“Really. On the condition that you tell no one.”
“Right. Okay.” Rita nodded feverishly. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
Her features were lit under a thin column of light. She seemed to be having trouble believing her luck.
Then, the pictures from Mathias’ memory began again to transition.
They were no longer children. Neither were they full-grown adults.
Mathias sat at the dining table with Rita’s family. It was their living quarters on the second floor above Henning’s apothecary. Wooden floorboards and white, stuccoed walls. There was no comparing them to the Kramer’s dining chambers, and the whole space was probably smaller than the mansion’s kitchen. Nonetheless, Mathias had kept up regular visits even after he was in his teens. He saw no harm in routinely exposing himself to the lifestyle and ideas of the laboring classes. It would help him think up─or search out─goods that pleased them. As Jörg had told him: Always consider the popular opinion.
Such motivations aside, Mathias quite enjoyed spending time with Rita’s family. On the table were candles and a paraffin lamp whose warm light perfectly complemented the room’s atmosphere.
“We’re so sorry to call on you like this,” Rita’s mother, Doris, said as she dished out their food.
She was an energetic and spirited woman. This contrasted with her husband’s more gentle disposition, but Mathias had never once seen them argue.
Mathias had lost his mother to sickness just two years earlier. As a result he was envious of the relationship shared by Rita, Henning, and Doris, but he never felt true envy. Even with his mother alive and well, he would not be enjoying the sort of ties Rita did with her family. Mathias’ relationship to his parents was more formal, and he didn’t view this as necessarily bad. It was simply the way of privileged families.
“Not at all─I was glad for the invitation. It’s a perfect break. The truth is my father had expressed a wish to come too. Unfortunately he finds it a little more difficult to slip away.”
“Out of the question! We couldn’t possibly host anyone as august as the chairman of the Kramer Merchant Association,” the mother shooed, and the daughter chimed in, “Yeah, I mean, he makes regular trips to the capital, doesn’t he?”
Mathias shook his head. “He’s nothing special. He does like to keep busy, of course.”
Since the loss of his wife, Mathias’ father Jörg had thrown himself into his work with even greater ferocity.
Henning decanted wine into everyone’s glasses. Today they were celebrating a special occasion.
“As I’m sure will you, Mathias,” he said. “One day soon you’ll find yourself no less busy.”
“Exactly─this could well be the last time you visit us here.”
“Yeah, I bet.” A look resembling that of an abandoned puppy flashed over Rita’s face.
What they were saying was probably true. The merchant association was busy, and the volume of work was only expected to increase.
Mathias forced himself to sound relaxed when he responded, “There’s no need to exaggerate. I’ll be barging in every now and then if only you’ll let me.”
“Well, you’re always welcome, Mathias.”
It was clear that Doris was being genuine. She welcomed him not as the scion of a merchant association, but independently of his status, and never sought anything in return. Rita and Henning were the same.
It was comforting, and Mathias felt grateful. By then he was already beginning to receive preferential treatment from those around him. The stream of people who approached with ulterior motives was never-ending.
“All that aside, the amazing one here is Rita,” Mathias changed the subject to the young woman next to him. She was dressed in the uniform of the Garrison Regiment. It was brand-new and crisply starched, without a single crease or blemish.
“Hmm? Me?” Rita blinked in apparent surprise.
Mathias nodded. “Joining the Training Corps, getting all the way to the end.”
Many citizens entered the Training Corps by the time of their fifteenth birthday. This didn’t mean they all became soldiers. A certain percentage was guaranteed to flunk out.
Rita, however, had lasted her two-year training period to become an official member of the Garrison Regiment. While she may not have ascended to the Military Police Brigade─entry to which was restricted to an elite group of the highest achievers─Mathias had heard that she had excelled among her classmates.
“I know, such a surprise! Who’d have known she had that kind of backbone? Though you’d be shocked how strong her arms─”
“Mom, that’s terrible!”
“You’d never have imagined it, going by how she used to be.” Henning regarded his daughter with a dazzled grin. “She never even went out and preferred to be cooped up indoors.”
“And look at her now, a soldier.”
“Yes, well…” Rita drooped her head, peering up at Mathias. “That’s thanks to Mathias.”
“Indeed. You’re spot on there,” Doris agreed with a deep nod. “Didn’t get on with the neighborhood kids at all. If Mathias here hadn’t kindly offered a hand, well, who’s to know how you’d have ended up!”
“You have our thanks,” Henning said, lifting his glass and tipping his head towards Mathias. Following his signal, the others reached for their own drinks.
“Please, there’s no need. I was just the same as Rita. I didn’t even go to school.” During his childhood, Mathias had been taught exclusively by his personal tutor, one of the mansion’s servants. “I didn’t have any friends my own age. Rita was irreplaceable in helping me learn about the outside world.”
“That’s silly. Definitely not true.” Rita cast her eyes downward, her face flushed as though drunk.
But Mathias’ gratitude to her was genuine.
“Now, shall we make a toast?” Doris suggested.
“To celebrate the end of Rita’s training and her joining the Garrison.”
Following Henning’s prompt, they all cried, “Cheers!”
“Make sure you eat your fill,” Doris urged. “Today’s a treat. I mean, it probably won’t compare to what our betters are… Ah, mmm, that’s by the by. Sorry if I’m being annoying.”
“Not at all.” Mathias smiled and began to help himself to the oil-pickled fish, stewed meats, steamed vegetables, and variety of cheeses on display across the dining table. “This is really great.”
“A-ha, flattery!”
“I mean it.”
“Thank you. I’m glad, even if you’re just being polite.” Doris showed a big smile. Adding food to all of their plates, she said, “You know you really have grown into such a decent young man. Never once rebelling.”
“It’s true,” Henning agreed, “you find so many prodigal sons out there.”
“They’re just a minority.”
“Maybe, but I believe you’re studying hard in preparation to inherit your father’s position?”
“Well, yes. But I enjoy it.”