Bastian
Chapter 8 - Not a Bad Prize

✧Not a Bad Prize✧

*.·:·.✧.·:·.* S~ᴇaʀᴄh the No(ᴠ)ᴇlFire.nᴇt website on G𝘰𝘰gle to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The city’s landscape abruptly changed beyond the bridge. The streets were disorganised and untidy, with crumbling and worn-out buildings lining them. 

In between the crooked flagstones of the pavement, weeds grew, trash was thrown out carelessly, and posters for labour offices looking for maids and day labourers flitted in the river air.

Odette paused for a moment to regain her breath; the weight of the supermarket bag was making her arms hurt. Even the impoverished residential neighborhood on the periphery was affected by the city’s pink tint as the sun fell.

Odette continued walking as the discomfort in her arms started to fade. She had intense sadness as she looked at the spring blossoms, which had been breathtakingly lovely just this morning. Her gloom was heightened by the filthy storefront windows, the uninterested onlookers, and the far-off cries and obscenities.

“This is who. Oh, it’s the begging duke’s daughter “she overheard laughter and mockery when she rounded the corner. 

She knew the voice without having to turn her head. It belonged to the man who owned the grocery store on the ground floor of her building. She had shopped there when they first moved in, but stopped shopping eventually when he started mocking her with vulgar jokes.

“Looks like you’re having a hard time carrying that heavy load. Is the food in this town so unpalatable that you don’t want to put it in that pretty mouth of yours?”

The man, who had waddled to the front of the store, leered at Odette with a gleam in his eye. Though, It happened every time she walked by.

Odette simply looked ahead and quickened her pace. If it was just the ramblings of a cruel man, she would endure it and move on. But the resentment she felt was new and likely a result of an especially trying day.

As the man’s voice grew fainter, a building of rented houses came into view.

Odette trudged across the threshold, her steps weary. As she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the old mirror hanging over the entrance, she let out a deep sigh she didn’t realize she had been holding this long.

Odette had set out on the road that morning, dressed in her finest outfit, but now, as she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt like a clown in ridiculous makeup. As she turned away from the mirror, she heard a familiar voice. It was Mrs. Palmer, the wife of the building superintendent.

“I think another fight broke out in that house. It sounds serious, hurry up, and let’s go!” Mrs. Palmer exclaimed, her eyes wide with concern.

Without a faint trace hesitation, Odette started running up the stairs, her items scattered around her as she climbed. She reached the top floor and opened the unlocked front door, only to find a broken vase and shattered glass scattered across the living room floor. These were things Tira, her sister, had brought home just a few days ago.

As she heard the roar coming from her sisters’ room, Odette knew she had to hurry. She ran to the room to find Tira, her sister, crouched between her closet and the wall, defending a small box with her whole body.

“Tira” She called after her.  It was the box where the sisters kept their emergency money. Odette’s gaze turned to her father, Duke Dyssen, who was red-faced and drunk, his arm raised and ready to strike Tira again.

Without hesitation, Odette ran to Tira and hugged her tightly, shielding her from the blow that came next. The force of the blow was so strong that Odette’s hat was knocked off and sent flying across the room, but she did not make a sound. She held her sister tightly, offering her protection and comfort as she cried out in pain and fear.

“Odette! Why are you…” Duke Dyssen stammered, taking a step back in embarrassment.

With Tira still held tightly in her arms, Odette stood up, her eyes filled with anger and contempt as she glared at her father. She could see the fear in his eyes as he glanced at the box containing their emergency funds.

“Please leave this room immediately,” Odette commanded with a powerful and unwavering voice.

But Duke Dyssen was not done yet. “This is all because of that cheeky girl. Seeing you get vulgar day by day. You have your mother’s blood alright,” he muttered lame excuses, trying to shift the blame.

But Tira was not going to take it. “No. It is all thanks to father’s blood that I am shallow!” she yelled in anger.

The room was filled with the sound of curses and insults flying back and forth as the father and daughter fought. But Odette had had enough. “Stop!” she shouted, her eyes closed tightly.

Slowly opening her eyes, she glared at her father, “Don’t touch Tira again. If this happens one more time, I won’t put up with it any longer.”

“What if I don’t?” he sneered.

“The thing father fears most will happen,” Odette replied, unflinching in the face of her father’s fury.

“You dare to threaten your father?” he shouted, but Odette stood her ground, her resolve unwavering.

This was a showdown, a battle of wills between father and daughter, and Odette was not backing down. She stood tall, her strength and determination on full display, ready to fight for what was right.

Odette was fully aware that her father would never let her leave as long as she received the pension. For it is imperative to preserve even the last link to the royal family. Odette came to the realization that she might be her father’s biggest weakness the day she learned this.

“You horrible thing,”

As Duke Dyssen sneered at Odette and stormed out of the room, the silence that followed was deafening. Odette finally let out a sigh of relief and turned to her sister, who was still clinging to the emergency fund box, tears streaming down her face.

Odette gently helped her sister up and sat her down on the bed. “From now on, just give him the money. It’s better than getting hurt,” she said, trying to console her.

But Tira was having none of it. “No!” she exclaimed, shaking her head fiercely. “I will not give up what is rightfully ours. We will not be victims anymore. We will fight back.”

With a renewed determination in her eyes, Tira stood up, ready to take on the world and anyone who dared to hurt her or her family again. Odette stood by her side, ready to support and protect her sister no matter what. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with.

“I won’t allow someone like father to rob me of even a dime. I would rather prefer to get severely beaten.”

“Tira….”

“Don’t make me act as honorable as you,. sister. How is it possible for a Princess’ daughter to think the same as an illegitimate kid born to a maid?” Tira screamed as she pushed Odette’s hand away to examine her cut face. “Sister, you are totally in the dark. You’re the one who gets to dress up like a princess and wear expensive clothing; how can you possibly know how I feel?” Tira, with a sarcastic comment on her lips, stormed past Odette. The sound of the warehouse door slamming shut echoed through the house, leaving Odette standing alone, staring out the window at the night view of the Prater River. She watched as a massive warship sailed under the drawbridge, heading towards the dock of the Admiralty.

With a deep sigh, Odette closed her eyes and began to undress, shedding the clothes that no longer fit her. She reached into the depths of her closet, pulling out her mother’s memento, a beautiful water-blue dress, and the memories it held that she did not want to recall. The fate of her cherished shoes, gloves, and broken hat were no different.

Dressed in her old cotton dress, Odette began to tidy her hair, which was a mess from her father’s beating. The sun set on a Wednesday as she cleaned up the debris and gathered the groceries that had been scattered across the stairwell. The door to the warehouse where Tira had retreated remained firmly closed, a sign that her sister needed more time alone.

 Odette headed to the kitchen to make dinner, after bandaging the wound that caused bleeding.

Princess’ performance was over. It was now time to head back to the Odette von Dyssen.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

“And here is a letter from the imperial palace,” the butler, Loris, announced with confusion as he presented the letter to Bastian.

Bastian, who had just finished signing his chequebook , slowly turned his gaze to the letter Loris had delivered. An empty envelope and a wax seal stamped with the imperial coat of arms, it was a letter that could be identified by its sender without even opening it.

With an unlit cigarette between his lips, Bastian carefully opened the envelope, the strong scent of perfume wafting out as he did so. Inside, he found the name he had been expecting: Princess Isabelle, the impulsive child who had caused chaos in his carefree life.

The unexpectedness of her marriage, an apologies, and her unrequited love.

Bastian read it with a cold and calculating gaze. Nothing in the letter surprised him. The princess was fixated on her love, mimicking the old court love poems of a princess and a knight. As he read the letter, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of understanding for the Emperor, who had lost his mind worrying about his daughter.

“Master, I sincerely apologize.” The butler shook his head and expressed regret. “Her Highness the princess  gave me strong instructions to be sure to deliver it, despite my attempts to refuse to accept it.”

“There is nothing to worry about.” Bastian got up from his desk, lit a cigarette, and laughed carelessly.

For years, the princess had been using her personal maid to mail letters. Although it had been a while since he had even responded formally, her resolve remained unwavering.

Bastian threw the letter into the fireplace as he crossed the study. The sinking sun had turned the western sky, which could be seen through the window, red. 

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Bastian enjoyed a much-needed evening of relaxation.

He smoked casually and then got dressed for his workout before leaving the house. The night had come after he had run through a park in the middle of the city.

Bastian made his way home, following the promenade that led to the back door of his townhouse. As he stepped out of a long, relaxing shower, he heard an urgent knock at his door.

“Come in,” Bastian called out as he tied the belt of his robe.

The butler, Loris, entered the room with quick steps and a trembling voice. “This is a letter from the imperial palace,” he said, holding out an envelope.

Bastian opened the window facing the garden and turned to the butler. Two letters in one day, he thought to himself, his irritation with the princess reaching a boiling point.

“It’s an invitation to the ball to celebrate Her Majesty’s birthday. You are now a guest at the imperial palace, master,” Loris said, his eyes reddening with emotion.

Bastian opened the colorful envelope with an expressionless face. On the invitation to the imperial ball, his name, Bastian Klauswitz, was engraved in bold letters, a clear indication of the reward for agreeing to the marriage proposal.

“Your mother in heaven would be very happy,” Loris whispered, wiping away tears.

Bastian nodded and put the invitation down, how his mother truly felt was unknown to him, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling of his stepmother in Ardene, who would probably not be able to sleep at night, and might even fall ill from her anger.

Bastian switched his attention to the garden, where a pleasant night wind was blowing, and grinned contentedly. Odette’s visage drifted briefly over the budding spring flowers before dissipating. 

She would soon see him again..

If that was the case, the payoff wasn’t awful.

Sᴇarch the ɴo(v)elFɪre.ɴet website on G𝘰oglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.