Heiress in Distress

•Chapter 18•

Blood.

Blood, among other things, is the very regular guest in times of war. And when coming to link it to the previous clue, I notice they share something in common.
A distinguishable color.
Black hole. Red Blood.

As if on cue, my heart against my fragile ribcage, the thought of being close to an answer triggering a chain reaction of emotions, on top of which, curiosity.

Three: I'm lowest in rank,
I'm a long time companion of most women.

Clue number three actually brings my ability to guess's hands up in surrender.
This one definitely beats me, and it's the reason I almost give up, until I'm reminded of the last clue -the geographical clue.

The three of us assembled together represent power, emanating from the 3 decade old unity of the East and the West.

For this one, I'm gonna need a look through the list of events I copied off the article -the list that weighs the left portion of my desk down, begging for attention.
So that's what it turns to, a stare-down between me and the duo of the riddle and the list.

Two on one; a distant sense of indignation jabs at my ability to think straight.

I find myself staring at the first event in the list with a remote knocking in the door of my subconsciousness;

'Reunification of Germany'

And just like that, a torrent of precognitive estimation leads to the appearance of the German flag behind my eyes, all vivd and clear.

Black. Red. Gold.

The colours of the German flag in that same order. Something draws me in to the third clue once again, with a newly found desire to crack it.

Three: I'm lowest in rank,
I'm a long time companion of most women.
-Definitely gold. Gold is a colour and a long time companion of most women, one of who has been my mother.

I'm suddenly thankful for my geography teacher in 4th grade back in Germany, where she stressed that our flag's third colour is gold, despite being falsely depicted as yellow.

In that second, I recognise myself -the wide eyes, the deep heaving, and the hysterical laughter.

Who's your daddy now ?
I hear myself yelling at the riddle on my desk.

The very unmoving riddle.

The sweeping joy -expressed in my punching the air and fighting back the tears- that ensues my cracking the riddle is ephemeral.

Since I was entitled to a life full of misfortune and upset, the concern at the anonymity of the sender and the dig brought by the subject of this riddle strips me of my smile and grants me with a rapidly beating heart and a mad sense of worry, that makes me wonder;

Who, with this much of a contorted state of mindset, would dare send me, a person who's moved to France recently as incognito, the flag of my native country ?

Quite frankly, I find it unnerving, like duelling, with a twig for a weapon, a person with a sword, on a high cliff with my eyes tied.

•••

"Don't get me wrong; I love my mother but she can be a little bit too persistent sometimes," Armin pauses when I shoot him a disapproving look.

The sounds of chatty high school students in the background makes concentrating on what Armin is saying difficult.
Reaching across to my tray for the bag of ketchup, Armin tears the bag with his teeth before emptying its contents on his tray.