble bush in the distance.
Ernst sat down on the black iron bench a few meters away from her, to give her some space. Evidently he didn't need to, because she immediately stood up and climbed the bench, struggling a little to sit next to him as the seat was too high.
They stayed silent for a few seconds until the princess burst out with a sentence that stunned the steward.
— Daddy does not love me, does he?
It was so unexpected that he was left speechless. He gave her a questioning look, and his silence prompted Amalea to take a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her white dress. She handed it to him and continued. — I do not know if you know, but it is Father's Day today, so I painted this for him. I thought he would be happy, but he did not even look at it. It made me really sad, — she sniffed. — And then he started to scream. It is because he does not love me, right?
Ernst unfolded the paper to reveal the drawing of a sunflower. Above the flower, the words "Happy Father's Day" were written in uncertain capital letters. He instinctively caressed the bright yellow petals. Even though the king was a dear friend of his father, seeing how he treated his children made his blood boil. And it made his chest feel heavy.
Ernst himself wasn't the son his father would have wanted, yet he always managed to keep the part of himself his father would have hated hidden from him. Ernst knew very well that he remained in his good graces because he had managed to never let him know about Emil and what he truly felt for him. And to think that was one of the parts of himself he loved most. He had never understood how that damned butler always managed to bring out the best in him, but Ernst was grateful he did.
However, his experience didn't apply to the twins. They had no part to hide. Their very existence was unwanted by their father, considered a mistake. And the two children suffered because of him. If only he realized the unconditional love they were willing to give him. Or maybe he did, but he just didn't care.
— You know, Hasi¹ , sometimes adults make mistakes. They focus on the bad things and struggle to see the good things, even when they're right in front of them, — he stared at an undefined spot in the grass. He wanted to tell her that the king would change, that her father would understand sooner or later, but he knew it would be a lie. The girl was small, but very smart for her age. Too smart. Deceiving her could only hurt her even more. He opted for a half-truth.
— Sometimes these adults change, get better with time, other times they don't. But it is important that you remember your worth and that you notice the people who know this value and treasure you — Amala looked him in the eyes. She had stopped crying.
— Unfortunately, your father is wrong with you and your brother. He does not realize how special you are, and he does not understand that his actions have repercussions on you and how you feel. And it is wrong, an adult should know how fragile the human soul is, yet that is not always the case. However, beautiful things, if they're truly beautiful, are appreciated. And you are appreciated. By Prince Theodor, by me, by Herr Montel, by Frau Durian, and everyone around you. If you weren't special, you wouldn't have so many people by your side.
Amalea picked up the paper from his hands and dangled her legs. She considered Ernst's words. — If I could decide, you would be my dad, — she wiped away her tears. — You would be the best dad in the world.
Ernst summoned all his strength not to cry. He told himself he'd let it all out later, in the safety of his room. But not in front of the little girl. The last thing the little princess needed was to see him weep.
— And I care for you as if you were my own daughter. Unfortunately, I have to confess, but I must ask you to never tell him, I love your brother too. But I would rather it remained a secret between us.
Amalaa giggled, and Ernst couldn't help but be relieved to see the princess's good mood return.
She was silent for a few seconds, then met his gaze. — I have changed my mind, Herr Hassell. Can I give the flower to you?
Ernst blinked to stop the tears before it was too late. — I would be honored. I will arrange it in the display cabinet in my office. — After Amalea handed him the drawing again, he folded it carefully and slipped it into the inside pocket of his business suit, the pocket near his heart.
— Now, Hasi, before I came here, I saw Theodor in the kitchen, waiting for his afternoon snack. It would not be fair to you if he finished all the cake, right?
The princess gasped, her mouth opening dramatically. — We have to get back to the castle right now, before it is too late,— she jumped down from the bench, the concern on her face could have been visible miles away. Ernst laughed and stood up, following the princess. He promised himself he would do anything to protect her and never see her cry again.
¹ literally “bunny”. Affectionate German nickname used mainly with children.