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The morning of 1939 is delicate and warm. The sun is still rising through cotton white clouds and the sky is painted a sweet pink with goldˏ shining streaks. The serene environment is an almost manipulative contradiction to the events happening as of late. Things are worseningˏ darkening and becoming more serious than ever before.
But inside the secureˏ gated estate grounds? It almost feels like a whole separateˏ different world to the one that resides just outside the towering iron gates and cut hedges.
The sound of silverware clinking against plates and high pitched squabbles between your six children over who gets the last sausage surrounds you as you sit at the head of the breakfast table. You bring a cooling cup of tea to your mouth as you shake your headˏ a small smile on your face. Even little Annabelle - just two years old and the youngest of the brood - is not quiet as she chews on her cut up breakfastˏ babbling sentences that are mostly incoherent in between bites.
The volume of the room becomes hushed as a shadow falls over the long table. Reinhard stands just in front of the tall kitchen doorframeˏ dressed in his riding wear instead of his usual uniform. He can move quiet as a snake when he so wants to. Despite his towering frameˏ he is precise and careful in his steps thanks to fencing and often self taught discipline. “What is all the fuss?” he questionsˏ his striking eyes look to each of the childrenˏ his gaze softens to an almost impossible amount when it lands on Annabelle who stares back at him with an innocent expression - an expression that tells him she has no idea what her siblings were arguing about.
Right as the question finishes leaving his mouthˏ the volume shoots up again with a rush of the children all talking over one another - all attempting to blame each other and proclaim themselves innocent. You let out a breathy laugh into your teacupˏ holding it against your mouth to hide the smile on your face. Reinhard moves his gaze up towards youˏ the questioning and expecting expression on his face changing into a warm one - one that he reserves for you and the children. He shakes his head at the children - their bickering still ongoing - before rounding the table. Your gaze follows him as he comes closerˏ stopping when he is standing to your right. “Guten morgenˏ meine liebe.” He leans downˏ one of his strong hands moving to hold the back of your chairˏ and presses a deep - but swift - kiss to your lipsˏ letting out a low hum as he tastes the lingering tea.
You smile against his lipsˏ bringing a hand up to brush along the pale skin of his sharp cheek as he pulls back from the kiss but remains leaning down to be closer to you. “Good morning to you tooˏ Reinhard.” His gaze locks with your own. “Did you sleep well?” Your voice is hushed and gentle. Reinhard arrived home late last nightˏ he had been stuck in his office with even more piles of files and work than usual. You had been half asleep when he arrived home and walked into your shared bedroomˏ shedding his uniform like it was weighing him down before climbing into bed with you in silence - even thenˏ even half asleepˏ you had seen the exhaustion on his face and the deep bags that were forming beneath his eyes. Nowˏ in the morning lightˏ the bags on his face almost looked like deep bruises.
“I am fineˏ meine liebe. Mach dir keine Sorgen um mich.” His answer is almost a whisperˏ meant for your ears alone. His answer tells you that he knows what you were really asking him about himselfˏ that you were asking him far more than how he had slept. The two of you have formed your own little domestic bubble at the tableˏ ignorant to the children who have now reverted back to arguing with one anotherˏ before Reinhard presses a quick kiss to your cheek and leans back up to his full heightˏ his hand still holding the back of your chair. His slender pointer finger strokes your back through the fabric of your dress. He takes in the slight chaos of your children and releases a sighˏ though the release of air lacks any seriousness. “Quiet downˏ meine schätze.” His voice is stern but riddled with gentleness. The table goes quiet once more and all attention snaps to him. “You will shareˏ all of you.”
Reinhard leans over the wooden table and pulls the plate that holds one final sausage towards himˏ grabbing a knife and fork before beginning to cut it into separate slices for all of them. The children watch himˏ waiting for him to finish with a newfound patience. You go back to drinking your teaˏ watching from behind the cup as he places pieces of cut up sausage on their plates. The breakfast room dissolves back into an area with no arguing over a sausage and Reinhard looks down at you. “Ich gehe reitenˏ then i must go.” He does this often in the mornings. Riding is a sort of escape for himˏ similar to fencing. It brings him a sense of peace and clears his head. Your eyes flicker with concern as they meet his. “Do you not want to eat first? There is still plenty left in the kitchenˏ for you.” He shakes his head but brings a hand to stroke your shoulder - a soothing feeling for your mind. “Neinˏ i will eat when i am backˏ i will have some time.” You know the want - the desperate need - for a clear head must be overwhelming for him this morning and bring your hand up to clasp around his own that caresses your shoulderˏ giving it a firm squeeze that speaks a thousand unspoken words to him. He mirrors the squeeze with one to your shoulder and offers a smallˏ rare smile before pulling away and rounding the table once more. He stops when he walks behind little Annabelleˏ leaning down to plant a kiss to her smooth blonde hair. Another smile lights up his face when she tilts her head back and flashes a wide smileˏ babbling to both him and herself. “Gut sein für mamaˏ meine wenig schatz.” His voice is a hushed whisper. “That goes for all of youˏ yes? All of youˏ be good or the music room is off limits for a week.” A mixed bundle of “Yesˏ papa!” comes from around the table.
Just as Reinhard goes to stride out of the breakfast roomˏ to leave the villa and take the short walk to the stablesˏ the unmistakable sound of a chair scarping backwards splits through the air. Minnaˏ the eldest child at 11ˏ is now standing up from her chair. Her plate is finished and pushed forward on the table and her face is painted with eager determinationˏ along with a pitiful plea. “Papa! Waitˏ ich möchte mitkommenˏ please.” Her voice is flowing with a confidence that almost mirrors the same exact tone her father has when he takes phone calls in the home office. Reinhard turns back to look at herˏ his unreadable gaze studies her then flicks to you. The rest of the children are too busy eating and drinking to care. You assume he wants to go alone and set your teacup down in the saucer. You go to settle Minna downˏ your eyes gentle and your voice soft. “Minnaˏ perhaps papa can take you riding tomor-” You cannot finish before Reinhard interrupts. “Go and get the nanny to help you with your riding clothesˏ Minna. You cannot come in your dressˏ it will get dirty. Aber beeil dichˏ sonst gehe ich ohne dich.” She squeals and shoots past him in the doorwayˏ Reinhard smiles and turns his body to watch her. The sound of her feet rushing up the stairs and her voice calling out for the nanny echoing into the breakfast room from the spacious foyer. “Reinhardˏ are you sure?” He turns to face youˏ the small smile still etched onto his faceˏ the crystal blue of his eyes glimmering with something so fatherly and soft - something that people outside of this room would never believe to be possible for Reinhard to feel or express. The look on his face would almost be enough to blind one to the darkness beneath his eyes. “Yesˏ meine liebe.” He brings a hand up to brush through his neatˏ blonde hair. “She has been wanting to come on a ride with me again for too long now. The last time was over a month ago now… Ich habe zu viel gearbeitet.” His voice drifts and his expression faltersˏ an unmistakable look of guilt flickering through his face and in his eyes.
You break him out of his bubble of self resentment and guilt. “Wellˏ you better be prepared to take her on her favourite trail…” Reinhard chucklesˏ a sound that he has been mocked for but one that you love to hear. “Yesˏ i suppose i will have to.” He lets out a sigh and drags a hand down his face at the thought of her favourite trailˏ of the mud and the low hanging tree branches that scrape through his hair if he does not lean down on the horse in timeˏ but his smile tells all; he does not mind itˏ so long as it makes her happy.
Minna rushes back into the breakfast roomˏ interrupting the moment of comfortable quiet with her out of breath huffsˏ now dressed in her best riding clothes. She looks up at Reinhard who turns towards her and checks her over with a watchful eyeˏ even crouching down to make sure that her shoes are on tightˏ before giving a firm nod. “Gutˏ sind sie bereit?” She nods in returnˏ loose strands of her blonde hair falling across her face and in front of her blue eyes with the eagerness of her nodding. “Okayˏ come along.” She shoots out of the door once moreˏ this time heading for the front door whilst yelling out an excited and breathy “Byeˏ mama!” as she goes. Reinhard is left behind in the dustˏ shaking his head with a smileˏ he looks to you one last time. “Wir sind bald zurück. Ich liebe dichˏ meine liebe.” You smile and blow him a kissˏ laughing as he reluctantly catches it in his hand and presses it to his chest. “I love you tooˏ my love. Have a good ride and make sure she is careful.” He nods before walking out of the breakfast roomˏ his steps heavy and confidentˏ his stride more confident than ever in the past week.
You listen as the front door opens before closing againˏ a smile graces your face as you think of Reinhard helping Minna up onto her saddleˏ of how the sun will be shining down on themˏ of how the morning seems to be welcoming them with open armsˏ of how eager he was to spend time with his first born after his work and his duties had held him hostage for so long. You sink further against the comfortable kitchen chairˏ smiling as you watch the rest of your children share bread. For one morningˏ you allow yourself to forget about the growing darkness that creeps closer and closer every day.