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The reign of Kaiserin Annerose von Lohengramm, second ruler of the Lohengramm Dynasty, began with a single question: what epitaph would she inscribe upon her brother’s grave?
Her dear brother, the first of his line. His body had barely gone cold by the time Annerose was given the crown he once wore with unmatched confidence, a move made in desperation to continue the lineage of a Kaiser without an heir.
It was her decision to serve the role as a figurehead; after all, she had little knowledge of politics, save for what she picked up while a prisoner of the monstrous Kaiser Friedrich IV. She left the military to Wolfgang Mittermeyer, Reinhard’s most trusted and highly regarded commander, and left the management of state to her capable Prime Minister, Hildegard von Mariendorf. Oh, Hilda. With her assistance, the horror of this task thrust upon Annerose would be lessened significantly.
But some decisions would still fall to her. And this grim decision was one of them.
As the old saying goes, no parent should have to bury their child. And in many ways, hadn’t she taken care of him as a mother would? This world was truly unjust to have taken him first, let alone to have left her with such an impossible task.
It was this task she was set to when Hilda joined her in her office, taking her old place at the desk she used while no more than a Kaiser’s secretary. Although she had always been much more than that, hadn’t she? Both to Reinhard…and to her.
“Any luck, Mein Kaiserin?” Hilda asked gently, well aware of Annerose’s predicament.
“I’m afraid not. No matter how many attempts I make, they always fail to capture his life’s significance. As his family, it shouldn’t be this difficult. And yet…here I am.”
Hilda rose and walked over to Annerose, offering a sad smile that tried and failed to be reassuring. And then, slowly and quietly, she reached out and put her hand on hers. It was a gesture of support, nothing more. And yet…something about it still felt significant.
“It’s precisely because you’re his family that the task is so difficult. Your knowledge of every facet of him requires far more detail than a simple biographer would be able to offer. I’m certain that whatever you choose will be sufficient.”
Annerose instinctively lifted her hand to slide her fingers between Hilda’s own, the physical contact taking on another layer of intimacy without either of them being aware. It was almost as if they were drifting slightly closer to what they had shared before Annerose was forced to take the throne.
And they had shared something truly special. Even though they ultimately hadn’t acted on them, Annerose was well aware that Hilda’s feelings for her had matched her own. But with the new order and their new roles, such passions had fallen by the wayside. For all Annerose knew, the connection could have faded away in Hilda’s mind by now.
Hilda was her loyal Prime Minister. The true leader of the unified Imperial Empire. With all she did for her, Annerose knew she had no right to saddle her with the burden of her feelings as well.
But she hadn’t let go of her hand. A moment of silence passed between them, but their fingers remained interlinked. Before…all this…she would have known what Hilda was thinking in such a moment. But now…there was nothing. Nothing Annerose could discern, at the very least.
“Kaiserin…” Hilda said softly, the formal title a reminder of the distance between them. “Please remember that I am here for you. Both as your loyal subject and as a friend. Whatever you need from me, I am happy to provide.”
Oh, Hilda. She truly would be happy to offer Annerose anything she desired, but that didn’t make it any easier for Annerose to tell her what she truly needed. Not yet.
“Hilda…thank you. Not just for this, but for everything.”
“It’s the least I can do. Especially after all you’ve given me.”
“Of course. I can’t imagine anyone else handling political affairs as well as you do.”
“I’m not talking about politics,” Hilda chuckled in an attempt at levity. “I’m talking about you and me.”
“...How so?”
The inquisitive note in Annerose’s voice made Hilda very aware of how long their fingers had been intertwined, and she slowly pulled away so as not to offend.
“While Reinhard did his best to diversify the new government, the fact remains that politics is, at least for now, a man’s game. I’m sure that will change someday, but as it stands it can get exhausting constantly being the only woman in the room. Not to mention how some higher-ups are still bitter about taking orders from a woman in the first place.”
Annerose nodded along, trying not to feel the absence of Hilda’s hand in hers.
“Being able to work with you…being able to have a connection with you…makes that more bearable. Not just because you’re a woman, but because you’re you.”
“Thank you, Hilda. I’m glad that I can still be of help to you during this dark time.”
Hilda nodded, uncertain how to reply. Another long gaze passed between them, one that forced Annerose to once again bury those wishful thoughts. It fell to Hilda to move on, nodding again before returning to her desk.
Silence filled the room. Only the occasional sound of shuffling papers and the scratching of pens provided proof that the office belonged to those who were still alive.
***
It was strange, returning to Odin. Scarcely two years had passed since she had left for Phezzan, but the former capital now felt like it was no longer her home. Perhaps it was the sight of Neue Sanssouci that made her feel such unease; after all, it was more than the former seat of royalty. It was her prison. No matter how many years passed her by, it would never be anything else.
But return she had. Not for her own sake, but for Reinhard’s. Even if he had made Phezzan his home…Kircheis was on Odin. And she knew that, even in death, Reinhard would want to be with him.
Hilda was with her, of course. She hadn’t left Annerose’s side since they arrived. They even slept in the same room (in separate beds, naturally) during their time there. Perhaps she was as afraid of being left alone as Annerose was.
Annerose knew that Hilda had loved Reinhard in her own way. Not in any sort of romantic sense; Hilda had made it clear that her preferences did not and would not ever include men. But their friendship was a special bond. At times, she even envied it. After all, there had been no wall between the two. No secret emotions they could not allow themselves to feel. Not like her. Not like the feelings that wrestled with sorrow inside her heart.
No, now wasn’t the time for such things. It wasn’t her place to put her own heart first. This trip belonged to Reinhard.
Despite that maelstrom within her, Annerose had finally decided on an epitaph for her little brother. The final words of his legacy, and her final message to him. She had her doubts about that choice even now, but there was no going back. Closure cannot be opened once again.
***
The funeral was small. The headstone was simple. Everyone in attendance knew he would have wanted it that way. Tears were shed, of course: not only by her, but by Hilda, Bittenfeld, Mittermeyer, and a few other attendees whose names she had forgotten. Names had never been her strong suit.
Watching Reinhard’s body disappear into the ground filled her with a profound sense of emptiness. It was only the warmth of Hilda’s hand on hers, Hilda’s shoulder against her own, and the comfort that those provided that kept her aware of the moment. The two of them bid their silent farewell together as Reinhard joined his beloved Kircheis beneath the soil of their birthplace. And when the crowd at large had dispersed, the two of them remained. Just them and the gravestones.
Siegfried Kircheis.
Mein Freund.
Reinhard von Lohengramm.
He Held the Stars in His Hands.
Indeed, Reinhard had held them. And now he had passed them on to Annerose. But that had never been his intention, had it? No, those stars had not truly been meant for her. They had been meant for the young man who slept beside him. Perhaps he would have held them well.
Not like her. She had no desire for the stars. That was why she had passed them on. To Mittermeyer, and…to Hilda. Intended or not, no one in the galaxy could hold the stars as capably as her. Nor could anyone hope to match her grace.
Hilda, with her hidden compassion. When the reception had ended and the attendees had dispersed, leaving only the two women dressed in mourner’s black, it was that silent compassion that led Hilda to wordlessly embrace Annerose from behind. An embrace that allowed Annerose’s tears to flow freely and for her sobs to echo through the spacious hall.
Annerose reached up to lay her hands on Hilda’s, endlessly grateful for her touch. Whatever intent it carried, the embrace was more than enough. She had no right to ask for more.
Was it wrong of her, then, to turn in Hilda’s arms and face the other woman? Was it wrong to stare at her with guilt, sorrow, and need? Was it wrong for her to bring her lips to hers in quiet desperation? Was it wrong of Hilda to bring her hands to Annerose’s face, reciprocating the kiss with equal need?
Reinhard lay buried outside, grave still in view through the great glass windows of the reception hall. What right did they have to seek love while in the shadow of his death? It was wrong, truly. There was no avoiding it.
But Reinhard…her dear, caring brother…would he want those he loved to face their sorrow alone? Would he want them to live without love, as he had been forced to? No. Even in the heart-rending pain he had endured after the loss of his beloved, he had never been bitter or cruel to those that found love in their own lives.
Perhaps allowing themselves to find that love within each other’s arms was the truest way to honor him, after all. To hold the stars, and to hold each other.
Wherever he was…she prayed that he would offer his blessing as he looked down at them. That would be enough.
***
They shared a bed that night. Not in the way that would come later, when skin would meet skin in a perfect affirmation of their existence, but simply for the sake of holding one another. Neither was prepared to speak the words their actions had communicated, but now wouldn’t be the right time anyway. That would come after they had left Odin. After Annerose no longer felt the presence of her brother beneath the ground and the horrible shadow of Neue Sanssouci above it. Hilda, kind Hilda, wonderful Hilda, her Hilda…she would never force Annerose to speak words of such importance here and now.
All that remained was a final farewell to her brother, also made in silence, before they returned home. To their home.
***
Hilda taking up residency in the palace wasn’t considered abnormal; in fact, it was common practice for a Kaiser’s right hand. And indeed, Hilda continued to perform her duties. By day, very little had changed. The only signs of a deeper connection came in the form of gazes that were slightly longer than they were before, more frequent lingering touches, and sometimes, just sometimes, and only when the doors were locked, a needy kiss or two. Or three. Sometimes more. But it was normal otherwise, surely.
Annerose, however, had changed. Having chased away the uncertainty in her heart and feeling assured of her brother’s blessing, she had begun to fulfill her role of Kaiserin with much more commitment. Hilda still managed most of the political side, and she had never touched the military beyond bestowing medals here and there, but some political decisions were left to her. For the most part, she focused on those that were associated with the remaining scraps of the Goldenbaum dynasty.
It was one of those decisions that faced her now, placed on her desk by her dear Hilda.
“I apologize for troubling you with such a simple matter, Annerose,” Hilda offered apologetically. She no longer struggled to use her name instead of her title. “But I believe you would be better suited to decide what should be done with the manors of the old royalty.”
“Thank you, dear. I’ll take a look.”
Hilda smiled at the term of endearment, looking back to ensure the doors were closed before leaning down to give Annerose a quick kiss. It was a very effective motivator.
Once Hilda returned to her desk and set to work on matters of national budget, Annerose began sorting through the files. Most she marked for transformation into free, publicly accessible facilities of the arts; art museums were an easy choice given the amount of fine art the nobles had hoarded, but some were better suited to serve as libraries, theaters, and even public clinics when a layout could function as one.
It didn’t take long for all the files to be marked and sorted. Annerose had to admit that there was some satisfaction in having such authority. With Hilda to support her, love her, and ensure that her heart was unchained, she had the freedom to feel a fragment of what her brother had felt while taking charge of his conquest with Kircheis at his side. Such thoughts were as reassuring as they were troubling.
No, she had none of her brother’s ambition. Not when it could bring danger to the woman she loved. Perhaps that guidance was another gift Reinhard had given her.
“Hilda? I’ve finished. Would you please look them over for me?”
“Of course, love.”
Hilda flipped through files, nodding with approval. “A clinic? Excellent idea.”
Annerose smiled at her, a genuine smile untouched by uncertainty. As it should be.
“Ah, Annerose? There’s one you left unmarked.”
Hilda handed her the remaining file.
Neue Sanssouci.
Annerose’s smile disappeared as she spent a few moments in thought, wrestling with horrid memory atop horrid memory. When the decision came to her, it came with certainty.
“Hilda?”
“Yes?”
Annerose’s lips turned upward into a slight smile. It was the kind of smile that Hilda was familiar with…but one she hadn’t seen in quite some time.
“Tear it down.”