Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

The next morning, breakfast was a lively affair. The boys were animatedly recounting the details of the fireworks in the Augarten that had taken place the previous night, when Lena suddenly interrupted. "Children, we have a performance in several days. It's the Peace Ball at the Metternich Palais. And, oh, let's not forget, tomorrow is the annual market fair in Nussdorf. Mona and I will be baking lebkuchen the entire day."

Everyone spoke at once.

"Oh yes, it will be a merry occasion," Mona exclaimed. "We'll take turns performing and selling biscuits. There will be music and dancing and plenty to eat and drink. There will also be puppet shows, travelling theatre troupes, and many stalls selling local crafts."

The Duke, who had been listening quietly up to this point, set down his coffee cup with a frown. "The Metternich ball is one thing. But do you really intend to perform at a common fair? "

Lena tensed at the Duke's cold voice, bracing herself for the inevitable conflict that would follow.

"Certainly. It has become an Arenheim family tradition. We go every year to provide the music." Theo crossed his arms and threw him a challenging look.

"You intend to stand on the street corner like any ordinary fellow and play? With the entire city gawking at you? While people throw coins into your hat?" His voice was laced with incredulity.

"We have a tin box," Hecki said. "After the performance, Mona goes around collecting coins. It clanks nicely when someone throws in a coin."

"Good Lord." The Duke seemed momentarily speechless.

"We certainly intend to perform. This is the most lucrative event of all, and our lebkuchen sells out to the last crumb," Lena explained, in case he did not quite understand the extent of the matter.

"You are not only performing, but also selling lebkuchen ." His voice grew increasingly frosty.

"You make it sound like we're selling something revolting, like pig's innards." Mona pushed out her chin in a challenge.

"What's wrong with pig's innards? Pig's innards are good," Theo said. "Haven't had them in a while."

"Yes. We eat them with sauerkraut ," Hector said. "My favourite."

"Or stuff them into blood sausages," Mona suggested.

"Or eat the stuffed stomach—with bread and herbs. It's delicious." Lena realised their conversation was missing the point when she caught the Duke's disapproving glare. She cleared her throat. "My point being, there is nothing whatsoever wrong with us taking part in the fair."

"Karl helps us sell while we perform," Les threw in, as if that somehow alleviated the matter. "And when we take a break, we sell them ourselves. We usually have a competition to see who sells the most."

The Duke shook his head. "That's out of the question."

Lena blinked at the Duke. "The competition? But why?"

"The whole thing." He gestured with a hand. "Performing in a market fair. Selling biscuits as if you were a simple farmer's wife." He flared his nostrils in indignation. "I am vehemently against it."

Theo grinned as he leaned back in his chair. "This is what we do. Father's grandparents were indeed peasants, did you know? We sell goods in the streets, haggle, and perform for the ordinary village folk. We will do anything for a coin thrown our way. It's in our blood."

"I do not approve," the Duke growled, "of having the entire world gape at you as you expose yourselves to all and sundry in the middle of a street fair."

"It's not as though it would be the first time," Mona set down her coffee cup so hard, the liquid sloshed on the table.

"How often have you done this?"

She shrugged. "Seven, eight times?"

"Good heavens. No thought at all regarding decorum and reputation?"

"Told you he's a disagreeable, crabby old stick," Hector whispered to Les, who nodded emphatically. "No sense of humour at all."

The twitching of the muscle in his jaw indicated that he'd heard that.

"Oh hush, Hector," Lena placed her hand on Hector's shoulders. She turned to the Duke with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean, ‘decorum and reputation'? Perhaps we should discuss this in private, Your Grace." She felt a sudden belligerent spark ignite within her, followed by an irresistible desire to quarrel with him.

His eyes were wintry. There was a distance between them as vast and cold as a frozen wasteland. "There is no need for that," he retorted. "This concerns your entire family, so let us continue the discussion here."

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Well, if you insist. But we won't let you take this from us. This fair is important. We have to earn our money somehow."

"If funds are an issue, rest assured I have plenty."

"No, that won't work," both Lena and Theo said at the same time.

"We don't want to be dependent on you," Theo added.

"Dependent. What nonsense is that?" A muscle jumped in his cheek. "Did we not agree that I am to join this family as a provisional member, which means that you, all of you without exception, are now my family. Is that correct?"

"Well, yes," Lena said. "I thought that was the general idea. "

"As the head of this family, I can provide for all of you. No more appearances at fairs or anywhere else."

"Wait. Did we ever agree that you are the head of the family?" Theo stood up, planted his legs wide and placed his hands on his hips.

The Duke quelled him with a flinty stare. "I am the eldest. Therefore, I am the head."

"But—" Theo wanted to argue, but Lena interrupted.

"Let us not fight over this now." She turned to the Duke. "Your Grace, I thought we agreed that the idea of you living with us is that you get used to our way of life. That means you must allow us to let us earn our own living. It also means no financial support from you. In other words, we don't want your money."

"I will repeat, for the last time, that I do not countenance having my family on public display," the Duke said coolly. "I will not change my position on this."

Lena threw up her arms.

"He said ‘my family'," Les whispered audibly to Hector, who scowled.

"Even Emperor Francis and his children perform," Mona pointed out. "What is the problem?"

"The difference is that Emperor Francis doesn't do it for a living, nor does he stand on a street corner like a beggar," the Duke countered.

Lena shook her head. "The issue, clearly, is earning money. Unheard of for an aristocrat." She got up to clear the table.

"Noblemen don't work, you see," Theo explained to the boys, who shook their heads with disapproval .

The Duke inclined his head coolly. "You may perform on an honorary basis, without receiving a wage."

"But that's unfair." Theo glared at him. "Why should we perform for free?"

His Grace's eyes narrowed to slits. "It is either that, or not at all."

"Tyrant," Theo muttered under his breath.

Lena pinched the bridge of her nose. This discussion was going nowhere. "Your Grace," she began, her voice firm, "you can't forbid us to perform. It's at the heart of who we are. However, your main concern seems to be that we make a living. I understand that this is unheard of for a member of the high nobility, and you have your family name to consider. We shall donate all our earnings from the fair to the local parish. We won't keep a single Kreuzer for ourselves. Let us perform. Think of it as a glimpse into our family life, struggles and all. Remember, this is only temporary. After that, we'll discuss further arrangements."

She knew that another letter to August, filled with colourful details, would secure some funds. They'd manage. A murmur of discontent rippled through the others.

"Very well," the Duke said curtly, but judging from his clenched jaw, he clearly wasn't pleased.