has always had a way of knowing when my tone was serious and required his actual focus and attention.
Which was not the effect I am going for here when I was hoping to pass this by him before he ever had the chance to focus on it. “I’ve been offered an opportunity to do some work.” He raises an eyebrow, and I continue. “Captain Richwalder from the delegation, you know him?”
“The young military officer. We met earlier.”
“He needs someone to help him with translations. Please, Papa, I’m just so terribly bored.” I don’t tell him that the work will need to happen in the evening or in the library of the hotel. “I just want to help.”
He rubs his chin. “I see no harm in it. It will be good for your linguistic skills.” He turns back to his papers.
Dismissed, I walk to my room. Across the road, the massive expanse of the palace grounds, trees and fountains are shrouded in darkness. I press my head against the window, craning my neck to glimpse the hotel. The light in the library still burns yellow on the first floor and I imagine Captain Richwalder hunched over his papers. I wonder what the work will be like. Will my language skills be sufficient? Remembering his imposing gaze, I shiver. Then, I turn off the light and climb into bed, anticipating with excitement and more than a little dread the day that is to come.
Chapter 5
It is just shy of eight o’clock and the lamps glow behind the curtains at the hotel as I approach. I knock and a few seconds later the door opens. Captain Richwalder wears no jacket this evening, but his dress shirt is pressed crisply, the short hair above his ears still damp from washing. “Thank you for being prompt,” he says, sounding as though used to people being otherwise. I had, in fact, loitered a good twenty minutes at our apartment, not wanting to arrive too early, checking my reflection with more care than I otherwise would have to make sure I look capable. My clothes are simple, a starched cream blouse with a scalloped collar and a navy skirt a shade longer than is fashionable these days.
Taking in his stiff, formal demeanor, I am suddenly uneasy. What if he is difficult to work for, even unkind? Though I volunteered to do this and am not receiving pay, Papa will expect me to honor the commitment I’ve made and see the job through.
Captain Richwalder leads me through the lobby of the hotel, which is nicer than I might have expected from the drab exterior. The maroon curtains are just a bit faded and the chandelier overhead is every bit as elaborate as the one in our Paris hotel. He opens the door to the study. “Please make yourself at home. I’ll just be a moment.” As he closes the door behind him, I remove my coat. The library is modest in size, no bigger than our parlor down the street, but pleasant, with soft, overstuffed chairs and book-filled shelves that climb to the ceiling. The air carries the same damp, musty smell that permeates most of the town.
Captain Richwalder returns a moment later with two cups of tea and sets them down on the low table. “It’s a bit warmer now. The weather, I mean.” His attempt to make small talk is awkward, simple conversation strange on his tongue.
“Indeed.” I smooth my hair, which is pulled back in a loose, low knot. Then I decide to be direct. “So what is it that you need me to do?”
His face relaxes at being given permission to turn to work and he motions for me to follow him over to the desk in the corner, where he holds the chair out for me to sit. “There are a number of military matters related to the peace treaty that are to be proposed, and I’ve been asked to work on those, not surprisingly, that involve the navy. The Imperial Navy is one of the finest in the world,” he adds, unable to keep a note of pride from his voice. Or was, I cannot help but think. “And I believe there’s a real role for the navy as a peacekeeper in the new world order.”
His suggestion is the first I’ve heard
Which was not the effect I am going for here when I was hoping to pass this by him before he ever had the chance to focus on it. “I’ve been offered an opportunity to do some work.” He raises an eyebrow, and I continue. “Captain Richwalder from the delegation, you know him?”
“The young military officer. We met earlier.”
“He needs someone to help him with translations. Please, Papa, I’m just so terribly bored.” I don’t tell him that the work will need to happen in the evening or in the library of the hotel. “I just want to help.”
He rubs his chin. “I see no harm in it. It will be good for your linguistic skills.” He turns back to his papers.
Dismissed, I walk to my room. Across the road, the massive expanse of the palace grounds, trees and fountains are shrouded in darkness. I press my head against the window, craning my neck to glimpse the hotel. The light in the library still burns yellow on the first floor and I imagine Captain Richwalder hunched over his papers. I wonder what the work will be like. Will my language skills be sufficient? Remembering his imposing gaze, I shiver. Then, I turn off the light and climb into bed, anticipating with excitement and more than a little dread the day that is to come.
Chapter 5
It is just shy of eight o’clock and the lamps glow behind the curtains at the hotel as I approach. I knock and a few seconds later the door opens. Captain Richwalder wears no jacket this evening, but his dress shirt is pressed crisply, the short hair above his ears still damp from washing. “Thank you for being prompt,” he says, sounding as though used to people being otherwise. I had, in fact, loitered a good twenty minutes at our apartment, not wanting to arrive too early, checking my reflection with more care than I otherwise would have to make sure I look capable. My clothes are simple, a starched cream blouse with a scalloped collar and a navy skirt a shade longer than is fashionable these days.
Taking in his stiff, formal demeanor, I am suddenly uneasy. What if he is difficult to work for, even unkind? Though I volunteered to do this and am not receiving pay, Papa will expect me to honor the commitment I’ve made and see the job through.
Captain Richwalder leads me through the lobby of the hotel, which is nicer than I might have expected from the drab exterior. The maroon curtains are just a bit faded and the chandelier overhead is every bit as elaborate as the one in our Paris hotel. He opens the door to the study. “Please make yourself at home. I’ll just be a moment.” As he closes the door behind him, I remove my coat. The library is modest in size, no bigger than our parlor down the street, but pleasant, with soft, overstuffed chairs and book-filled shelves that climb to the ceiling. The air carries the same damp, musty smell that permeates most of the town.
Captain Richwalder returns a moment later with two cups of tea and sets them down on the low table. “It’s a bit warmer now. The weather, I mean.” His attempt to make small talk is awkward, simple conversation strange on his tongue.
“Indeed.” I smooth my hair, which is pulled back in a loose, low knot. Then I decide to be direct. “So what is it that you need me to do?”
His face relaxes at being given permission to turn to work and he motions for me to follow him over to the desk in the corner, where he holds the chair out for me to sit. “There are a number of military matters related to the peace treaty that are to be proposed, and I’ve been asked to work on those, not surprisingly, that involve the navy. The Imperial Navy is one of the finest in the world,” he adds, unable to keep a note of pride from his voice. Or was, I cannot help but think. “And I believe there’s a real role for the navy as a peacekeeper in the new world order.”
His suggestion is the first I’ve heard
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