Focus, man. Focus. A lot to take in last night. I must focus.

For the time being the Prince is still gone. Raphael tells me that a decision about von Wartenburg will be had soon. My hope is that Prince Brückner will be back for that and stay. But my guts tells me that even if she is present for that decision she will have to leave again. Judgement, no matter over whom, isn’t all that easily passed. Now if only I wouldn’t hate waiting so much! Patience, patiences… When’s that gonna happen. I… fear for her. That fear tells me that the first thing I will ever truly write for her, her alone, is going to be an epitaph. If so, it should be monumental and shame Emmet. It’s the first time I’m not sure I can pull it off.

I must say it was odd this time to start the evening out without Thomas there and no prospect of the prince appearing. Nobody really knows where Thomas was. Even his elder told us preciously little about where he got stuck. Judging from the fact that he tossed Mascha across the room my guess is Thomas had more than emotional pain to go through as of late.

Said old man? Creepy fellow. I shudder at the thought of talking to him. I guess that’s just the way it’s supposed to be. Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it much. Other than basically breaking the princely decree for her senate not to go cause a panic and therefore withhold the information of a masquerade breach he was good company though. Considering that it’s not quite so certain if and when the prince will be back I made the necessary precautions, asking for his support as an elder, in case Brückner should stay away for an extended period to time. Thomas, Jean and I are, after all, mere neonates. No matter how smart and clever we may be, we can’t possibly stand a chance against elders and ancillae squabbling over Marburg. We will need support from one of our own elders, if we can get it. Otherwise everything will have been in vain. I cannot and will not let that happen.

Before the evening really started Henry dropped by at my place and we talked over last week once more. Basically both of us overreacted. But we’re cool now, I think. At least I think I got the point across that I will listen to him, even when I think he’s talking absolute bullshit. And everyone knows how important that is to people. Can’t blame them. Won’t blame him. Also he left again for a couple of months. Or longer. Nobody really knows. Again.

Of course things can’t ever quite go smoothly. So when I approached a table that night a few people rose while the rest did not. Father Shepherd was trying to get a point across. But forcing the issue won’t get us anywhere. So there’s no point in that. I managed to talk to him later. Such a loyal fellow that it sickens me. I’m not buying it. However, as long as he cooperates I’m all fine with that. Therefore let’s see how he’ll behave next week.

So let’s stick to unpleasant people for a moment or two. Good old Coraline once more resumes being a royal pain in the butt. One minute she sits around, quoting crappy Disney shows from the 90s, then she publicly denounces a clan sister, she doesn’t rise for her own senator and – obviously – is trying to convince Karsten and Sanders that I’m trying to loose my seat in the senate. Ok, so the latter may have been a ploy. If so, it’s not a very clever one. Because it doesn’t matter whether it’s a lie or not, it’s not very smart either way. So by now I’ve decided I’ll see her hang for it. Or anything that fits the description in a metaphorical sort of way. No playing games anymore. And especially no more playing nice. I’ve had it with you, lady.

And while I’m at the subject of idiots… Karsten, trying very hard to get a grasp of politics, has nothing better to do but to pick the most wrong Toreador EVER to suck up to: Coraline Akada. Now, why on earth would you do that, Simon? She’s bad news. And people who use their eyes and ears every once in a while are bound to notice! More importantly: I use my eyes and ears. Which, in turn, means I end up knowing about you kissing her not all that pretty ass! Is that going to get you any higher in my favour? Hell no! Start. Thinking. And, please… Do it sooon?

Meanwhile I think I have done some good at least to some people around me. Every once in a while I can coax a smile from Raphael. On rare occasions even a small laugh. While he still refuses to neglect his manners he does appear to be a bit more of himself around me when we’re not watched. Which is interesting, considering that he’s usually the one to advise people to keep things straight down to a business relationship. Don’t think one can safely call it that anymore though.

Hell, even Jean managed to laugh in public once last night! In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile so much as he did last night. Fine, most of it was behind closed doors… But at least he wasn’t depressed most of the time like he usually is. On the other hand he still tries hard to protect me. Given the blood in his veins it shouldn’t even surprise me. And yet I find myself hoping that he has some say over what his blood commands him to do. That his actions are not merely dictated by his recent diet. It is hope against hope. Better yet, hope against knowing. Well, what can I say. Even a genius can be a fool in some respects. And I still respect Jean, despite everything that happened.

Business relationships… I made a proposition to Dr. Euler last night, basically hiring him as my personal advisor. Seeing as he’s not likely to get an office within the domain any time soon with that Hanau tragedy fresh in everybody’s mind being close to a senator is the best thing he can hope for right now. Except maybe for being close to the prince. Since she’s not here though and he’s a smart guy a senator is the next best thing. Securing his loyalty as best as I could will hopefully keep his clan in line and keep Sanders off my back. He won’t suffer the risk of her jeopardizing his potential influence by allowing her to constantly give me the finger. One should hope that his voice has a lot of sway within his clan. Of course he assured me that he’d be all discrete. I’m pretty sure he’ll even try and be that. Now if only it hadn’t been him who had informed me about this tiny habbit of his clan to write reports about every little thing that happens… So. Still, I must watch what I tell him.

Again, I end with Jason. Here we have a man, who still manages to confuse me. Last night during the introductions he dropped to one knee and kissed the signet ring I bear on my right index finger. What. The. Hell. And here I thought he wasn’t about old school stuff of that sort. He remains to be full of surprises. Being – well – him he had quite the interesting intel to feed me. Up to now he hasn’t made the mistake to openly trick me into adapting his POV. That moment will come, without a doubt. However, I think he is one of the few people who understands the necessity of a hierarchy. We work well together. I doubt anyone has as good a performance as the two of us have as a team. It used to be three… But Thomas is being more and more cryptic every night. More crazy as well. It’s hard to make any sense of the things he writes. Harder still to make sense of his actions. And the hardest to convince him of something he doesn’t already think to be so. Jason however? He listens, and he listens well. And even when he is of another opinion he says that – and then does his job, no matter whether I gave in to his opinion or not. No matter the kind of relationship people have: You can’t win all the arguements. Every now and then you will have to compromise or do something you usually don’t want to do. It’s the way of things. Doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. Doesn’t mean you should be angry at people for being that way.

“Tell me – is fate unchangeable?” Großäugig sah der kleine Junge den Endzwanziger an.
“Have you been reading those comic books again, Master Elyot?”, erkundigte sich der ältere Mann lächelnd. “Such questions always seem to come to mind whenever you pick up another copy.”
Ertappt sah der Junge zu Boden. “But I wanna know.”
“Want to, sir.”
“Nate.”
“Nathaniel.”
“Invalid arguement.”, konterte der Knirps.
“As you say, Master Elyot.”
Der Bengelt verdrehte die Augen. “Will I have to be that all the time?”
“Naturally.”
Der Junge musterte den älteren Mann abschätzig, legte den Kopf schräg. “If I were to be away from home, then I could not be pushed into any of this, right?”
Milde lächelnd schüttelte der Butler den Kopf und rührte endlich das Getränk in der übergroßen Tasse mit dem grünen Marsmännchen darauf um. “I suppose so. However, it would require you to travel a lot.” Nach wie vor lächelnd nahm er den Löffel aus der Tasse, ging zu dem Jungen und stellte sie vor ihm ab. “And I am not quite sure that I can find you cocoa in the middle of the amazon rain forrest, Master Elyot.”
Der Junge legte beide Hände um die Tasse und betrachtete den Marsmenschen. “Scientifically incorrect.”
“It is your favourite mug.”
“It is ugly.”
“I asume that is just why you like it so much, Master Elyot.”
Der Junge nickte. “Thank you, Greg.”