Work Text:
Burning brightly on the asphalt was the sun as the woman moved leisurely at Geppetto's side through the gates of the elaborately restored city hall. Angélique had not been there since the renovations, and the changes she now faced put her in a state of unexpected awe.
Krat's city hall shone with a whole new splendor. The formerly dilapidated façade was gone and had given way to a contemporary, extremely eye-catching design. Numerous windows seemed larger and the doors wider. Instead of musty wood, they were now made of solid metal, resembling the architecture found on the Alchemist's Bridge. Even the walkways were more open and the floor was newly paved.
Angélique found it extremely pleasant to walk on this flat path, free of hidden tripping hazards. Despite the considerable distance, she hardly felt any strain in her hip. The real challenges came more from her own naiveté, when she had believed that in order to meet the demands of etiquette and appear elegant at her husband's side, she had to wear high heels. Considering her physical disability, she did herself no favors by doing so. Her husband supported her unilaterally, for otherwise the strain would simply have been too overwhelming, and her strength would have long since left her.
Leaning against Geppetto, she looked at the courtyard with astonished eyes. Colorful flowerbeds, majestic trees, and inviting park benches gave this place a more lively and friendly atmosphere. She almost felt like she was in a completely different city here.
All of a sudden, life pulsed here, as the city hall had become a gathering place for everyone. People from all social classes and unions came together here. Lively conversations and cheerful chants resounded far and wide.
But not for everyone in this city the changes were easy. Especially the members of the venerable families of Krat often resisted. Alchemists were criticized, as was Ergo, the driving force that granted special privileges. An air of evil talk hung like a dense blanket of clouds over the sky, although life for many inhabitants had become a paradise in a very short time since the discovery of Ergo.
Conflicts of interest had increased, and rapid resolution was urgently needed. For this reason, the city council was given the greatest decision-making power, as it united representatives from all ranks. But this time, another voice was needed to represent the people themselves.
Angélique was chosen after Lady Antonia drew attention to her and her personal opinion during a festive event at the Hotel Krat. She was also the wife of the respected inventor Geppetto, who enjoyed a good reputation among the people.
Angélique had originally intended to decline this offer, as she did not want to have anything to do with political or social decisions. Even though her husband held a high position in the city council, she wanted to stay as far away as possible from its affairs.
But when she met the many delighted faces and the people who looked up to her, she could not bring herself to refuse the offer. As a candidate, she was elected by a clear majority. She accepted with gratitude, but was convinced that she would fail.
Despite Geppetto's reassuring words and his gentle stroking of her arm, this feeling did not subside. Her fascination with the renovated building changed to an even stronger uneasiness when the reason for the current conflict ... appeared before her eyes. Whereby this was a rather erroneous description, because the puppet jumped down with a somersault from the roof, into the middle of the inner courtyard.
It was the most recent building from Venigni's factory. Angélique was well acquainted with the model, but had so far only seen it in theory. Her husband and his business partner Venigni had spent weeks, day and night, just sketching the blueprints until the project finally entered the production phase.
The result was simply breathtaking. A gigantic puppet from the Watchman series that could not only dance, jump and sing, but was also designed to serve as a figurehead for the city of Krat, and in particular to represent its military strength. However, it did not fulfill its function as some expected.
Instead of being a sign of power, the puppet lively entertained children. Angélique did not inquire from Geppetto whether this was intentional. In fact, it didn't matter. Because the common people, who had too little to decide for themselves anyway and whom she was supposed to represent, reacted positively to this result.
Therefore, the actual problem was not the puppet, but the mixing of the social classes. It was just right for her to see two children dancing happily around the puppet. Outwardly, the two could hardly have been more different, but they didn't care. Their hearts were not concerned with their appearance, their choice of clothes, whether one of them wore a tailored coat or the other had stains on it.
This sight awakened new courage in Angélique. Her mood brightened, for she realized what she was here to stand for. She herself did not come from a noble house, had not even grown up in the city. When she had come to Krat and met Geppetto, any kind of etiquette had been foreign to her.
On their first dinner date, she had been overwhelmed not only by the restaurant Geppetto had taken her to, but also by the fine cutlery that lay before her. By the time an elaborately decorated dessert was served for her alone and before the main dish, she was overcome with nervousness. She gave in to the urge to jump up, but Geppetto did not allow her to run away. He grabbed her hand, shaking the table, and when the red wine poured over her dress, she tearfully confessed that she would much rather drink tea or even a glass of water. Laughing, Geppetto had convinced her to stay with him, to enjoy the dinner. Intentionally, he had also poured the wine over his own clothes. Whispering, he remarked that he was not a good wine drinker either. Her hearty giggle was enough to awaken in Geppetto the desire to take her home and eventually marry her.
Without him, she would have had nothing to stand on in this higher class of society. It was still not her world, and she often felt out of place when she attended festivities. Therefore, she detested nothing more than such limited thinking that did not ascribe equal value to everyone.
"Darling," she heard her husband's soft voice beside her, "we have to go this way."
Drawn from her far too long thoughts and turning away from the scene, she took in Geppetto, who smilingly held out an open hand to her. Between them, not everything was as flawless as it seemed at that moment. He was rarely at home, constantly taken up by his work. And she had put herself in the company of a man he despised. Nevertheless, Geppetto met her with that loving look that revealed that she meant the world to him. Replying, she too showed that he filled her heart.
Placing her hand in his, she let him guide her along the path.
◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈
"What do you think the outcome will be?" she addressed the question to Geppetto as he helped her climb the stairs to the first floor.
"It's hard to say. The problem is not the puppet," he replied.
Angélique stopped and peered up at him.
"I noticed that a moment ago."
He could read the question she had been afraid to ask earlier on her face. Knowing she wouldn't bring it up to him, he answered it in a whisper.
"I knew that sooner or later there would be problems like this, so I decided to change the protocol." After all, it's better to bring it about early and have it arbitrated than to cause chaos later.
"The puppet acts according to our liking," he continued, "but contrary to that of some cynics."
For a while, Angélique pondered as she watched her steps. It pleased her to hear that her husband was responsible for this great step, even if it involved lengthy council meetings. Eventually, she shared some of her thoughts with him.
"We should not be distinguished from each other by anything. Yet here we are doing it. I guess we can't break old habits after all."
There was a tone in her voice that gave weight to her contempt.
"But we must get rid of them if we want to maintain progress, our privileges. Couldn't what just happened actually help to create a kind of bridge connecting the different social classes?"
Geppetto paused in surprise. Obviously, he hadn't expected her to think about this so intensely. For both of them, there were enough other hurdles to overcome at the moment. Sometimes he could hardly imagine how exhausting it must be for his wife to have to deal with yet another thing. Especially since she hadn't chosen roles like this by choice most of the time. That was just one of the reasons why he never intercepted the letters he had finally begun to read. Never mentioned them in the quiet hope that all this would work itself out. Giving up was not something he wanted to do, fighting for that smile was something he was willing to do.
"That's a great approach," he agreed with her. " Bring that up when your voice is called later. Maybe it can change a few minds."
Her bright smile that followed touched him deeply. He didn't want to lose that again and would do anything to preserve it. It was not without reason that he had deliberately tried to put his work aside in the last few days, had even stayed at home that morning. He had surprised her with that, yet also made her happy, just as her smile had made his heart beat faster.
To break away from his own habits was not easy, but he would be able to get used to it, he knew, to live only on the love of his wife. A love he hoped still belonged to him.
◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈
"It's good that you're here!"
No sooner had Angélique reached the end of the hallway with Geppetto when a familiar face hurried toward them. Lorenzini Venigni seemed relieved to see the puppet-maker, but at the same time seemed very upset. He gesticulated wildly and frantically, while his words made little sense at first.
Geppetto broke away from his wife and approached him in quick steps.
"Calm down first and tell me what's going on."
He urged Venigni to take a deep breath. In that time, Angélique was able to catch up with them. Together they walked until they reached the front of the conference room. There, Angélique expressed her desire to go inside and sit down. Geppetto approvingly handed her her crutch, which she needed especially when she walked alone.
"You won't believe it. This man is insane!"
Venigni's voice faded from her awareness. It had always been troublesome to witness a conversation between the two, and that was not likely to change, she thought, leaving them alone.
◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈
The conference room was impressively large and spacious. In its center stood a wooden table surrounded by numerous chairs. A few were taken, but most were lined up waiting to be taken by the participants. A massive lectern towered at the front of the room, drawing full attention.
As Angélique entered the room, she braced herself for a handful of people. However, the sight of a massive crowd of unfamiliar faces left her speechless. It was becoming increasingly obvious that this concern was of greater interest than she thought.
It was not only her husband who had told her about the meetings, and she was aware that many of Krat's most highly respected figures had a voice here. But this number of people was too much for her. Far too much. Now it explained itself to her, why a single topic could be treated often for weeks without a result in sight.
In front of these many people she had to stand her word at least once. Again she doubted that she would be able to do this, and a supporting hand that gave her courage was not at her side, at least not right now.
Hardly anyone took notice of her figure, yet she felt nervousness rising inside. Her heart beat faster than usual and her breathing became shallower. Although Geppetto had told her to simply choose a seat, she did not want to get involved in any unpleasant situation. Therefore, Angélique inquired of a nearby group - after saying a common greeting, of course - where she could find a free seat. Regardless of her handicap, she was pointed in a direction, far back in the room. Into this she rushed with heavy steps.
The clacking of her own heels echoed unnaturally loudly in her ears. However, only she seemed to be struck by such loudness. Although Angélique was a far unfamiliar face in these ranks, no attention was paid to her.
This did not change how she felt. Overwhelmed and frightened. Trembling, she clutched the handle of her cane. The conversations around her seemed to grow louder, but Angélique could not understand a single word. Her eyes wandered around the room searching for a way out, catching sight of Lady Antonia. But the owner of Hotel Krat, giving her attention to others in heated conversation, seemed not to have noticed her arrival yet.
Unseen by Angélique herself, a very different person had noticed her arrival. Simon Manus, leaning away from the crowd with his back against one of the window ledges, had already eyed her through the window and had fallen into a hidden rapture as she had crossed the courtyard. Attentively he now watched her every movement as she paced the room. With ease he could read all her sensations on her face; felt all her worries and fears. An unaccustomed gentle smile crept across his lips as he briskly pushed himself off and walked toward her.
Arriving at the seat recommended to her, Angélique leaned her cane against the chair on which she wanted to sit. After she had moved it even a few centimeters, the cane fell over and hit the floor with a dull sound.
She flinched in shock, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. This time, isolated glances rushed in her direction. Though not nearly as many as her inner feelings tried to make her believe. She was not ready for this conference. And again she realized why she actually stayed away from such matters.
Although she tried to remain calm and not let anything show, she felt the uncomfortable heat spreading further and further inside her. She only wished that this unpleasant situation was over quickly and that she could feel safe again.
Taking a deep breath, she was about to make another attempt to finally sit down when out of the corner of her eye she saw a figure approaching her. At first she wanted to believe Geppetto was on his way to join her, but the man was far taller, though not as broad in stature as her husband. Still, a silhouette that was very familiar to her.
"Let me help you," he spoke softly. His voice, and especially that caring tone, was not unfamiliar to her. In fact, very familiar, even if a while had already passed since they had last really seen each other. And although she knew that Simon Manus held a high position in the city council, she was quite surprised by his presence.
Simon went down on his knees in front of her, picking up her cane, not showing any understanding of distance. He moved the chair and asked her to sit down. Then he leaned the cane against the table so that it remained within her reach, but the armrests themselves were freely available. He explained to her that this would still be necessary and hoped, in the same breath expressing aloud, that this discussion would not last forever.
Smiling gratefully, she sought his closeness, his support, offering him to sit next to her. However, he remained standing for the time being, even if he reserved the chair for himself, moving it forward facing her. At that moment, it seemed as if there had never been silence between them.
" Do you want some tea?" Simon asked obligingly.
"Please don't trouble yourself for me." Gently, her fingers danced along his arm and for a fleeting moment she held onto him. Carefully, he placed his hand on hers, offering her all his affection.
"Believe me, if it were any trouble, I would not have asked."
" Well, in that case, my answer is yes, please, I'd like some tea."
No sooner had she answered and appeared to have calmed down than Simon gently placed her hand on the armrest and proceeded to a nearby table where drinks had been prepared.
Lovingly, Angélique followed his movements. He was too good to her, and she couldn't understand why she deserved to be treated with such affection by him. Especially since he knew that despite each of their shared nights, her heart still beat for her husband, and would continue to do so.
Simon glanced over his shoulder briefly, calling out over the crowd at a comfortable volume so that she could hear him clearly, " The way you're used to? Do you want a spoonful of honey in your tea?"
His voice was heard not only by her, and instantly it became quieter, many conversations fell silent. Suddenly everyone present was curious, if not astonished, because no one was used to this man talking normally to anyone else at all. Simon had not meant to draw attention at all. However, she immediately realized that he was used to such behavior.
Nodding again, Angélique let him know she wanted her tea exactly that way. Before, when no one had paid any attention to her, she had been nervous. But now, with all those curious pairs of eyes wandering back and forth between them, she was able to remain calm. She owed that to him, the man who could make her feel safe just by his presence. And, she couldn't deny, the power he held because of his position, his prestige, probably played a small part in making her feel invulnerable.
With two filled cups in his hands, Simon returned to her. Meanwhile, he was being watched intently, and the woman with whom he spoke familiarly - even maintained an affectionate rapport - only now seemed to come to the fore. Quiet whispers began to rise, but none of that should matter.
Simon handed her one of the hot beverages, kept the other for himself, and leaned back in the chair beside her.
"Please forgive me for being forced to give you such horrible tableware," he said, raising the saucer in the air as if it were not made of porcelain, but was made of low-quality material.
He was well aware that Angélique was a proven expert in making porcelain and had clear preferences. The tableware in her hands came from the Meissen manufactory, the biggest competitor of the manufacturer whose products she preferred.
Simon had purposefully given his remark an aggressive emphasis, peering at the opposite side of the table. There sat the owner of Hotel Krat, who was a close friend of her family. Lady Antonia held a deep antipathy for Simon and, according to the stories, she also sometimes argued with Angélique over the china in the hotel.
At the right moment, Antonia tried to avert her gaze again, irritated by seeing Simon Manus and Geppetto's wife sitting together next to each other. However, her stare had already been noticed.
Angélique couldn't help but giggle slightly, joining in his entertaining game before taking a sip of her tea and replying that he was the only one she could forgive such a crime.
Following a brief gentle silence, however, Simon turned to her in a connected manner.
"I hope the new tea set meets your expectations?"
A gentle nod escaped her, followed by a sparkle in her eyes. She could not hide her joy at the thought of the unexpected gift of a tea set.
"It's the most beautiful one I've ever seen," she confessed, noticing that the curious stares around her were subsiding. However, many a puzzled murmur remained.
"That makes me happy."
Pondering, Simon looked down at his tea. The same thoughts began to buzz through his mind as hers. Therefore, he also tried to find a way to address this unpleasant issue.
With calm words, she was the one who finally spoke to him.
"I suppose that you have been very busy and therefore you did not answer to any of my letters."
With this statement, his suspicions were confirmed. Sighing, he set his cup aside and leaned toward her, lowering his voice slightly.
"I think there is a misunderstanding. I did not receive any letters. Therefore, I wrote not just one letter every week, but two, and every day."
And like he already thought, none of them had reached her.
Angélique had already suspected this fact. Yet she could not grasp the thought of two letters a day. This showed her how serious things had become between them and how much importance Simon attached to her.
"I already thought so..." she whispered softly to herself. It was a statement addressed more to herself than to him, but he noticed it.
Understanding, she turned away and stared at the hot drink in her hands. Uncontrollably, these began to tremble. The recognition that her suspicions were, to all appearances, correct, made her nervous after all. For she was not prepared to bear the consequences of her actions.
"What do you mean?"
She found it hard to find words, falling into a nervous stutter.
"I didn't expect to meet you here and planned to send a letter myself on the way home. Now I might as well hand it to you in person."
Setting the tea aside, Angélique took the named letter out of her pocket and handed it to Simon. He turned the envelope over in his hands.
Angélique could not deny that she had often imagined how he would react to receiving her letters. In her imagination, he was beaming with joy, reading them in the dark and letting his own thoughts wander, guided by her words.
As Simon traced the uneven lettering on the envelope with his fingers, he noticed that some strokes had scratches. Possibly, he thought, she had pressed the quill she had used to write them too hard into the paper. Smiling, he even sighed in delight, because seeing his name written by her hand made him happy.
Instead of reading the letter, however, Simon reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and surprisingly pulled out a letter himself. He placed it in her lap, leaning toward her so that he rested his elbow on the arm of her chair and she could clearly hear his whisper.
"I, on the other hand, was told that you would be here today." His warm breath, accompanied by the sweet and herbal scent of chamomile, brushed her nose. " That's why I wrote this. I planned to slip it into your coat pocket as you walked by, maybe even accidentally knock you over, then lean over you, circling my hips on yours, while Geppetto watches me, getting furious."
Her nervousness seemed to pause momentarily, giving way to a deep excitement that blossomed within her. His words made her shiver, eliciting a soft barely audible sigh. That one he felt pass his cheek. Visibly, she was taken aback and had not expected all this at all. Despite the seriousness of the situation and the probably unpleasant words that were inside, she laughed heartily.
Simon then took a more upright posture again.
"However, if I had known that I would have enough time with you - and actually I could have guessed that - I would have told you myself."
Of course, they were both thinking about the same thing. They didn't even need to open the letters to know the content of the words or to realize that they were almost identical.
Geppetto knew about their relationship. Kept silent about it. The reason was not known to either of them.
Nevertheless, Angélique turned the envelope in her hands. She couldn't resist touching the paper gently either. How Simon managed to make each of his letters smell of lavender, she could not understand. It was almost unknown to her whether it was due to the ink, the paper itself smelled of it, or some other magic was responsible.
Looking up at him, she noticed that his smile had given way to a look that told her that he, too, had let his imagination run wild. Heat spread through her chest, like a fire rising to her cheeks, at the realization of how he might have imagined her reading his letters. Secretly, behind closed doors and with her face glowing red as she followed his written instructions, letting her hands caress her own body. And she hoped that the thoughts of it had driven him insane.
But neither of them had received a single letter. Her days had been filled with worry and confusion. The idea Geppetto had not only intercepted all this, but read them, was frightening, although it had been their intention from the beginning to capture his attention.
Increasingly, Angélique heard whispers again. Little was spoken of her directly. More of Simon and his behavior. Briefly, she thought she caught a glimpse of conversation about the kindness he was showing her. Loudly, however, she heard the assertion that he wore the face of the devil, for no one had ever seen him smile so much before. The fact that he even did it in her presence was left out for now.
"Geppetto is talking to Venigni right now," she began to distract from the whispers, opening the letter, skimming the words in passing, which were as expected.
"And he seemed very upset. Talked about someone in particular being insane. I wonder..." she playfully turned away from the paper, folding it up, placing it under her teacup along with the envelope, "...I wonder who he could have possibly meant, and burning curiosity consumes me if I don't learn the reason."
Simon snorted in amusement, having difficulty concentrating on her words due to her purring tone. He was distracted by her wide eyes, which looked up at him expectantly.
"He's been expelled from the council," he finally explained, leaning back in his chair, resisting the temptation to follow that loving even more.
"Expelled from the council? Why so?" Astonishment, even shock, crossed her face.
"Excluded from this one meeting only," he soothed the situation. "Because I decided so."
Because of his petulance, she could not suppress a loud laugh, attracted attention with it. Simon Manus made an unassuming woman laugh and giggle. Something like that rose in the crowd.
"Can you tell me your motive, too?"
Simon felt compelled to brush a small tear of laughter from her cheeks with his thumb. He longed so much to bed his lips on them, to draw out even more radiance in her. He wanted to be seen, especially by the Puppet maker, whose absence had already lasted far too long.
"I don't have the mental capacity to listen to his speeches again. Besides, with Venigni's presence, there could be a tie vote. I don't have the time or the nerve to spend weeks debating this issue. I want to see a clear majority and a decision today. Since this is about a construction from his factory, he has to stay away."
At the end of his statement, his voice grew louder, but not because of his words and their content itself. Meanwhile, he too was reading the letter, pondering, and only now did he realize how important this woman had become to him. He could not understand why Geppetto was silent, why he did not rush into this room to break his nose with all his strength. Because that was the most harmless consequence Simon could face for his actions.
"If you want to discuss the puppet right now, go ahead. I'm here."
She hadn't really realized that something else entirely held importance for him at that moment.
"I don't want to die of boredom in this meeting, and I certainly don't want to be deprived of the surprise of your arguments," he replied, folding up the letter, drawing her attention to it, and changing the subject indignantly.
"Do you want that we talk about this?" He wanted to clarify this situation sooner rather than later, but without the many spectators that were now around them.
"No," Angélique answered, turning away from him. "No, because to be honest, I don't know what to do, let alone think."
Respecting her answer, he put the letter away and leaned toward her. Close to her ear, Simon finally began to whisper. The words themselves were meant only for her, he still wanted to be seen. Even though he fully understood, he explained, she had to allow him the chance to fight. So he asked Angélique to look in the direction of Lady Antonia. She obeyed his instructions and listened, anxiously waiting to hear what he had to say next.
But for the moment he remained silent.
These actions, the absence of any distance between them, incomprehensible words, caused Antonia to get up and leave the room in a hurry. Angélique knew where she was going and understood Simon's intention. Antonia was looking for Geppetto and he would step through the door at any moment, noticing that Simon did not allow her any freedom of movement.
Angélique heard the rapid beating of his heart, felt his deep breaths blend with hers. This sensation was enough to heighten her excitement. And when she heard her husband's footsteps in the distance, Simon began to speak to her in a low, murmuring tone. His words broke through her defenses and made her shiver. It was as if he ignited a fire within her that spread too quickly for her to control her body's impulses.
"I can't wait for the moment when I can once again push your lovely face into the mattress of my bed. How beautiful is the idea of holding you while you try to look up at me, begging me with tears in your eyes to bring you release. And I can see that you know that all pleading is in vain. Every sound you make I will stifle. If you behave and do what I ask of you, only then, I may let you enter paradise."
Uncontrollably, the heat rose to her head. Angélique could feel the passion in his voice as he spoke of this intimate desire. She felt caught up in this sensual tension, wanting to be roughly grabbed by him. He should prove to her that not everything would always go her way. Having respect, he was supposed to teach her.
Time seemed to stand still, she forgot everything around her. Her breathing became more strained. Feeling her heart beat faster. Longing for him to make his threats come true. With every word her desire grew.
Her husband's arrival seemed unimportant at that moment. Simon's intention was that Geppetto also believed he was whispering such filthy words to her. Without shame, Simon explained that he wanted to see the man angry. Angry, because of the many things he had done to her in his absence so far.
Though Angélique followed each of Geppetto's steps, her mind was in places too dark for her to comprehend what was happening. Simon watched each of her features, the sparkle in her eyes. For a brief moment, he too lost sight of everything.
Finally, Geppetto stepped so close that Simon had to move away for his own safety.
Slowly, Simon let go of her and stood up, leaving the woman quite distracted.
It was Geppetto who pulled her out of her thoughts.
Turning to Simon, he spoke, and apart from the fact that it was about Venigni, Angélique did not understand much. Only in the midst of the conversation was she able to form a clear thought. Simon made a sharp remark about the prince of high society, but otherwise did not say anything else. He cleared the way and let Geppetto take the place next to his wife.
Geppetto remained quiet, looked anxiously at his wife, and gently pressed a kiss to her hairline.
"Are you all right, darling?" he breathed sincerely, and she didn't understand how he could still love her. Her look told him all about the dark thoughts she had been having. But he did not comment further on that.
"Yes, I'm all right," she replied, swallowing down the lump in her throat.
"It was just..." She was at a loss for words. Looking over her shoulders at Simon, she walked to the other end of the table and took his seat.
Geppetto smiled fondly at her as she glanced up at him again, stroking her cheek and delighting to see her leaning against that touch.
If he had asked about the words Simon Manus had whispered to her, she would have answered truthfully. But Geppetto was silent about it. He took her hand and no sooner had he explained to her what Simon had already revealed to her, namely that Venigni was excluded from the meeting, a face unknown to her began to rise in the round and opened the meeting.
◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈
Shortly thereafter, the meeting began, and after opening words were spoken into an uncomfortable silence, the members of the council drifted into digressive discussions. Simon's comment that the armrests would still be needed suddenly seemed prophetic, as if he had already foreseen the impending off-topic conversations.
Angélique looked out over the crowd and watched as the man seemed to sink into his chair. She listened, unnerved by the confusing conversations. Sometimes she noticed how his gaze happened to fall on her, snapping her out of her own thoughts. It was as if, with a gentle yet determined smile, he would entice her to forget the frantic swirl of conversation.
She was having trouble keeping track anyway, as the multitude of faces and voices seemed to melt into a mess. To her surprise, she noticed that Simon remained distant for the most part from the numerous complaints and accusations. In the midst of the tumult, he maintained calm, and this unexpected restraint fascinated her in its own charming way.
An hour had already passed when her name was finally called, and that only after Lady Antonia had emphasized the importance of her voice for the representative role. But when her time finally came, she felt a hint of nervousness run through her body.
For a split second, she sought eye contact with Simon, but then shook her head in shock, turning to Geppetto, who whispered encouragement and helped her to get up.
Anxiously, she approached the lectern, and as she quietly raised the word, she was not met with counter-calls or interruptions, as she had expected. Instead, she was met by an oppressive silence. She wondered if the extended silence that descended on her might have something to do with the fact that she had been seen in Simon's presence. However, found no answer to that. The unexpected stillness increased her nervousness, and in her fluster she muddled her words almost every other time.
Then Simon suddenly rose and began to present his counter-arguments in a firm voice. This unexpected step caught her completely off guard, and she had not expected him to take such an active interest in her matter. As he approached, she felt him distract her from her feelings and help her free herself from her rigidity behind the lectern.
Simon was the first not to talk about the society statuses, just as she had expected. She knew that he hated Venigni and only wanted to get rid of the puppet itself, to take the smile away from the prince of high society. Angélique was not swayed by this. With determination, she raised her voice against him, and her words echoed in the council chamber, just as only Geppetto had been expected to do.
In the midst of the heated discussion, it seemed as if he was only eager to watch her speak out against him. He provoked her with every fiber of his being. And she, accepted the challenge, fighting with everything she had.
In the course of her passionate statement, she let go of the lectern she had been leaning on and stood upright. For a few steps she was able to walk without stumbling. But when she was carried away by the theatricality of her argument and executed a dissolute gesture, she unexpectedly lost her balance. Instead of landing on the hard floor, she found herself in Simon's arms.
"Are you all right?" he asked with concern. She nodded, continuing to lean against him. In full view of everyone present and under the watchful gaze of her husband, who had jumped up, then sat down again.
"Although it's not my personal opinion," Simon continued quickly, leading the conversation back, "you might have convinced me."
A hint of confusion slid over her face as she wondered what he might mean by that. But before she could ask the question, he continued.
"You have to do something if you want to win my vote."
Curious, she blinked up at him. At that moment, it took great effort for him not to heave her onto the table and start loving her.
"'Please get rid of those damn shoes already.'"
No longer could he endure her agonizing effort to walk like that. Against all expectations, she complied with his demand without even the appearance of hesitation. With one hand she supported herself against him, pulled the shoes off her feet one after the other and threw them away carelessly. She then stood upright in front of him. Without difficulty she was now able to keep her own balance, and in the process she had become a whole head shorter.
Maybe I have changed my mind, Simon wanted to say. Put your shoes back on, for he had enjoyed it when she was at his mercy. Now she seemed so distant from him. It was her helplessness that drove him crazy.
◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈
"Your wife is a fighter," said a face unfamiliar to her, addressing Geppetto as she turned her attention to the council.
In the heat of the moment, she had completely blanked out and forgotten their presence. Her gaze now fell on her husband, who did not respond to this statement.
Angélique smiled at him. Geppetto returned the same gesture, even if he did not like her closeness to Simon Manus.
Nor had he expected her to return to him at the table. Even before she sat down next to him, he took her hand and would not let go. He had seen the look on the man's face when she had been in his arms. Geppetto almost ran forward in anger.
Absentmindedly, he could hardly concentrate on the further conversations. Manus did not let his wife out of his sight.
Angélique, however, listened to the further discussions and was glad to hear that her argumentation had reached one or the other. Geppetto knew that it had helped, above all, to convince Manus. The man against whom hardly anyone wanted to speak up.
Geppetto was surprised by the fact that Simon Manus had not immediately given her his vote. Despite their connection, he had stood by his views as she had by hers. This was not an infatuation blinded by curiosity and fascination that he recognized in the other man. Nor did Simon only wish him harm, as he had at first believed. In fact, his interest was entirely in her. Geppetto believed he was about to lose his wife to Manus.
◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈
After a final voting was over, the decision was made. A narrow majority decided to keep the doll, albeit far from the public eye, and as a figurehead, something new should be made until the World Exhibition.
Slowly the conference room emptied and those present said goodbye to each other. Impatiently, Venigni waited outside the door and rushed in at the first available moment, heading for Geppetto. The prince of high society could hardly believe it when he heard the joyful news.
The two business partners were ready to leave. Angélique could not keep up. She moved away, trying to find her shoes, which she had taken off earlier in the heat of the moment. Before the two men left the room, however, Venigni cast an irritated glance over Geppetto's shoulder, pausing.
"Why doesn't your wife wear shoes?" There was a hint of amusement in his tone, as he wondered what method she had used to argue if they were scattered in two corners. He had to remember to thank her for her ambition.
Geppetto did not come to an explanation, for it staggered him to see Simon Manus approach his wife and lend her a hand. As if it was a natural act. He picked up her shoes and when he noticed that the woman wanted to sit on the table to put them on, but could not get up, without a word he gently took her by the waist and lifted her up. Her legs dangled in the air and she smiled affectionately, while Simon got down on his knees between them. After pulling her stockings into place, he put her shoes on.
"Did I actually convince you, or did you agree with me for other reasons?" she asked, her voice sounding exhausted.
"My interest doesn't match anyone else's, I'm sure you've noticed. The puppet itself annoys me. Easy to see, that's not a solid argument. Your explanation, however, is. Agreeing with you was a purely objective decision."
Besides, the fact that she had thrown her shoes at him had shown her willingness to fight.
"Now allow me to ask you a question ... Have you made up your mind?"
Smiling, she placed a hand to his cheek.
"I have," she answered, and he understood her gesture. Sighed heavily in response, almost longingly, as if her touch were healing.
Furious, Geppetto turned away from Venigni. He rushed to them, but Manus noticed him in time, picked up the cane, and with it kept Geppetto at a distance.
"'Get your hands off my wife, Manus,'" Geppetto rumbled with firm determination.
Simon sighed, struggling for control, and leaned all the more toward the touch of her hand, as if he knew, once he moved away, he would never get this back. Finally, he raised his head and looked into the eyes of the woman before him. In that expression he realized that she had made up her mind, just as he had suspected from that gesture.
"Look at this, Geppetto," Simon said softly, making her heart beat faster with the following words. "You can have this every day. A hand tenderly stroking your cheek, assuring you that the world is going your way. It feels like she thinks I'm fragile, when it's herself that's already showing too many cracks and tears." Reluctantly, Simon let go of her, detaching himself from the touch. He lowered the cane and stared challengingly at Geppetto.
Geppetto was well aware of the affair between Simon Manus and his wife. The reason why no letters had ever reached them was because he had intercepted them. But for good reason he had never said a word about it.
"Why did you allow this to happen? Why do I have to act in front of you before you even begin to react and fight for this heart?"
Geppetto's anger surprisingly subsided. He looked at his wife who was staring at him with that unbearable pained expression in her eyes. She was aware of what she had done. But he himself also knew that she didn't know how to help herself after he had left her alone. He had even turned his back on her. But for good reason, he had to prove that to her.
That was not the expression he wanted to see. He wanted to meet those bright eyes she just had when Simon returned her gesture. It was only for that reason that he answered the question, looking to her as he did so.
"Because it's been a long time since I've seen her as happy as she was in your presence."
Angélique tried to hold back the tears, staring at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on something else. On anything but the two men.
"You know, Geppetto, the sad thing about all this is that your wife loves you. And that's what you've missed in all this time."
Next to Venigni, Antonia had stepped into the room after she had seen everyone else leave. She had sensed an argument, however, she did not know the reason.
"What's going on here?"
Geppetto was silent.
Manus appeared angry, "This is nobody's business. Especially not yours."
This was a something that only the three of them alone should clarify, but too much had been seen already. Simon could not deny having expelled Venigni from the meeting in part to distract Geppetto and have a tiny moment with her. He had finally roused Antonia so that the latter would eventually come back to her. But at that moment he hadn't quite realized that the puppet-maker wanted to fight for this woman, despite everything that had happened.
The silence of the moment was interrupted when Angélique could not suppress a sob. She tried to avoid all glances, but Geppetto approached her after Simon reluctantly let him and went down on his knees in front of her.
She started for words, but no sound came out. Geppetto knew what she was going to say; after all, he had spent half a lifetime with her.
"How long did I know? Why didn't I say or do anything?" he asked the questions that were on the tip of her tongue, ready to answer.
"When you told me about seeing him and exchanging letters, I lied to you and said I didn't mind you keeping in touch with him. You looked at me with that expression that told me you were hoping for a very different answer."
He had been too blind to hear her calls, he said, and despite all his anger, he was glad to see that someone had saved his wife from falling into a deep darkness. After all, he had left her alone in a once lively house. What other choice was there for her. But then he had realized that it was supposed to be his responsibility. Instead of escaping into work, he should have been with her overcoming all these hurdles. He intercepted the letters for this reason and resolved not to let her radiance fade again.
He believed it could be forgotten. Doubting that Manus could be really interested in her, he wanted to give up. However, he had not reckoned that the latter would not give in.
"I didn't sleep with your wife just out of selfishness," Simon set the accusations straight, silently hoping to make a difference after all. "I loved her, every goddamn time you weren't there for her. And..."
His expression softened as he looked over Geppetto's shoulder at her, realized how she blinked up at him with those eyes that offered him the vastness of the universe.
"...I still love you."
Spoken and admitted, such acts had a very different effect than just knowing about them. It could not have been formulated otherwise, nor spoken by anyone. After all, she had sought the closeness of another man who would love her and show her affection.
Simon wanted her and would do everything in his power to enforce his will.
Angélique felt Geppetto trembling, clutching her hands convulsively. He was angry. Not at her. At Manus to a certain extent. But most of all Angry at himself, for he had put his work above the needs of his wife. He had seen and heard that she was lonely, needed his love. But he could not reconcile it all. And after intercepting her letters as well, he saw again how much weaker she was. Her eyes swollen every time he saw her, for she had cried herself to sleep in loneliness. Powerless and exhausted, she tried to go about her daily life. Thin she had become.
Therefore, he should not have robbed her of the one spark of life as well. And apparently she knew about him intercepting her letters since she had brought it to his attention. And she waited for him to come to her, not to move further away from her.
Geppetto wanted to speak kindly to her, to tell her that everything would be all right again. But he himself did not know where to put the emotions or thoughts.
He stood up, turned to Simon.
"Bastard", escaped from him. It was the only way to get rid of all tension.
But before he could approach Manus to raise his hand against the man as he had intended - Simon was preparing to start a fight - Angélique called out in between.
"Stop it ... Both of you ... Stop it, please ..."
Her voice sounded Weak. Where others would have shouted and possessed courage to stand up for themselves, only a whisper escaped her and she was consumed by her guilt. But that whisper was enough for both of them.
Looking at the two men who were about to bash their heads in because of her. Now there was no turning back. She had to stand up for what she had done.
But she did not manage to put her thoughts into words.
Simon turned to her, past Geppetto, toward her. He placed a hand under her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
"I'm not going to force you to make a decision," he said quietly.
"You'll really try anything, am I right?" Trembling, she wriggled away from him.
"Why shouldn't I try everything to win the heart of the woman who means so much to me? As I said before, I have a right for this chance to try everything."
The rattling of her thoughts was there for everyone to see. In the past, she had been said that she often made speeches that were far too long. Therefore, she had become mute and more deliberate. This was a trait that the two men took to heart. They gave her the time she needed or, as in this case, helped her to words.
"You ask yourself again why all this is so hard ... Why your heart hurts so much and my answer remains the same as the many times before," Simon explained.
"It's because I love him."
She looked down at the floor.
"It's because you love your husband and not me."
Quiet sobs turned into crying.
"I'm sorry, Simon," she whispered.
Again he forced her to give him her attention. His eyes reflected the broken heart, but he kept all the grief to himself. Wiping away her tears with gentle caresses, he came close to her. Then he placed his lips on her forehead, lifted the gray cloud befuddling her thoughts and pressed her head against his chest. He let her hear his heartbeat before he finally separated from her.
"It doesn't have to. I knew what I was getting into from the start. You made it clear to me from the beginning to be his wife. I selfishly believed it couldn't matter to me, as long as I got to see his world burning. The only problem with this is that I had lost my heart to you from the first sight and refused to believe how painful it would be to watch your world burn. And should it do so again, you know where to find me. Goodbye, principessa."
Mutely, Angélique watched him put on his coat and hat. Simon moved away from her, but not without stopping near Geppetto for the last time, looking over his shoulder at her husband.
"Believe me, if I see you break her heart even one more time, I won't let her go."
Before Simon could completely disappear, Geppetto addressed him.
"I will heal her heart. For I am able to fulfill it, her greatest wish," he confessed.
Simon paused, horrified, understanding what the man was getting at.
"I am said to be the devil, while in fact you are," he replied and left.
Silence filled the room for a long time. Geppetto finally reached for his own coat and put it around her shoulders. Gratefully, she looked up at him and he smiled confidently at her. The two of them still had much to talk about, but for now it was all right the way it had come.
In her eyes was the desire to leave and Geppetto was only too happy to fulfill it. But even as he handed her the crutch, Antonia tried to approach her. This was too much for him. There had already been too many strange hands on his wife. Therefore he stepped in front of her, in a protective manner.
Not letting that stop her completely, Antonia looked past Geppetto to her. "Let me get this right, you slept with Manus?"
Before Angélique could answer, Venigni did the talking for the two of them.
"Antonia, that's enough. This is not our business."
"I don't understand. Geppetto, what's going on?"
Sighing heavily, he took his wife in his arms, helped her find solid ground under her feet and spoke:
"Antonia, all you ever see is how we appear to others from the outside. That's not everything at all."
In order to at least get the queen of high society to clear the way, he turned to his wife and spoke to her.
"I fled into work and left you alone. That wasn't the right way from me." And she knew seeking the closeness of Simon Manus was not the right way from her either. "It is just the way it is, we can't undo what has already happened. But I definitely won't give up on you." Neither was she giving up on him.
Without another word they left the conference hall and went out, following the paths shone by the evening sun.
◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈
Empty were the streets. The sun was already set low over the city, for the meeting had lasted almost all day.
Geppetto himself stopped, watched his wife walk toward the crosswalk, and called her back.
"Wait," he waved her toward him. His heart suddenly beat faster as he could see the uncertainty in her face. "Let's go this way."
Irritated, she stepped to him, accepted his outstretched hand and remarked, "This isn't the way home."
Geppetto searched for words, feeling his pulse hammer in his throat, and looked around nervously before leaning toward her and speaking softly.
"Before we go home, I ... want to show you something. Some nights, besides working with Venigni, I've been working on something else."
The sun tilted toward the horizon behind the houses as the two moved closer and closer to the edge of the city. The walk was longer than she expected. Her hip began to ache, but she followed him, feeling the urgency in his movements. It seemed very important to him.
But when she realized where he was leading her, she stopped abruptly. At the end of the sidewalk, she recognized the massive gates that led to the back secluded area of Krat Cemetery.
"I can't do this," she confessed to him. "Please don't make me go in there."
Determined, Geppetto shook his head. "I'm not going to force you. I'm just asking you to trust me and listen to me."
Taking a deep breath, she nodded and strong trembling came over her.
"Do you remember what you begged me to do that night?" he asked patiently.
"I asked you to find a way to bring him back to me," she replied, her voice breaking with emotion.
Geppetto remained silent, nodding, waiting for what had been said to sink into her consciousness and for it to process what had just happened. Her frightened eyes widened, first in surprise, then tears formed in them, streaming down her cheeks. Her legs started moving, displacing all exhaustion. She was even faster than him, who had two healthy legs.
Entering this desolate place just as a couple, walking home, they were three.