Chapter 37:
A Rosebud
RECKENBELL WAS A LADY WHO WAS KIND AT times and strict at others. No, that’s wrong, I thought. I couldn’t remember a time when Reckenbell was strict with me. Not once did she display any sort of harshness when she was by my side.
When I trained with the sword, spear, and bow until blisters covered my hands, and even when I was hurt by a training sword, I wouldn’t say those injuries came from any sort of harshness. I knew that she did her utmost to find time to train me in between her assigned duties.
Reckenbell, I still can’t understand your love. I frantically unraveled my ball of memories, desperately trying to recall the time when I first met her.
“Princess Catalina, my name is Claudia von Reckenbell.”
“Nothing good will come from being my advisor,” I warned.
Reckenbell was fifteen at the time, and I was five. The sharp gaze of the elderly Minister of War was upon us as we spoke.
“Pardon my insolence, but I’ve heard that you don’t understand emotions, Your Highness,” Reckenbell said.
“I know of logic,” I replied.
“Do you, now?”
For some reason, she gently patted my head. She bent her knees and crouched to meet my line of sight.
“Then I shall continue to teach you of logic,” she said. “Let’s teach you some emotions as well.”
“Can emotions be learned?” I asked.
“I haven’t the faintest clue.” Reckenbell smiled with her unique narrow eyes. “But we’ll do what we can!”
“Well, you can do as you like.”
I nodded languidly at Reckenbell, who inexplicably seemed fired up. Even back then, I was logical; I knew that I wasn’t a particularly lovable child. But Reckenbell was always the same, ever since the day we met. And I learned that the Minister of War had begun working to make me queen after my meeting with Reckenbell. The minister accurately assessed Reckenbell’s talents and tried to use her to educate me.
My recollection continued. Days passed, and my childhood went on. Reckenbell would use her abilities to always produce results in wars against neighboring nations. She’d always win in the knight tournament of our kingdom. The citizens of Villendorf had little choice but to accept her talents, and in the blink of an eye, she became a knight captain.
I was ten and Reckenbell was twenty. She got a husband and gave birth to a child. She was my precious advisor, and a while after she gave birth, I visited her manor. In fact, it was Reckenbell who beckoned me into her home, hoping that I’d visit as soon as I could.
“This is my daughter,” Reckenbell said. “Her name is Nina. Nina von Reckenbell.”
Lady Nina was still a little baby. She didn’t look at all like Reckenbell; she bore a closer resemblance to a monkey.
“Would you please hold her in your arms, Your Highness?” Reckenbell asked.
She lay in bed as she handed her baby to me. I cradled the newborn in my arms; she was just an ordinary baby.
“Do you feel anything?” Reckenbell asked.
“No,” I replied.
She always asked me this question. At every opportunity she found, whenever I did any little thing, she posed the same query without fail. Reckenbell would always ask if I felt anything, but my answer was always the same.
“I don’t feel anything, but…” I trailed off.
“But?” Reckenbell asked.
She leaned forward from her bed and peered into my face, waiting for an answer.
“I’m glad that she didn’t kill her own mother,” I finished.
I was glad that this baby hadn’t turned out like me. My mother died giving birth to me—I’d technically killed her, earning me the hatred of my father while my older sister bullied me. I was so glad that this child wouldn’t follow in my footsteps. I was genuinely so glad that Reckenbell hadn’t died.
“I see,” Reckenbell said. “Is that all?”
She nodded, visibly disappointed by my response. I could logically understand her feelings; Reckenbell had put me through a strict education, after all. I knew that I was supposed to give words of celebration during these occasions.
“Reckenbell, congratulations on your child,” I said.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Reckenbell replied. “Did you hear that, Nina? Your big sister expressed her joy.”
“Big sister?”
I was confused by this descriptor. Nina and I had no blood ties.
“You two are like siblings,” Reckenbell explained. “You’re also my child.”
“I’m not your child,” I replied.
“You practically are. Ever since you were five, I have done my best to raise you. Your father and older sister were utterly useless, after all.” Her tone toward my family members was scathing, a clear sign of her disapproval. “So I’ve decided to make you a part of my family instead. Does this idea displease you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then from today onward, you’re a part of my family. I’m glad that that’s settled.”
Were you listening to me? I said that I don’t know. But Reckenbell ignored my clear hesitation and forcibly made me her family. Every now and then, she’d push her wishes through no matter how much I voiced my concerns. She likely thought that I wasn’t the type to openly defy her; it was a completely one-sided assumption on her part, but she was right. And so, she acted as she pleased.
“Nina von Reckenbell, you must grow up to become strong,” Reckenbell said. “You must turn out like your older sister.”
She cooed to her baby. Am I strong? Unfortunately, whenever I was around Reckenbell, I could never be blessed with the awareness of my own power.
“At your age, if you can beat Reckenbell even once every ten matches, you should be quite proud of that,” the Minister of War had told me. “Of course, in an actual fight, she would’ve simply clobbered you.”
The elderly minister would occasionally appear in front of Reckenbell and me to check up on us. She acted as though the fate of Villendorf rested in our hands. In hindsight, she wasn’t too far off—I became queen, and Reckenbell was a hero. Perhaps the Minister of War already saw this future back then.