Bastian
Chapter 190 - Helene’s Daughter

✧Helene’s Daughter✧

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The boy cycled up the hill to the door Odette was patiently waiting at. His cheeks were rosy from the cold and he passed Odette a newspaper with an exhausted smile. 

“Thank you.” Odette handed the child two freshly boiled warm eggs. The boy bowed his head before peddling away to the next house.

   Holding he newspaper like it was a love letter, Odette turned back into the town house. Her breath visible in the chill winter air. Once inside the house, she closed her eyes and said a little prayer before opening the paper. Today the front page was filled with an article praising the heroic efforts of Major Klauswitz. 

   Odette settled into an armchair in front of the fireplace and read through the paper. The fighting at Trosa was growing more and more intense with each passing day. The momentum of the Berg military, which had taken the initiative, was starting to slow after the capture of a major Lovita fort. The war took a turn when Ethar, an ally of Lovita, joined the war effort.

   The North Sea front was hit hard, after reinforcements from Ethar arrived, the naval fleet stationed in Lovita was able to secure supply routes through the blockade. However, these routes were quickly blocked again and the front line was pushed further south. This caused a sense of panic throughout the empire as they feared an enemy invasion on their mainland.

 Luckily, Berg’s fleet was able to secure the North Sea and protect it from enemy forces. Their all-out offensive was successful in reclaiming the main ground line and reopening the crucial supply route.

  But Odette was not happy. Not because of the progress of the war, but because she kept seeing Bastian’s name on everything. Everyday new leaflets were printed and distributed. Every day new posters were put up. Every day the newspapers were filled with articles about Bastian’s heroics.

   Major Bastian Klauswitz, the hero of the North Sea.

   He had gone from being known as the junk dealers grandson, a scoundrel who ate his father and a spoiled brat who say on a throne of scrap and blood, to becoming the saviour of the empire. Even the social elite, who had rejected Bastian, were singing his praises.

   Yesterday, a charity fundraising event was held at the opera house, to build new battleships for the North Sea Fleet. Odette stared at the photo of Bastian for a long time.

   “You’re still on the chessboard,” Odette said, a pang of sadness in her words. She didn’t want to hear Bastian’s name on the lips of those who slandered and mocked him. She turned away and headed back home, knowing it would be another difficult day.

   “Ma’am, you’ve woken early,” said a maid, coming into the room for her morning chores. The puppies immediately bounded around her feet, trying to trip the poor girl.

   Odette put down the newspaper, fighting the urge to toss it into the fire. Instead, she let it drop to the floor, where the puppies immediately began attacking it. She then informed the maid of her duties today.

   “Countess Trier is coming over later, so please make sure the food she likes is prepared.”

“Yes, ma’am. Don’t worry. I am well-versed in the Countess’s tastes.” the maid said with a nod, tickling the corners with a feather duster. She was a maid in the Countess’s household before serving as the housemaid here.

   Odette did not want a maid, but Countess Trier deemed the house too big for one person to look after, so provided her with a maid. Odette struggled with accepting the company, but had no choice really. In the end, she accepted on the condition that she would handle the wages herself.

   The new residence had been prepared by Count Xanders and Countess Trier together. It was located in the centre of Ratz and even though it was small compared to the mansion, it was a decently sized house and nice enough for one to live alone.

  It had been three months since she had lived here and she couldn’t believe that the house was all hers. She also couldn’t believe the pension she had been given, which was paid into her private account each month, with Bastian’s alimony on top of that.

Bastian’s lawyer also informed her about a trust fund for her, which will pay monthly, allowances for five years before being terminated. To end the contract, she must appoint a property manager or prove her ability to manage the inherited wealth. The lawyer assured her this was for protection due to her sudden wealth, but she didn’t feel disappointed. She knew what Bastian was worried about and how much he lcared for her. She understood vverything.

   Odette gazed out across the sun drenched sitting room, the chilly winter air snuck in from the windows, but she hardly noticed it. She felt calm and serene, her eyes resting on the piano in the corner.

   The house had been in perfect condition since the beginning, from the furniture and decorations, to the household items. Everything was in its place, carefully curated by Count Xanders, who explained that the previous owner, who had moved to the new continent, had sold everything in the house with the house. The piano too.

   “Um, ma’am?” the maid said cautiously, waking Odette from her trance.

   “Oh, sorry, I got lost in thought,” Odette said. She quickly went upstairs to get dressed.

   Three times a week, Odette worked at the Military Advisory Agency, translating messages from abroad. She had seen an advertisement in the paper and thought it would be a good way to keep herself busy. At first, the interviewer had been dismissive of her, but once he found out that she could speak and read Felia, he was all for her. It also helped that she had been married to a military hero and had royal blood helped also.

   She mainly handled clerical work, as any military intelligence were handled by vetted soldiers. Still, Odette was pleased to be able to do her part in the war effort. It was also a place where she could quickly receive news of Bastian, though she no longer had the right to receive news of him. 

Every morning, on her way to the naval base, Odette had to remind herself of this fact. And today she dressed in a modest blouse, skirt, topped with a dark gray coat, hat, and gloves. Her footsteps echoed on the frozen streets, cutting through the cold air.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Once the supplies arrived, the mood on the ship lightened a little. Bastian had checked the repairs on the aft deck, which had been damaged in the engagement yesterday. There was a long line of people queuing up outside the clerks little office, waiting to see if they had any letters from loved ones back home.

   The air was filled with chatting that issued from smiling faces and relaxed expressions. They all turned their attention to Bastian as he walked past. Their demeanour changed quickly, as they all stood to attention and saluted.

   Bastian returned a simple salute and turned to walk down an opposite corridor leading to the bridge.

   “Ah, Major Klauswitz,” the postal working called his name. “There are letters for you too, and a parcel.”

   Bastian was a little surprised about this and took the letters and parcel. Instead of going to the bridge, Bastian took his correspondence to his quarters.

   He puffed on a cigarette as he considered the envelopes. There were letters from the Ardenne estate, his company and other friends serving in different parts of the war. They all carried new years greetings. His aunt had sent a hand knitted blanket. He completely forgot the end of the year was fast approaching. Odette’s birthday would be soon.

   Despite the war, her upcoming birthday would be better than last year when she was trapped in hell. He then chuckle to himself, she would probably have a better birthday with Count Xanders. Count Xanders also kept his promise, as confirmed by the report from the lawyer.

Odette was safely settled in Ratz, now the full owner of the townhouse Bastian had bought. It brought him comfort to see her, once a lonely wanderer, now with her own home.

   After haphazardly arranging the cards and gifts on his small desk, Bastian stood and looked out the porthole across the sea. HMS Rayvael was ordered to escort a military supply ship passing through the waters where Lovita lurked. They should be entering the safe zone some time tomorrow.

   The sea turned red as the winter sun began to sink into the horizon. He sat back down again at his desk and opened the drawer. Inside was the emperors promise. He knew that it was a sensitive matter and that it might take time because of the war, but two seasons have already passed. He couldn’t afford to sit back and wait any longer.

   The hero of the North Sea.

   Bastian knew all too well the power that title held and how he could use it. Bastian made up his mind and began to pen a letter.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

The grand procession of cars and carriages passed through the gates of the grand palace. The Emperor stood by the window and watched them filter in. Today was going to be a busy and emotional day, that considered family more than anything.

   Helene’s legacy.

   The imperial councillors, upon hearing of the days agenda, were viably irate and sported disproving looks. They couldn’t understand why the Emperor would bring up the matter of his deceased sister at a time when the entire empire was engulfed by war. The criticism was not withheld either.

   The decision was brought about by a letter of new years greetings from a hero on the front line. Before the season changed. Bastian Klauswitz had set his own deadline. If their deal was not concluded by then, then the alliance would be shaken greatly. He presented plausible reasoning and righteousness, but the threat of it was more like a loan shark collecting debts.

   At first glance, it seemed like Bastian had the inferior position, but in the end, he would win the game. He might as well have confessed that Odette was his weakness. The Emperor no longer disliked Duke Dyssen. A beautiful daughter who was a lot like her father became a leash to dame a hell hound.

   The Emperor found it difficult to understand what love had to do with any of it. He only felt pity, a cold calculating mind that only considered what was right for the empire. Now that the decision had been sternly made, it would be easy to bend the will of a stubborn man, but today he was determined to do whatever it took.

   The empire needed a hero, and the hero wanted the crown for his discarded wife. So, Helene’s daughter must wear her mothers crown, whether he liked it or not, for the sake of the empire.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

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