Gothick

Chapter Thirteen

Emma woke the next morning, staring at the ceiling and wondering if the previous night had been a dream. She remembered the evening so vividly-her dance with Fredrick, Leon's proclamations; everything else after, when the ball erupted into panic, was a blur. She only recalled Nan ushering her out of the room.

The longer she lay in bed, the louder Leon's words sounded in her mind: "They will always distrust you. You will always be the other."

Perhaps she should seek him out... Emma pressed the thought away. Even so, she couldn't fully banish the man from her thoughts. It seemed neither could the Nördlingen Zeitung. In fact, as she entered the dining room for breakfast, Dominick and Nan sat hidden behind newspapers. GothickDeclaration at Würde Ball was printed in large, bold letters across the front page.

"Guten Morgen," Emma said.

"Guten Morgen, Emma," Dominick said, setting his paper aside. Bags hung beneath his sunken eyes. He seemed shaky this morning, each noise making him look about as though expecting to find a stranger hiding in the corner.

Emma leaned over and read the front page of Nan's paper:

Nördlingen-Last night was to be a night of merriment as Herr Dominick Würde revealed his 'reanimated human', however it was disrupted only an hour into the festivities. A group of individuals, proclaiming themselves as 'The Gothicks,' made declarations against the Majesty and Germany. The Majesty has given very little information regarding these individuals-only that they are powerful, untote-like beings-creatures High Chancellor Agnes Würde has calledNachzehrer. Despite the Siegerinnen's best efforts in apprehending the creatures, they escaped. In the resulting battle, Siegerinnen Captain Siegfried Ritter and his ward, Fredrick Richtigkeit were injured. Richtigkeit is recovering at St. Peter's Hospital, while Ritter remains in Magisterial custody for reasons unknown.

Emma read and reread the last bit of article.

"Surely, they don't think that Siegfried was associated with those Gothicks?" she asked, drumming her fingers on the table. Nan's head peeked from over the top of the paper. Two eyes gazed down at her, and though they were slightly sunken, they remained bright and small as the old woman smiled.

"Oh, no dear," Nan said. "Surely not! I'm sure the Majesty is making sure he's healing properly." Nan's eyes darted to Dominick for a moment, before her head disappeared behind the newsprint.

Dominick spread his newspaper out before him. His thin, ink-stained fingers traced the article's sentences. Every few seconds he would mutter to himself as his gaze darted intently across the paper.

"Have you found where they're keeping him, Nan?" Dominick asked, the creases on his forehead deepening.

"Alas, no, dear," Nan's voice said from behind her paper.

Dominick shoved the papers aside, a scowl crawling across his face.

"Goldstein has his greasy fingers all over this!" Dominick said. "I heard Agnes's requests for his summons last night!"

"You really should call your aunt High Chancellor," Nan said, finally setting aside her paper. The old woman's face seemed to sag more than usual, and more wrinkles creased her face. Dominick grunted as he dragged his breakfast plate forward.

"Why should you care?" Dominick said, stabbing a piece of sausage on his plate with a fork. "You hate the hag."

"Hate is a strong word," Nan replied evenly.