Then, tell me, what is the truth?

The line, dressed in his voice, was still wavering in the air.

It was already late at midnight but she was woken up by the line, again and again, without a break.

The storm still continued, the howling of winds and blowing leaves and branches made a horrid picture on the wall in her room, ghastly shadows swirling over the floral printed surface.

The monstrous shadows on the wall, tall and powerful, bending down to the floor as if harassing someone below. But she had to remind herself the sources of the shadows were built with leaves and branches, otherwise, she believed they were the exact monsters out there on the street which she saw on that day.

When a heroine travelled all the way to a foreign land which was so far from home, there’d be a moment when she collapsed in desperation and loath and missed the place she came from. Aurora was suffering from one of these, right there in her bed, hiding her face against her silk pillow and allowed tears rolling to all the wrong directions.

“What secret is he hiding?”

Then, the thought was interrupted by beautiful flows of memories from her Once upon a time, how her mama always picked on some of her tiny improper postures and demanded her to do it right again and how Nanny Flora would sneak in with some books that were forbidden to read in the Castle (and definitely around the entire Kingdom), the books about the Realistic Realm, oh, and so much goodness.

In fact, she started to believe the Realm was nothing like what she read, based on the books Nanny Flora smuggled in, for they were in a complete opposite of what she was encountering.

She had to confess that the night she found out she was, somehow, transported to the Realistic Realm, she was mixed with worry and excitement, which, she believed it could be one of those adventures she read from all her books. But now, with pain and tears, she really wanted to go back. She hoped that it was just a nightmare and when the morning came, she would greet Nanny Flora a good morning and went to the royal meadow to dance with fairies and went to manner class taught by mama and simply lived in that colourful world where no one would suffer in pain, no one, not even the animals and mystic creatures, let alone to say humans!

In here, everything was complicated, even right and wrong.

She turned again in her bed, now facing the door where she could see a gleam of light at the gap between the door edge and the floor.

Knock, Knock, a sound lightly and gently generated.

She thought perhaps she’d been in a dream already and waited in her warm quilt to see what happened next. Maybe an angel stood behind the door. This would explain for the light. Or, maybe, a new world yet to be discovered.

Knock, Knock, Knock, Knock, more and more consistently this time.

A dream it was not, she realised. So, wiped away the tears and dry watermarks, she put on a not very convincing smile, got off her bed, and walked toward the door.

“Who’s it?” She asked quietly, but not in fright, she had no nonsensical idea of ghosts.

“Pardon me, Fraulein Aurora, it is Herr Hubert, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Oh, then, do come in. I can’t let you stand out there, in the middle of the cold dark hour, can I?” She could pick up the importance of the business he was going to inform her from his tone.

“No, thank you, it’s fine. What kind of a gentleman would trespass a lady’s bedroom at such forbidden hour? I receive your kindness and I am more than willing to deliver you the message at the back of the door. Please stay close so you may hear it perfectly.”

“Yes,” she replied with a small giggle that she hoped he wouldn’t hear and sat down on the floor.

There was something about his character, the one that she could hardly find in the Court before. Of course, there were many gentlemen in the Royal household and friendships, but, very few of them truly bore the sincere characters a gentleman should have. But perhaps his presence had already been twisted in your mind for you know his position, a Nazi lieutenant, perhaps he was just a murderer to you.

And, here, at the opposite side of the wooden board, she leaned against, on the very same floor, sat a man bearing those characters which she could feel firmly in her heart. Just within inches, their fingers would touch if the door would be taken away and they would look at each other with an oil lamp between them, the one that Hubert was holding. Perhaps, only then, would they discover something beautiful created by the emotions in their heart.

“I am sorry, Fraulein Aurora, I am afraid you may need to wake up earlier next morning. I will send some servants to help you pack your luggage. You may need to go to a place with me and stay there. Just for a while. It won’t take so long, just until the situation cools down here.” His voice didn’t shake but you would know that it sounded like an apology.

“Is there something I did or…..”

“No, not entirely! The SS, they were supposed to come to investigate the assassination but when they were informed that the General lived again, things got a bit complicated, they said. So, they would let papa rest for one day and would come here to ask more questions. They didn’t want to let away any chances to capture people who would be a threat to the Third Reich.”

Some words, well actually, quite a lot of words in his speech, were not understood. SS? Assassination? Third Reich? What were those? But she didn’t interrupt.

After a silent chill passed through the door, he continued, “Papa knew you would be noticed to them sooner or later, so he wanted you to be away for a while. When they came, Papa would inform you to them as my fiancée and to prevent anything from going wrong, he sent you to be with me in the trip.”

“What trip, if I may ask?”

“It is a trip to my new position.”

“Pardon me, but I thought your new position is in here, Berlin.”

“Well, it is an investigation for my new position. It’s somewhere in the countryside.” He didn’t describe any further, apparently, he didn’t fancy the idea of going to a work trip so she asked him no further about the question of the place.

“I see, however, why would you find it appropriate to assume me as a fiancée? I'm afraid I hardly decipher the meaning of the word, let alone to say being it.”

“It….farley and bluntly say so, my wife-soon-to-be. If it wouldn't be so urgent, we’d never made such impolite gesture which could seem to you, a young maiden, quite improper. But it was…..”

“But how, may I ask, pretending as your fiancée helps me to get away from the hot boiling trouble? Which as well I fail to see the point of such miracle being such complicated trouble to them.” Her language, though as fair as ever, couldn't manage to cover her anger.

A very short silence followed afterwards and ended with his reply, “because, if an officer shall bring anyone with him to the camp, only his fiancée would be allowed.”

He didn't answer her question completely but she nodded after a thorough consideration which he couldn’t see. If he could, he would realise how something deeper emerged on her expression at that moment, a smile of bliss and merriment, just a thought of being his wife-soon-to-be, what a magical idea. 

Her belief that Hubert was the Prince was broken since their first awkward encounter. If he was truly the Prince, on what silly reason would he deny it? Everyone begged for themselves to be, back in her Kingdom, so much so that all those noblemen fought for the championship in every contest with all that they could!

Actually, his denial brought her a bit of embarrassment but it was not obviously painted on her face. Even though ever since then she kept on denying the thought of him being her potential Prince (the one from her dream), she couldn’t deny her feelings that were lurking mischievously, yet, quietly, in her heart. But now, with his suggestion, that once forsaken thought was brought to light again, sleeping in the corner of her mind.

“Fraulein Aurora?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Please, forgive me and my family. We could never think that our payment for your wonderful deed is drawing you into troubles. But, please believe in me, my dear Aurora, my beloved friend, though you may not recall our jolly memories in the orphanage, I will never let anything dangerous happens to you. I will protect you, even if it means costing my life.”

There was no teasing nor was there any doubt in his declaration, which very warmly, gave her firm confidence in him.

“It would mean a lot for what you’ve promised me. Thank you, Hubert.”

“It would mean a lot for knowing that you have faith in me. Thank you, and good night, Aurora.”

“Good night to you too, Hubert.”

Suddenly, the sound of their names became more familiar to each other, closer without the “Herr” and “Fraulein”, closer even with a door between them, much closer that they almost felt each other’s temperature.

***

It was the same winter both Hubert and Armond were enduring, however, the one of Hubert was much warmer than that of Armond, heated with the jumping sparks in his heart he yet to discover.

Going back to his accommodation, to be precise, it was a Castle passed down from generation to generation, and according to his account, now it was inherited by him despite his parents were (Mr Curt and Mrs Curt) still alive.

In the living room, which almost larger than that of the Von Bach household, appeared to be colder with much empty space that was decorated with neither population nor furniture. Yet, it would remain a mystery for Mrs Von Bach to believe such a grand place was kept clean by no maid nor kept organised by any footman, but all done by Mrs Curt herself!

Mr Curt sat quietly on the sofa reading his dictionary, which was larger than his own head, remained silent even after the main door being slammed by Armond when he came in.

Mrs Curt, on the other hand, was doing something less boring. She was knitting and rocking back and forth on her rocking chair. She was more aware of her surrounding, spotted her son who came home quite later than his usual schedule.

More polite than her husband, she said in her high pitch voice, “Mr Armond! Welcome home!”

Ignoring his mum’s calling and with burning anger, he stormed off to the second floor and rushed into his bedroom. No sooner than the door was violently shut, he opened his door again and shouted, almost in a volume that you wouldn’t use when speaking to your mother, “Please, be reminded not to call me Mr Armond anymore, especially in the public! It sounds strange! It’s been almost a decade now! Just get used to it!”

“Yes, Mr Armond,” she replied and quickly added, “oops.”

“Errrr! Please be like dad! He is as silent as a mouse!”

The shout followed by another violent slam of the door.

He would admit, even without your judgement, that his early act was not worthy to be called as a gentleman. But he had no time to regret and confessed his poor behaviour to himself. Once the door was locked, he checked the doorknob again to make sure it was indeed locked.

His room was in a size four times the library of the Von Bach Castle but it was not as organised as it was. You could see that the sleeping area and the study area were clearly separated. The left side of his bedroom door was his resting space whereas the right side was his study space. The latter consumed a much greater space than the previous one and you could smell the wood of the bookshelves and subtle peaceful scent from pages of books. Binders and paper of documents were everywhere as long as there was a surface. Photos and vintage drawings of some peculiar creatures were delicately framed as one of those masterpieces on the wall.

The lamp on his desk was bright, in contrast with the darkness on the other side of his bedroom. Somehow, it gave life to the dust, shivering under the face of light.

“Someday, really, I’ve got to clean up my desk.” He sighed and walked toward the wall next to it.

To be honest, Armond would be in a much more delightful mood if it wasn’t for Aurora’s unexpected act of kindness. After all the years of planning, he would almost succeed, yet, it all ended with a woman’s act of kindness!

However, he was very well aware of the miracle she just performed by which proved to him that she was no ordinary orphaned Aryan lady believed by his best friend.

Very same as Aurora, the wall was no ordinary. There was a large statue of Phoenix placed against it. To her cheek, Armond gently whispered, “Patentibus.” It was “open” in Latin. Then, the upper torso of the statue moved, her countenance contorted a bit and her beaks pronounced, “Welcome home, master.”

There was no great noise nor did the furniture shook, without any hardship, the colour of the wall faded and it appeared in a rectangular door, black in colour, which its height started at the floor edge and extended to the ceiling. Like a veiled door was hidden within the first paint layer of the wall, but more fantastical.