Cihlar & Egeler - The Saint and her Fool

His arm falls to his side, rattling the golden bracelet on his wrist; a gift his young wife had bestowed upon him.

„Ridiculous childish rubbish,“ he mutters to himself. „And yet this suddenly feels more like a slave chain.” He fumbles with the fastening, tugging with his strong hands in hurried force at the quite dainty lock, until a segment breaks and he is able to slip it off. He opens a small cassette and tosses the bracelet carelessly into it. On his strong, yet fine structured wrist bone, appears a ring of dark red. Surely from his tugging at the bracelet and yet…he sees it as a sign. He had always had a very faint red circle around his wrist, as he has also noticed on his daughter. Should there really be a remnant of an ancient injustice; some forgotten act that might disgrace the family? It had always been considered as a hereditary indication, just as the pendulous lower lip of the Habsburgs. Nothing had ever been accounted to him that would make him assume these marks should be a portent to an occurrence in the past.

„I must speak of this to the Earl tomorrow; he seems to know something. There should be a reason, he had shown me the blue dwarf from the castle; maybe some ancestral memories? I am sure, I can leave Rosemarie under his supervision this winter; he seems to know more of what stirs in her mind and heart than I – even without reading her lines. It will be better for the child anyway, than to spend this time in Berlin and with her young Mama; who does not care for her anyway!

Oh my dear child! My desire is to understand and be close to you. I thank you for your secret.“

In his mind’s eye, he sees his daughter mysteriously smiling at him, also perceiving the faint red marks on her delicate wrist, just as the ones on his skin.

Chapter 13

The winter in Brauneck is peaceful and picturesque. Rosemarie skates on the ice of the river, where it is safe, and she attends her confirmation classes with diligence. She no longer wears her hair open, for it is too long.; it is plaited into two braids bound together with a ribbon. She wears a dark blue school uniform with jacket and matching cap. Frau von Hardenstein always accompanies her to the entrance of the church room for her lessons; this room is elevated, with dark, wooden panels and indicates the awareness of spiritual thoughts. The names of long deceased chaplains and preachers are neatly arrayed along the passage; written in white letters on black plaques, each with white crosses behind their names. Once a monastery had been in the castle; founded by ancestors of Brauneck. The building which was now named the Princess Tower, a quite palatial section, had once been the cathedral chapter.

The first name to be read goes back to the year 1588. There are also some old boxes, the wooden surface untreated and without ornament or paint, and it would surely be interesting to see the contents of them. In front, there was a lectern made also of raw pine wood, with a carved crucifix.

On this desk and also on the complete surroundings of it, countless stains of ink can be seen. Rosemarie finds herself thinking, it looks as if it had rained ink. She sits on the rear pews with the girls; the boys all sit up front. Rosemarie has become very fond of this room; she feels comfortable here from the first moment. The air in this room has a special, reassuring scent. A small brown tiled stove stands sturdily on bronze metal feet, which are cast in the form of a lion, and it needs to be constantly stoked with logs. At the height of the fire, the burning fury crackles throughout the room and spreads warmth with fiery eyes and flames licking the glass like golden tongues.The best student, only called Number One by the others, has the honorary position of feeding the furnace.

It is Rosemarie’s highest ambition to be in charge of this task one day. But with a sigh of shame, she admits that she will not achieve this goal until next year...if ever. The other children, especially the girls, know so much more.

After the lessons, they recite prayers from the bible and then go home. This is a moment that Rosemarie especially looks forward to, because she is able to be just one among others. All the girls accompany her down the pathway to the castle. Most of them have another way to follow, but the girls who sit on her bench, always go with her until they reach the bridge that leads over the moat to the castle. They dare not go further, for they seem quite inhibited by the dark skinned servants standing at the entrance. In the beginning, they all walked together in silence; Rosemarie dared not to speak and the other girls seemed not sure what to say.

Though one day, the postmaster’s daughter, Eugenie, is so friendly to show Rosemarie a passage during the lessons, she simply cannot find in the bible and this gesture breaks the ice. Then, on the way home they all suddenly begin to chatter like a swarm of young birds. Their braids and skirts are whipping up and down as they skip and their tongues suddenly are not silent for a moment. Rosemarie says the least, but she smiles to what the others say and she listens so eagerly, as if she had never heard anything more interesting in her life.

The pharmacist’s daughter, Julie, writes the worst essay ever and still they all laugh together about it. They all know so much gossip from the town; of who is expecting a new baby; namely the young wife of the public notary. An expensive stroller is already waiting in their house entrance; all white with frilly ornaments and gold buttons.

One of the audacious girls wants to know if it is true, that Rosemarie always has hot chocolate with whipped cream and pastries for breakfast and if she is dressed with new clothes from head to toe daily. Rosemarie says, there is no whipped cream in the morning but she also answers, blushing, that clean underwear is surely needed each day.

Rosemarie tries her best to sway with her braids and swing the books back and forth like the other girls, but when she gets up to recite a psalm, the boys are grinning and the girls giggle. It sounds so strange; as if she is rather singing in her exalted voice. She exerts herself in order to speak in a scholastic monotone way, just like the others. As she just about succeeds for the first time, to recite almost the same as Eugenie, the Pastor frowns and says:

„Rosemarie, where are your thoughts? Only recite a psalm if you want to think about what you are saying.”

Rosemarie’s face is flushed as she sits down, hardly able to hold back tears. To upset the Pastor is dreadful for her. She seems so bitterly ashamed that she jumps up as soon as the lessons are over, grabs her coat, forgets her hat and runs away in haste to the protection of the castle. After this, he does not call on her to recite for days and surely cannot imagine, how much impact this has on the child. The Pastor has taken a special place in her heart; a space that up to then only Harro has occupied.

She often wants to talk to Harro about her lessons, but she soon realizes that he is quite bored, when she speaks of those hours of her day. Frau von Hardenstein though, listens attentively when Rosemarie repeatedly accounts each and every lesson almost word by word; mimicking every frown or smile the Pastor bestows upon her. The lessons unfortunately come to an abrupt end on Easter – she witnesses Julie’s and Eugenie’s holy confirmation. Next year, she will be sitting on the primary benches in front, still hoping, although being a Princess, she might then have the honor to stoke the furnace. Everything seems to go back to the formality, as it had been before; Rosemarie is again alone. When she takes walks with Frau von Hardenstein and meets up with some of the girls, they just greet shyly and go on their way. Father arrives back to Brauneck shortly after then, followed by Mama days later. Her arrival is quite an event; she brings along many suitcases, filled with expensive dresses and toiletries and is accompanied by a French maid. With her, more carriages appear with a whole flock of cousins; no one has more cousins than Mama. Harro seems to be quite annoyed with this invasion and hardly comes to visit anymore. All these men seem to have only one purpose in life; to spend their time with trifle amusements. They spend their days sleeping late, going hunting, playing the piano, idling through the landscape with large cameras, eating and drinking. Fortunately, they are never seen near the linden tree; Rosemarie’s very own kingdom and escape. Father also seems to be quite irritated; his forehead is always in wrinkles and his eyes seem tired.