Tell Your Boyfriend, If He Says He's Got Beef

July, 789, Heinessen

Life in Wrightsville without Annerose was tedious in the extreme for Reinhard. Although he was a dutiful son to his mother, cooking and cleaning fastidiously in Annerose’s absence, and he applied himself studiously to his schoolwork, that still left him with vast amounts of free time to do with as he pleased. He spent much of it outside, jogging through the city streets. He would occasionally play pickup games of basketball with whoever was in the local park, but he didn’t ever speak to them or consider them friends. He swam in the community pool at least three times a week. If he kept himself busy with things like that, he didn’t have to think about the feeling that he was somehow wasting his life, trapped in high school, biding his time.

He would not admit to himself that he was fiercely lonely.

When he was forced to be indoors, he would read or research, and even made a bit of an anonymous name for himself posting on various message boards, discussing military history and economics. He would have preferred to discuss current strategy, but he wisely considered that speaking too preciently about such things (or gathering too much information) was liable to earn him a visit from whatever the Alliance’s version of the secret police was. He had heard stories back on Odin, of course, of what happened to people there who were accused of harboring dangerous ideas. He had no desire to learn what the Alliance equivalent of that was. So, he kept his ideas about current military matters firmly to himself, though he kept a coded paper diary in which he carefully combed through the news and collected information. There was a lot that he could learn from doing this, though he wished he had access to information to confirm the things he learned. Above all, though, he was keeping an eye on the people: politicians and military leaders whose names and faces showed up in the news over and over, and he tried to pry through the propaganda and framing of the stories to determine who the real movers and shakers were, who should be trusted, and who should be avoided.

It kept him entertained, at the very least, giving him something to think about during endless class, or when he stood around cooking dinner for himself and his mother.

The one thing he was looking forward to in his life was Annerose returning from school for the winter solstice break. He had been keeping in close contact with her while she was at school, but her letters and phone calls had been remarkably anodyne, filled mostly with details about her classes, and with her only saying that she was doing a generic “fine”. She was a naturally private person, Reinhard knew, but when she was standing face to face with him, he usually had the ability to understand what she was thinking. Speaking only through messages and quick calls where he could hear her roommates moving around in the background was the opposite of what he wanted.

Finally, her winter break came. Reinhard met her at the airport, standing waiting in the crush of people for her to arrive.

Annerose looked different, dressed in her school uniform, the grey-green pants and jacket, with her hair cut very short. She hadn’t sent any pictures back, nor had she video called him, which Reinhard had thought had to do with her cramped living situation. He smiled at her.

“Welcome home,” he said when she got close enough. “Let me take your bag.”

“You don’t think I can manage it myself?” she asked, but she had a smile on her face.

“I know that you can,” he said, “but since you’ve been carrying it all day and I have not, it seems fair for you to let me take a turn.”

“If you insist.” She passed him her bag.

“Do you want to go right home, or can we get some lunch?”

“Is mom asleep?”

“She was when I left.”

“Then I suppose we can get lunch.”

“My treat.” They left the airport, and got on the city bus, not really speaking to each other until they arrived at a cafe near their apartment. The weather was cold and the sky threatened snow, so the windows of the cafe were steamy when they slid into a booth across from each other, Reinhard slipping Annerose’s bag underneath the table.

“How have you been?” Reinhard asked after they got their lunch, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, looking at his sister. “Really.”

“I’ve been fine,” she said.

“Fine is a word that can mean so many different things.”

“My first semester classes went well, and I’ve made some friends. I get along with my roommates alright. I don’t know.” Something about the flick of her eyes out the foggy window as she answered the question made Reinhard sure that there was more. “How have you been doing?”

“Also fine,” Reinhard said.

“Ah, you turn my own words against me. You’ve been taking care of things at home?”

“Of course. And school is as it always has been.”

“No fights?”

“Of course not.”

“And have you made any friends?”

“Of course not.”

“See, that worries me,” Annerose said.

“There’s really no one here worth speaking to, especially now that you’ve gone to school. I’m glad to have you back.”

“I’m glad to be back, even if it’s just for a few weeks.”

“You said that you had made friends?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Tell me about them?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Is it wrong for me to take an interest in your life?”

“No.” She paused and took a sip of her coffee.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that there are people worth your while at school,” Reinhard said, casually. “I’m just curious to know what they’re like.”

“Well, one of them isn’t even a student,” Annerose said. She pulled out her phone and thumbed through her pictures, showing one to Reinhard. “That’s Jessica Edwards. She plays piano for my chorus group.”

“I didn’t know you were still taking chorus.”

“Well, we all need an elective. And I enjoy it.”

“I’m glad.”

“What’s she like?”

“Smart, passionate. She went out of her way to be helpful to me, which I didn’t appreciate at first, but I’ve definitely come around on.” Annerose smiled down at the picture, then swiped through to the next one. “This is us at the dance the women’s society put on this semester.”

In the photo, Annerose and Jessica were both wearing party dresses-- Annerose in a long blue gown, Jessica in a sparkling red one. Jessica was smiling and reaching up to tuck a flower over Annerose’s ear. Annerose was blushing and looking at someone outside the frame.

“Where’d you get the dress?” Reinhard asked. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“Jessica loaned it to me,” Annerose said. “I had to take it in a little to fit.”

“You look very pretty in it.”

“Thank you.” Annerose took the phone back, moved through another few pictures, then showed him a picture of a man with a smattering of freckles and floppy, light colored hair, chewing on a pencil as he waved a notebook in the air. “And this is Dusty Attenborough.”

“What kind of a name is Dusty?”

“I think he said he was named after his grandfather.”

“That doesn’t really answer the question. What’s he like?”

“He’s very sweet. He writes for the student paper and takes it very seriously. It’s like his baby. I met him because he was doing a writeup about the women’s society. He’s near the top of his class, though you wouldn’t know it from how little he seems to do schoolwork.”

“You like him?”

“He’s a very good friend,” Annerose said. The finality in her voice there put some ease in Reinhard’s mind.

She showed him another photo. “And this is me with my lacrosse team.” A whole bunch of muddy and smiling women stood posing for a photo, all with their arms around each other, and their lacrosse sticks leaning on the shoulder of the girl in front of them.

“You have been busy.” He didn’t know how he felt about all this.

“I’m still the same as I always was,” she said, picking up on the odd note in his voice. “I’m looking forward to you joining me in a couple years, if you still want to.”

“Of course I still want to. Do you like it there?”

Annerose thought about her answer for a long second. “I would stay even if I didn’t. That being said, there are things that have been challenging, and there have been things that have been pleasant.”

“Are you happy?” Reinhard asked.

Annerose looked down at her sandwich. “That depends on how you mean it.”

“I don’t think that it has more than one definition.”

“You would be upset if I told you that I was happy in a place you weren’t.”

“No,” Reinhard said. “And I should perhaps be offended that you think I would be. I want you to be happy.”

“Then yes,” she said, quite delicately. “I am, I suppose.”

“Good.” He ate in silence for a few minutes, just watching her. She was clearly deep in thought about something, and Reinhard had no idea what it was. She wasn’t upset, because she wasn’t biting her lip, but she stared into space in a familiar way. She was still the same, after all, even if she had short hair.

“Why did you cut your hair, by the way?” he asked.

She ran her hand over her head. “You must think it quite ugly,” she said.

“No,” he said. “It brings out your cheekbones.”

“You might think of cutting your hair, sometime, then.”

“No,” Reinhard said, voice short.

“Why not?”

“I like it long.” As he said this, his hand went to the locket underneath his shirt. Annerose watched the movement.

“And that’s the only reason?”

“It is what I prefer, and we can leave it at that. But you didn’t tell me why you cut yours.”

“I’m not sure I should tell you.”

“Oh?”

She looked at him, considering. “To be forewarned is to be forearmed,” she said. “Do you want an unfair advantage?”

“That was done to you, then?”

“Yes.”

“And you let them.” His voice was sharp.

“Yes.”

“Why would you let them?”

She turned away slightly. “Perhaps it is hard for you to understand, but it is occasionally necessary to put myself aside, to achieve a greater goal.”

“You are not an object which others may use as they please.”

“I’m not, Reinhard?”

“I wouldn’t have let anyone touch you, if I was there.”

“I know,” she said with a slight smile. She reached across the table and touched a chunk of his long hair. “But I hope that you…” She trailed off.

He looked down at the table. “You’re saying that I must submit to such things?”

“If you wish to be a student there.”

It was Reinhard’s turn to scowl and look at the table. Perhaps it was childish that he didn’t want anyone to touch him. Perhaps it was a meaningless gesture, to want to keep the same hair that he had given Kircheis, several years ago now. It was a physical connection to the past. And beyond that, he hated the idea of being forced into humiliation.

“If I must,” he said finally.

“You have some time still to get used to the idea. And I could help you.”

“I’m not sure what kind of help you could offer.”

“It’s the upperclassmen who do it, at least at first. I could--”

“No,” he said. “If the point is to not look weak, having my own sister try to protect me would be a poor choice.”

“I suppose.” She stared out the window again. “I do want to help you in whatever way I can.”

“You are helping me,” he said. “I should stop being so ungrateful.”

She smiled at him. “You’re fine.” With an odd note in her voice, she changed the subject. “I’d like to go into Heinessenopolis sometime while on break. Would you care to accompany me?”

“Of course. What do you need there?”

“I’d like to pick up a few embroidery supplies for me to take back to school,” she said lightly.

“There’s no store near the academy?”

“Not that I’ve seen. Besides, I’d like a day trip.”

“And that’s all you want there?”

“That’s all I need.” To Reinhard, it sounded like an evasive answer, but he had no idea what she could want in the city, so he let it go. Perhaps she wanted to get him a solstice gift and was intending to bring him along to pick it.

“Sounds fine, then,” he said.

Before the train ride into Heinessenopolis the next weekend, Annerose seemed unexpectedly jittery. She spent some time staring rather forlornly at the blouses and skirts in the closet that she had left behind when she had gone to school, fingering the well worn cloth. Reinhard watched her do this, sitting with his legs crossed at the desk chair.

“Do they not fit anymore? It’s not like you’ve grown any.”

“My arms have,” Annerose said, then flexed, which made Reinhard laugh at the sight. “But no, they probably do still fit.”

“Then I’m not sure what the problem is.”

“Just weird to not be in uniform.”

“Just pick the warmest ones. It’s cold out.”

But Annerose continued to hem and haw over her outfit choices, to the point where Reinhard got frustrated and took a walk around the block, hoping she would be done by time he got back. She was, having chosen a loose white blouse with a neckline that she had embroidered, and a blue, knee length skirt.

“At least you don’t have to spend time doing your hair,” Reinhard said. “Ready to go?”

“Yes.”

As they sat on the train in, Reinhard leaned on his sister’s shoulder. “What’s got you so worked up?”

She looked out the window, watching the industrial landscape of Wrightsville slide past. “I thought you didn’t notice.”

“I always notice.”

“I suppose you do.”

“So, are you going to tell me?”

“I’d like to meet up with a friend who lives in the city, after we get embroidery supplies.”

“Attenborough?”

“No,” she said. Her voice was very falsely even and calm when she said, “I don’t believe I mentioned him to you.”

“Oh? Who is he, then?”

“His name is Walter von Schenkopp.”

“A student?”

“Yes.”

“And what kind of friend is he?”

“A very good one.”

“How did you meet him?”

“We spoke briefly at a party, and then he played against me in a lacrosse game.”

“Why didn’t you mention him earlier?”

“I didn’t think you would react well.”

“I’m reacting well.”

She smiled at him and tousled his hair. “Sure.”

He huffed. “Do you have a picture of this Schenkopp?”

“I do.” She brought up a picture on her phone and showed it to Reinhard. In it, Schenkopp was sitting at a table in a restaurant, laughing at something. Reinhard studied the photo intensely.

“He’s older than you are.”

“So is Jessica.”

“And why are you bringing me to meet him?”

Annerose slipped her phone back into her jacket pocket. “I believe that you will like him. And he may be useful to you in the future. Besides…”

“Besides what?”

“He is important to me, and I would like all the people who are important to me to know and like each other.”

“You love him?”

“It might be premature to say that.”

“Please, tell me whatever is not premature to say.”

Annerose considered her words very carefully. “I have a relationship with him. I enjoy his company and he enjoys mine. That’s all.”

“And he respects you?”

“He’s been nothing but a gentleman to me.”

“If he ever lays a hand on you, I will kill him,” Reinhard said.

Annerose laughed, but it was a slightly uncomfortable sound. “Reinhard,” she said.

“What?”

“He’s fine. Please, don’t be rude to him. For my sake.”

“I can be polite.”

“I’m not sure what makes you so uncomfortable. I know you think that no one would be good enough for me, but I hope when you meet him, you’ll see that he is.”

“I will keep an open mind.” Reinhard drummed his fingers on the train seat armrest. “You must think me unfair.”

“No,” she said. “I understand why you have your reservations. It would be hard for me to blame you. It’s not as though I haven’t had my own reservations for you.”

“That is not the same at all.”

“It’s not?”

“You know it isn’t.” Reinhard looked away. “The reservations are completely different.”

“You think that I didn’t want to protect my younger brother, just like you want to protect me?”

“I at least won’t be so cruel as to ask you who you would choose: me or him.”

“You know I would choose you, Reinhard.”

He relaxed a little in his seat. “You didn’t have to tell me that.”

“I would have hoped you already knew.”

At the specialty embroidery store in Heinessenopolis, Annerose lingered over the display of threads available and the array of backing fabrics and tools to pick from.

“What are you planning to make?” he asked.

“My lacrosse team might like patches to put on our bags,” she said absently. “I could make a different one for everyone.”

“Oh, sounds nice.”

“And I just want something to do with my hands in the evenings. I miss it.”

“As though you aren’t busy enough.”

“It’s not as though all my time is consumed,” she said with a smile. “Would you like me to make you anything?”

“No, you don’t have to.”

“Hm.”

She bought what her budget could sustain, and then they headed out into the streets of the city, rather unfamiliar to both of them.

“Where are we meeting your, uh, friend?” Reinhard asked, turning up the collar of his jacket against the cold.

“Sixty-third and twelfth. He says there’s a decent restaurant there that’s not too far from his apartment.”

“Okay.”

It turned out to be a walk of several miles, but neither of them wanted to pay the bus fare, and they still had time to kill, so they walked it without complaint, seeing the sights of the city. Heinessenopolis was much nicer than Wrightsville, and was full of interesting architecture and statues in little street corners and plazas. Although Reinhard had little eye for fashion, he still enjoyed looking in the shop windows and watching the people they passed. It was a cold but mostly pleasant journey, even if Reinhard couldn’t keep his mind off the idea of the man they were going to meet.

When the restaurant came into sight around a corner, Annerose took a couple quick steps forward, then stopped, clearly overeager but pressing down her eagerness. Reinhard looked at her and frowned. “Is he there?”

“Yes,” Annerose said, and nodded at a man who was leaning underneath the awning of the restaurant, his hands in the pockets of a long black coat.

“Don’t let me hold you back,” Reinhard grumbled.

“Don’t be silly.” Annerose grabbed his arm and gently tugged him forward a few steps. “Walter!” she called, waving her free arm.

The man looked up and straightened, taking a couple steps towards them. Annerose shook her head at him, and so he stayed where he was, and Annerose and Reinhard made their way all the way up to the restaurant. She let go of Reinhard when they were close, so that she could go stand in front of Schenkopp.

“Couldn’t even go a week without me, could you?” Schenkopp said with a broad smile. He leaned towards her, wrapped his arm around her waist, and kissed her.

Annerose laughed, and her hat fell off as she leaned backwards. Reinhard scowled and picked it up. “It seems that it’s you who couldn’t go without seeing me,” she said.

“Maybe so.” Schenkopp let her go, then looked behind her at Reinhard. He did a double take when he studied him. “This is your brother?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” Annerose said, slightly breathless. “I’m being impolite. Reinhard, this is my friend, Walter von Schenkopp. Walter, my brother, Reinhard.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Schenkopp said, offering his hand to Reinhard.

After a split second of hesitation, Reinhard shook it, though he crushed Annerose’s beret in his other hand with white knuckles as he did so. “I’m sure the pleasure’s mine,” he said, keeping the aggravation off of his face.

“You look so much like your sister; it’s almost scary.”

“We’re twins except for the five years between us,” Annerose said cheerfully. “Thank you for rescuing my hat,” she said, and took it back from Reinhard before he tore a hole in it with his fingernails.

“Just makes me think that you should grow your hair,” Schenkopp said. “Shall we go inside?”

“Time heals all wounds,” Annerose said. “It’ll be longer eventually.”

“I can hardly wait,” Schenkopp said, reaching out to trace with his index finger the short hair that lay above Annerose’s ear.

“Now, don’t be too forward, Mr. von Schenkopp,” Annerose said after half a second, though her smile indicated that she enjoyed the touch.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Ms. von Müsel,” he replied, dropping his hand and opening the door to the restaurant. A warm and spicy smell drifted out at them, though Reinhard was too annoyed to fully appreciate it. They got a table in the back, with Reinhard sitting next to Annerose, and Schenkopp across.

“I love this place,” Schenkopp said. “It was one of the few things I missed when I moved out.”

“I’m glad I will get the chance to enjoy it, then,” Annerose said, looking over the menu. “What do you suggest?”

“Lamb curry,” Schenkopp said without hesitation. “Best thing on the menu.”

“Sounds perfect,” Annerose said. “I don’t think I’ve ever had it before.”

“You’re in for a treat, then. You like lamb, Reinhard?”

“I’m a vegetarian,” Reinhard said petulantly, which was a complete lie. When Annerose looked at him, Reinhard could tell that she was caught between amusement and exasperation, but was trying to cover up both of them.

“You’re in luck, then. The vegetarian section’s on the back page.”

Reinhard was now committed to this facade, so he picked out a vegetarian dish. They made their order, and the waitress brought over flatbreads and their drinks.

“Are you staying here for all of the solstice break?” Annerose asked, fiddling her straw around in her soda.

“My grandmother would throw a fit if I didn’t,” he said. “Even though I’m paying rent on a perfectly good apartment back in Thernusen.”

“I’m glad that you’re here,” Annerose said. “There’s not that much to do in Wrightsville.”

“Do you get out to the capital often?”

“No,” Annerose said. “But now that I have a reason to…” She smiled.

“Perhaps I should make the trip out to see you.”

“She just said that there’s not much in Wrightsville,” Reinhard said.

“I’m sure that’s not true. Familiarity simply breeds contempt. You must do something for fun there, right?”

“No.”

“You didn’t tell me that your brother is the most serious teenager on the planet. He does nothing for fun?”

“I believe I did mention that he was serious,” Annerose said mildly. “You can tell Walter how you spend your time.”

“I’m certain that there is nothing in it that would interest him. After all, I’m just a teenager with nothing to recommend me.”

“On the contrary,” Schenkopp said, “Annerose speaks very highly of you. That does make me curious.”

“But funnily enough, she never mentioned you.”

“Is that so?” Schenkopp asked, and grinned at Annerose. “It is an honor to be your secret lover.”

“Walter!” But she was smiling, too.

“Your sister is a fine woman. I’m sure she has her reasons for what she does.”

“Of course. Though usually they are far easier for me to understand.”

“So, how do you spend your time then?”

“I do my schoolwork. I do household chores. I run and swim. I write a blog about wartime economics.”

“One of those things is not like the others,” Schenkopp said. “What do you have to say about wartime economics?”

“No theory that couldn’t be learned from a fastidious reading of the daily news.”

“Annerose told me that you’re planning to attend the academy-- is that still true?”

“Yes,” Reinhard said. “If they’ll take me when I graduate high school.”

“I was going to say, it’s too bad your friend Attenborough is going to have graduated by the time he gets there. You might make a good contributor to his beloved newspaper, if your blog is any good.”

“I prefer not to have my writing attached to my real name,” Reinhard said. “Besides, it’s just something to keep me entertained. If there is so much more to do at the academy, I won’t need such pastimes.”

“Oh, yes, there is much more to do. Isn’t there, Annerose?”

“You could join lacrosse as well,” she said. “Or any other sport, of course.”

“Perhaps,” Reinhard said.

“What did you mean when you said that you’d only attend the academy ‘if they’d take you’? Are you less academically fit than your sister?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Reinhard asked.

“Tell him what?” Annerose asked.

“For one thing, I’ll be two years younger than the usual freshman.”

“Oh, I know that,” Schenkopp said. “It’s probably not an issue, as long as you’re sixteen before the school year starts.”

“And I have a permanent mark on my school record. That will show up during the admissions process.”

“A permanent mark?”

“Do we really have to talk about this now, Reinhard?” Annerose asked.

“I’m curious,” Schenkopp said.

“A couple years ago, I mutilated a kid’s hand at school because he annoyed me. So that’s on my file.” He stared at Schenkopp with a cold expression.

Schenkopp leaned forward a little in interest, and ripped apart a piece of flatbread to eat it. “I have several questions.”

“I wouldn’t describe it as mutilated,” Annerose interjected. “And he did more than just annoy you. It was a schoolyard fight.”

“I do believe your brother is trying to intimidate me, Annerose,” Schenkopp said. “Should I be worried?”

“Maybe, if I wasn’t here to tell him to be on his best behavior. I would like the two of you to get along.”

“I’m prepared to get along with him just fine,” Walter said. “I’m behaving nicely.”

“Now you’re not,” Annerose pointed out. “You don’t have to compete with each other to be in my good graces. Gods know I’m not worth fighting over.”

“I beg to differ,” Schenkopp said.

“You most certainly are,” Reinhard said at the same time. They looked at each other: Reinhard, annoyed; Schenkopp, amused.

“There’s some common ground you can find, then. And I’m sure there’s plenty more of it,” Annerose said.

“I’m sure,” Schenkopp said. “Annerose mentioned that I might be of use to you.”

“In what way?”

“Maybe I could teach you a thing or two,” Schenkopp said. “I was in a ground combat unit before training to become an officer. I could show you some things.”

Reinhard narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sure what time you think that you will be doing that in, since you live half a continent away while you’re at school.”

“After lunch,” Schenkopp said. “I’d like Annerose to meet my grandmother, and we can go to the gym a buddy of mine owns. I’ll show you some moves.”

“Sure.”

Annerose looked between them. “And I don’t have to worry that you will cause problems for each other?”

“Of course not. I think it will be good for us to have some time to get to know each other, man to man,” Schenkopp said.

“Reinhard?”

“Fine,” he said. “I won’t kill him.”

Schenkopp laughed, but Annerose seemed actually relieved when she replied, “Good.”

“And I’m sure that you will love my grandmother,” Schenkopp said. “She loves to sew, so you’ll probably have something in common.”

“Do you take many women home to meet your grandmother?” Reinhard asked.

“Only the ones who are the most pleasant company,” he said with a wink.

“I’m sure I will love your grandmother,” Annerose interjected, before Reinhard could say something cutting. “Let’s talk about something else, though. Walter, last week you were telling me about your senior thesis, I’m sure Reinhard would be interested in that.”

Schenkopp lived in a third story apartment, overlooking a crowded street on which cart-vendors sold a dizzying array of wares. Before going upstairs, Schenkopp had stopped at one of these vendors and haggled over the price of a bag of apples. He ate one as they marched up the stairs, offering some to Annerose and Reinhard, who declined, one more politely than the other. Schenkopp opened the door to his apartment without even needing to unlock it.

“I’m home,” he called. His grandmother emerged from the kitchen down the narrow hallway. “Brought you some apples.”

Schenkopp’s grandmother was a wiry woman, with long salt-and-pepper hair pulled into a braid down her back. She swatted him with a tea towel, then took the bag of apples from him. “I had hoped these would be here before you brought your guests back,” she said. Turning to Annerose and Reinhard, she said, “You must be the von Müsels. I’m Walter’s grandmother.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. von Schenkopp,” Annerose said. “I’m Annerose, and this is my younger brother, Reinhard.”

“Nice to meet you,” Reinhard said. Although he disliked Schenkopp on principle, his spry grandmother was far less objectionable, and he was able to give her his most charming guest smile.

“Well, let’s not just stand in the hallway. Walter, show them into the living room. Be polite.”

Schenkopp led them into the living room, a cozy little space with rugs on the floor and quilts draped over the back of the couch and hung on the walls. “Oh, these are lovely,” Annerose said, admiring the one that was hung. “Your grandmother made that?”

“I did,” Mrs. Schenkopp called back to them from the kitchen, over the sound of the running sink.

“And is this you as a kid?” Annerose asked, looking at a framed school picture of a young boy, grinning mischievously at the camera. “You were so cute.”

“Yes,” Schenkopp said. “Next you’ll be complimenting my uniform photo.”

“I see you in uniform every day,” Annerose said. “But yes, you look very handsome.”

Reinhard had wandered over to the bookshelf on the other end of the room, and was pulling out volumes and glancing at their tables of contents before putting them back.

“Those were my grandfather’s,” Schenkopp said, standing behind Reinhard. “He worked as a ship engineer in the Empire. Never got to use those skills here when he defected, of course, but he still liked to stay knowledgeable about the topic.”

“You’d think the Alliance would put talent to good use.”

“I think there were several reasons he didn’t end up going back to that line of work,” Schenkopp said. “That was him.” He nodded at a photo on the wall, of a man who looked like an older version of himself, dressed in the imperial fashion.

“When did he die?”

“Five years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Reinhard said. He was more capable of being civil when the conversation had less to do with Annerose.

“To everything there is a season,” Schenkopp said. “Though I’m planning to live to a hundred fifty.”

“Not exactly the easiest thing to manage when you’re in the Fleet,” Reinhard said.

“It will be for me,” Schenkopp said.

“You boast,” Annerose came up behind him. “But I’d rather have the boasts be true, regardless. I wouldn’t want to see you killed.”

He laughed at that. “I only boast about things I know are true.” He glanced at his watch. “How late were you planning on staying in the city?”

Annerose sighed. “Maybe another hour or two? I do want to get home to make sure my mother eats dinner.”

“Ah. Then Reinhard and I should take our little walk,” Schenkopp said. “My grandmother might like your help cutting apples for pie.’

“Certainly,” Annerose said.

“I can manage on my own,” Schenkopp’s grandmother called. “Are you really abandoning your lady friend here with an old woman?”

“You’re excellent company, grandma,” Schenkopp called back. “We should head out while her hands are occupied and she can’t grab us,” he said with a grin.

“Fine,” Reinhard said. He glanced at Annerose. “You’re fine here?”

“Better than fine,” she said. “Go ahead.” And she had a glint in her eye that let Reinhard know that this was a set up-- she and Schenkopp had definitely previously discussed him going somewhere with Reinhard on their own. Reinhard narrowed his eyes at her, but nodded and followed Schenkopp out.

They walked several blocks down the street, and then into a nondescript looking building with a sign on the front that read “Goldman’s Gym and Club”. Schenkopp walked confidently past the front reception desk, without signing in or anything, and then down a narrow and dim hallway, where he pulled out a key from his pocket and unlocked a door, which led to a stairwell.

“You have your own private room?”

“No, just a key to the basement,” Schenkopp said. “I’m friends with the owner. He lets me come down here whenever there isn’t a class or anything.”

The basement room was spacious, considering the price of real estate in Heinessenopolis, and Schenkopp only turned on half the lights, revealing walls covered in equipment shelves, a slightly elevated boxing ring, walls covered in photographs, mats spread out on the floor, and a few dinky tables and chairs in the corner.

“Don’t just stand there. Take off your coat,” Schenkopp said. He tossed his coat onto one of the tables; Reinhard neatly hung his over the back of a chair, then stood with his arms crossed, watching Schenkopp.

“So, what is it you think you can teach me?” he asked.

Schenkopp walked over to one of the equipment cabinets and opened it. “I’m not particularly interested in teaching you anything.”

“Then why are we here?”

“Annerose seems to think that I should be genuinely worried about her baby brother taking a violent dislike to me. I’d like to figure out how much of her opinion of your talents is based in reality.”

“My sister is not a liar.”

“Ever swung an axe before?” Schenkopp asked, pulling one out of the cabinet with a scraping sound of metal on metal.

“I’ve split wood.”

“This will be very different, then.” He turned around and handed it to Reinhard, who investigated it. It was a single bladed thing, a bit over a meter long, with a spiked tip and a satisfying counterweight at the end. The blade on it was severely blunted.

“These are the bread and butter of ground troops,” Schenkopp said. “Goldman, the guy who owns this place, was in the Fleet for a long time. Likes to keep up his practice. Taught me a lot of what I know. Suppose I should thank him for that, someday.”

Reinhard ignored everything he was saying, and swung the axe experimentally. He liked the feeling of momentum it had, once he got it moving. Even blunted, he could tell that this would hurt to be hit with.

“Hands further apart,” Schenkopp said. “Like this.” He demonstrated on his own axe. “You want to have maximum control over the weapon at all times.”

“I know how it works,” Reinhard snapped.

Schenkopp continued as though he hadn’t said anything. “And make sure that wherever you put your dominant hand, you still have control when you switch to a single handed grip. So, don’t put it too low. Better to sacrifice a little bit of range by holding it higher than risk it coming out of your hand.”

Reinhard didn’t ignore him, but pretended to ignore him, as he repositioned his hands and swung again, feeling how carrying the axe changed how he needed to take steps, taking a slightly wider stance for stability. Schenkopp watched him do it for a second, then hopped up into the elevated ring, sitting with his chest behind the rope and his legs dangling over the edge. “Well, are you coming?”

Reinhard looked at him, then climbed into the ring himself. Schenkopp stood with exaggerated slowness, and they faced each other in the center of the ring.

“I’ll let you take the first swing,” Schenkopp said. “Hit me, if you can.”

Reinhard took a couple steps sideways, and Schenkopp moved the other direction, so they were slowly going in a circle.

Reinhard swung, then, a heavy, overhanded strike, and Schenkopp blocked it easily with the handle of his axe, twisting his arms counterclockwise to try to use the motion to pull the axe by its head out of Reinhard’s hands. Reinhard kicked at Schenkopp’s knees, and he was forced to hop backwards and drop the block to avoid it. Then they were back to circling each other.

“Real combat is fast,” Schenkopp said. “You won’t be thinking about dueling your every opponent. Don’t give time for somebody to come up on you from behind while you’re standing around.”

As Schenkopp said this, he took a swing right at Reinhard’s side, and Reinhard lept diagonally out of the way, though the spiked tip of the axe caught and snagged his shirt, ripping a hole in it. Reinhard retaliated instantly, taking a swing at Schenkopp’s extended arms, another overhanded strike. But Schenkopp let go of his axe with his left hand, dropped his right hand all the way down so that Reinhard’s attack missed, and twirled on his heel to swing one-handed at Reinhard’s shoulder. Reinhard brought his own axe up to block but barely made it, and the impact forced him backwards a few steps, almost to the edge of the ring. Schenkopp now pressed on him with both hands on his axe handle.

Reinhard ducked, scraping his axe handle down along the length of Schenkopp’s, then rolled sideways, getting back to a crouch as quickly as he could, then making an underhanded swing at Schenkopp’s legs. Schenkopp jumped over it and brought his axe crashing down towards Reinhard, who was forced to roll out of the way again, feeling off balance. Schenkopp was larger, stronger, and more experienced than he was. It was an unpleasant feeling. He needed to find some way to turn the situation to his advantage. He was more nimble, perhaps, but that didn’t mean much.

“What do you want from my sister?” Reinhard asked as he stood and circled the ring, keeping his voice even despite the exertion of the last few moments.

“I don’t want anything,” Schenkopp said. “I--”

Reinhard jabbed his axe like a pike towards Schenkopp’s stomach as he was speaking, and Schenkopp stepped back and rather awkwardly knocked the handle of Reinhard’s blade away with his own.

“Is it because you’ve already gotten what you wanted?” Reinhard asked, hooking the back of his axe blade along the back of Schenkopp’s, trying to force it out of his grip.

“I enjoy spending time with her,” Schenkopp said mildly, and twisted his axe sideways, popping Reinhard’s catch off of it. He then swung lazily at Reinhard’s side. Reinhard jumped forward and blocked the swing. It was infuriating that Schenkopp was clearly putting in less than fifty percent of his effort. “And she isn’t doing anything that she doesn’t want to do, I assure you.” Schenkopp raised his axe again.

Reinhard saw an opportunity as Schenkopp’s arms were up, and he charged forward, crashing his shoulder into Schenkopp’s chest. Schenkopp took a step back, then brought the handle of his axe down, directly towards Reinhard’s head. Reinhard got out of the way just in time to avoid a true match ending injury, but the weighted back end of the axe still hit his left shoulder hard, and he almost dropped the axe as he stumbled back.

“What would you know about what Annerose wants?” he hissed.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Schenkopp said. “But I think she wants you to be happy for--”

Reinhard swung again, throwing his whole body into it, aiming for Schenkopp’s side. Schenkopp turned and blocked the swing, then kept turning, once again trying to pull Reinhard’s axe out from his hands. Reinhard twisted the axe to free it, then swung again in an overhead strike, and again was blocked. He kicked at Schenkopp, and Schenkopp took another step back, letting Reinhard swing again.

This time, as Reinhard swung, Schenkopp stepped sideways and brought his axe down, directly onto Reinhard’s back, too fast for him to dodge or block. Although it was a hard enough strike to bruise, it left no doubt in Reinhard’s mind that Schenkopp had been pulling his punches. If the blades had been sharp, and if Schenkopp had been swinging with intent, it would have been a fatal blow to Reinhard’s spine.

He had the sense and honor to know when he had been defeated, so he stood still for a fraction of a second, then very deliberately dropped his axe to the ground. He realized that he was out of breath, sweaty, and that his heart was pounding in his ears. Schenkopp leaned back against the ropes, twirling his axe in his hands idly. “Need an icepack?” he asked.

“No,” Reinhard said.

“You’re not too bad,” he said. “With a bit of training, and with your full height on you, I think you could get pretty good at this.”

Reinhard crossed his arms. “But not good enough to beat you?”

“Of course not,” Schenkopp said with a grin. “It’s good to know that for now, at least, I don’t have to be worried about you challenging me to a duel over your sister’s honor.”

“I try not to do things that would upset Annerose,” Reinhard said. “I believe that would fall into that category.”

“And hating me on sight does not?”

“You’re too old for her.”

“And if I was her same age, I get the feeling that you would find something else objectionable about me.”

Reinhard did not dignify that with a response, forcing Schenkopp to say, “I’m not the devil incarnate, and your sister can choose to be with who she likes.”

“That does not mean I have to trust you.”

“I understand why you have your reservations,” Schenkopp said.

“Do you?” He asked the question in the dryest possible tone.

“Annerose told me the reason you left Odin. It’s fair of you to be concerned for her, after that. But I’m not the kaiser, and this is not the Empire, and thank gods for both of those.”

“You wouldn’t want to be the kaiser?”

“What would I get out of it?” Schenkopp asked. “It’s far more pleasant to be with a woman, or anyone, when you know they aren’t just trying to…” He shrugged. “If people are spending their time on me, I hope it’s because they enjoy it, and not because they’re forced to.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

“I like to imagine that most people feel the same way. The universe is not completely filled with evil.”

“It’s a nice dream.”

“Do you not feel that way?”

“What are you asking me?”

“Would you want to be the kaiser, if you had the chance?”

“I feel like you’re trying to trap me.”

“No,” Schenkopp said. “I’m just curious.”

“The problem with the kaiser is that he did nothing to earn his position, and he does nothing worthwhile with the power he has. To get to be the kaiser, I would have had to work for it, and once I was there, I wouldn’t tolerate people around me who wanted things without earning them.”

“Ah, but what would people have to do to earn things from you?”

“I am not a lecher,” Reinhard said, and his hand went to the locket under his shirt.

“You are also a child.”

“I believe that will remain true even when I am no longer so young. I do not have an easily changed mind.”

“I can tell. You’re just as stubborn as your sister.”

“I should hope that’s your attempt at complimenting her.”

“Of course. I’ve been trying to tell you that I respect a woman who makes up her own mind.”

“I understand that she likes you,” Reinhard said, through teeth he was resisting the urge to grit. “I simply don’t see why.”

“Well,” Schenkopp said, straightening up from where he leaned on the rope. “It’s probably for the best that you don’t!” He hopped down onto the basement floor. “I’m glad we were able to have this little talk, but we probably shouldn’t keep Annerose busy with my grandmother for too long.”

Later that night, Annerose and Reinhard sat in their room, speaking to each other in tones low enough that their mother wouldn’t hear through the thin apartment walls. The overhead light was off, so the old yellow desk lamp was the only source of illumination in the room. Reinhard was changing into his pyjamas, while Annerose was sitting on the bed, laying out embroidery thread on her lap desk.

“I apologize for dragging you into today without warning,” Annerose said.

“I had some warning,” Reinhard said. “You’ve been acting oddly since you arrived back home. I suspected something, but I didn’t know what it was.”

“It was rude of me to put you on the spot, when I knew you would be unhappy.”

“If I cannot handle meeting a friend of yours, I hardly deserve to be allowed outside the house,” Reinhard said, taking off his shirt and inspecting the hole in it. “May I borrow a needle and thread?”

“Why?” Annerose asked, glancing up at him.

He held up the shirt.

“How did that happen?” Annerose asked, voice a little light.

“Your boyfriend snagged me with an axe.”

“An axe.”

“How does my bruise look?” Reinhard said, turning around to show her his back.

“And how did that happen?”

“I lost the fight,” Reinhard said.

“I see.” Annerose leaned over towards the desk and reached into the drawer, pulling out a spool of plain thread and a needle. “Give me that,” she said.

“I can do it.”

“I’d rather.” So Reinhard handed her the shirt, and she pushed her embroidery aside to thread the needle and mend the tear. As she began stitching, she asked, “And why were you fighting with Walter?”

“He wanted to see if I was a threat to him.”

Annerose jabbed the needle into Reinhard’s shirt. He watched her with a calculating expression. “And you tried your best to be one, I assume.”

“I wasn’t going to deliberately lose.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“You were the one who wanted me to go with him.”

“I thought that you could have a civil conversation.”

“It was very civil.”

“I wouldn’t call hitting you with an axe civil at all.”

“War is a foundational part of civilization,” Reinhard said, sitting down on his bed, which was really a blanket laid out on the floor. “Anyway, we did talk. It was his idea.”

“I thought he was going to show you a few moves.”

“I learned some things.”

“Through fighting with each other. You could have said no.”

“I would have looked like a coward.”

“There are sometimes more important things in the world than the way one looks, Reinhard.”

“I don’t understand why you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You are.”

“I think it’s ridiculous that you dislike him, and you’re trying to spin this conversation to make me dislike him. You’re better than this.”

“Am I?”

“Are you what?”

“Better than this? I don’t think I am.”

“I understand,” Annerose said, voice rather icy, “that you are young. And I understand that you have legitimate concerns for my well being. And I understand that men enjoy hitting each other to work out their problems. But you also knew that I wouldn’t like it.”

“Must I avoid doing things simply because you wouldn’t like them?”

“I would appreciate that very much,” Annerose said.

“But it’s unfair of me to ask the same of you.”

“What do you want from me, Reinhard?” Annerose asked, biting her lip and looking down at his shirt in her hands.

He was silent for a second and stared at her, taking in the slump of her shoulders and the way that her fingers dug deeply into the fabric she held. “Nothing,” he said finally. “I don’t own you. Do what makes you happy.” His voice was stiff and flat, and he lay down on his blanket, facing the wall.