The Frog

July 9^th 2008

It had been jumping all over the small pond and hiding under the large Victoria Regina round leaves, but patience, effort and team spirit had finally paid off. Triumph ally, like the Victory Column in Berlin, Klaus held in the air the small green frog caught after a long fight.

“Let me see it,” Karl rushed to his brother's side, peering to catch a glimpse of the animal, held securely in Klaus hands.

“Be careful, don't lose it,” answered the other boy, removing his right hand so the other could see the deep shining green amphibian's head. The four and a half years boy looked at it in awe.

“Do you think Guntram will like this frog?” Karl asked.

“Of course, he will! He will let us have it.”

“But he's not here,” Karl said sadly.

“He will come back and he will let us have it,” Klaus affirmed, certain that their tutor would soon return and everything will be back to normal.

“What if it's like the witch said and he's furious with us? We were mean to him.”

“Guntram was not upset with us. He's upset with papa and he's right. Papa brought the witch home!” Klaus defended their position.

“We did many nasty things to Guntram. You threw all your clothes that night!”

“I picked them up when he told me so. You didn't want to bathe and you didn't finish your dinner,” Klaus retaliated the attack.

“It was boiled fish. You also gave pieces to Mopsi!”

“Yes, but I didn't stain the carpet like you did. Guntram had to clean it!”

“He said it was an accident. He wasn't upset!” Karl defended himself. “He's gone because we are bad.”

“He's gone because papa was nasty to him! Stefania fired him too! Papa got this new woman for us and she's in Guntram's room. We have to get her out!” Klaus shouted back.

“How?”

“I don't know. Papa hates when we shout and disobey him. He goes away when we drive him mad, like when we were in Rome or in that place with Mickey Mouse.”

“The minute it's too much for him, he calls Guntram to take care of us.”

“Right, we have to drive him mad and he will apologise to Guntram and he will come back,” Klaus explained the plan he had been maturing over the past two weeks when they had returned from London to find that their Tutor was gone, all his paintings burned down and the portrait of “them all” had been confiscated by their father, claiming that 'you can ruin it with your dirty and clumsy hands. You can have back it when you turn 35 years old.' Now, said painting was hanging in his own private studio and Papa had forbade them to come inside it just because of a few papers they had painted once! Everything was so unfair.

“Papa will be furious with us. He can shout a lot,” Karl preferred to tell his impulsive brother about the consequences before making a decision.

“I'm more afraid of Guntram's punishments. Remember when he made us sweep all the courtyard because we made a mess of the stack Johannes had made that morning?”

“If you're old enough as to destroy a full morning's work, you're old enough as to fix it.” Karl imitated Guntram's voice. “The whole afternoon picking up leaves! Papa shouted Guntram for making us work so much!”

“And Friederich shouted Papa for spilling us.”

“Spoiling us.” Karl corrected his brother with a clear voice.

“Sorry, Mr. Perfect,” Klaus mocked his brother. “Do we?”

“Sure, but how?”

“First, nanny down.”

“Papa will be furious with us. This one has a degree in something for children.”

“She's quite boring with her degree. Do you know what's a degree?”

“It's nothing for eating. Give me the frog. It's my turn to hold it.”

“Careful,” Klaus said, waiting for his brother to place his hands forming a bowl where he could drop the amphibian.

“It's nice and soft, but wet,” Karl laughed at the tickles he felt in his hands with the animal contact. “Do you think we can do it?”

“We are two and papa is only one. He can't do a thing against us.”

* **

Both Serb bodyguards were on their break. The young princes were once more missing -escaping from their new American nanny- but they were not worried. Probably they would be into some mischief now that their Tutor was away. Finding the little devils was the woman's work, not theirs and it was their cigarette break. Her pedantry was too much for the men to endure, so it was better to keep distance.

“Those two look very pleased with themselves. I'm sure they're after something,” Ratko snorted when he saw the two princes being escorted back to the rear entrance, still dripping water and partly covered with mud.

“Don't be like that. They're just children,” Milan said, while he lighted another cigarette and leaned against one of the cars parked in the garage.

“Klaus Maria is hiding something in his pocket. I have 3 children at home and I can tell when they're into something. Those two without Guntram are very dangerous. Don't trust them.”

“The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, Ratko. Time for the Duke to tame those two.”

Guntram kept them with a shorter leash than his! I prefer Goran as boss a hundred times over that boy,” chuckled Ratko very amused.

“Yes, the boy as a way with them.”

“When we were in Rome with the Duke and the children, I wanted to take the first plane to Iraq. Those two were horribly loud and nasty. They drove absolutely nuts the nanny because they wanted to spend Christmas with Guntram and not with the father. In EuroDisney, there's not a single photo of them because they ruined all of them. I lost count of how many outfits the bitch lost because of their dirty hands and spilled beverages. I'm sure those two can vomit at will. My children's doctor told me they can do it when they're young.”

“It wasn't easy for me also!”

“What? Walking around London, going to the Opera and drinking with Ivan Ivanovich?” Ratko sneered, still crossed that the other had had the easy part; babysitting Guntram when he had had to cope with the young and old brats.

“Oblomov is funny when we're in peace. He swears he knows nothing about Guntram's whereabouts and I believe him.”

“Yeah, Goran scared the shit out of him after he fell for Olga Ivanovna's ruse in London. What was he thinking? He knows that witch better than anyone!”

“She wouldn't have touched a single hair of Guntram's if he was there or I for that matter. Goran was right to let him approach us. He didn't think our Duke could react so strongly when Guntram told him he wanted to paint the stupid portrait of her daughter.”

“Yes, that boy has no sense of self preservation. How can you be so dumb as to tell the Duke that you're disregarding a direct order?”

“I bet she wanted to use the portrait to accuse Guntram of being in league with Repin and provoke his execution for treason, to tell that they were lovers or some shit of that kind. I'm sure of it. She counted on his silence. Hey, I got 10.000 pounds from her to keep my mouth shut! But Goran saw it as a way to cut any kind of contacts between the boy and that fucking Russian. It was all the Duke's fault. He pressed the boy too much.” Milan said. “Anyway, that job in Minsk taught Oblomov not to fuck with us.”

“Serves him well.”

“Right.”

“I bet they're smuggling a frog,” Ratko said dreamingly, remembering how carefully was Klaus putting his hand in his trousers right pocket.

“For the nanny or the father? 100 Francs to the nanny,”

“The father, in his closet.” Ratko accepted the bet, getting the money out of his wallet.

“Too classical. Must be something epic what they're planning,” Milan sneered also showing the bank notes.

* * *

Jean Jacques felt lost in bliss with each thrust of his partner's, enjoying the feeling of the big man on top of him. 'God, Alexei knows how to do it,' he thought briefly, sensing that he was going to change his angle and transport him into another level of pleasure. Jean Jacques contemplated the blond man, his blue eyes half closed because of the ecstasy he also felt in each of his moves, half supported on his strong arms, doing his best to avoid crushing with his weight his smaller companion. Jean Jacques lifted his hands towards the nape of his neck and stroked the short hair the wrong way, to bury finally his fingers in the mane on top of his head, moaning unable to control himself any longer. Alexei could be in bed for hours before achieving his release, driving him mad with his mix of unbound passion and strong control of his desires, driving him to the edge of pleasure, just to stop and start all over again. The first time they had made love in the cellar of the Königshalle, Jean Jacques had felt that had been a virgin all his life till he had met the big Russian, looking and behaving like a little lamb or a mouse, but becoming the most incredible lover he had met in his long life experience. 'Alexei is like a drug, one sip and you want more,' he panted once they had sated their lust. 'Do they have a training course in the KGB for this?'

Nevertheless, there was something amiss in all the display -not that he was going to complain at all- of the dropping in his house the previous night, unannounced -when he was allegedly in Iran doing some business- with an incredible real Sturgeon, black caviar 4 oz small tin from Russia, its export banned since 2002, in his hand and some flowers in the other. Strange, very strange indeed as it didn't look like one of Alexei's fits of jealousy or one of his 'search parties', looking for some imaginary lover hidden under the bed or in his oven.

“All right, Alexei, will you tell what is now? Why are you here and why the whole display?”

“I'm just celebrating an early 14 Julliet. Isn't it your National Day?” Alexei answered, sounding like an innocent lamb.

“You're after something Alexei Gregorevich Antonov. I know you well enough.”

“I? I only wanted to spend some time with you! I spent the past week in the middle of an unfriendly place, flew 27 hours, just to be with you today!”

“Don't forget to mention that you took a big detour to Rostov to get this. It tastes like wild Beluga, but I'm not certain. It's been years since I tried one.”

“It's Beluga, Jean,” Alexei answered quickly, glad to divert the other man's attention for a while.

“I know of someone who would kill for it,” Jean Jacques chuckled. “Iranian should do.”

“No, I know you can buy that one here. I wanted something very special, something from my own land.”

“Where did you get it? Don't you have to be a big Mafia boss to buy it?

“Not always. At Anatoly's bakery. He had some. Don't know from where he got it.”

“In a bakery?

“Where else? I guess he knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who has a third degree cousin who knows a poacher.”

“The tin says Malossol.”

“Yes, that is the word for caviar, little salt. Someone must have stolen the tins from the factory. This is wild caviar, nothing from a farm. Much better. I had to buy a special bag to keep it refrigerated and bring it into the plane. Had to bribe the Customs officer. For a second I thought I was going to be caught in Zurich, but the woman in front of me, started to complain with the officer because she had 6 cartons of cigarettes and they let me go. From Tabriz I flew to Rostov and there I met my old pal from the war. He has a bakery and four children now. The best supplies officer I've ever met. We used to tell that he could be able to smuggle vodka into a Taliban camp. He got this in less than 24 hours. Only cash, does not take credit cards.”

“Well, don't tell your boss you were eating this. He might get a fit.”

“No, I have brought some for Guntram too. It's in the refrigerator at my place. It holds for 5 weeks long.”

“Poor man, he really screw it up big time. It was just a matter of time, Guntram would have enough of him,” Jean Jacques sighed, his resentment against the Duke for taking his wife's side almost forgotten.

“He's trying to do his best to fix it. He's going to divorce her, according to Michael Dähler.”

“Good riddance, but I don't think Guntram will return, not even if he crawls and begs for forgiveness. The Duke crossed the line of what is acceptable when he married that vulgar slut in front of him. Lord, I feel disgusted at the memory!”

“Guntram pushed the Duke to the limit of his endurance too!” Alexei retorted heatedly. “He was friends with Repin, no matter how many times I told him he was a slime and rejected the Duke every time he could!”

“What is your problem with that Russian? He's just an art collector! That he was after Guntram is no surprise. The Duke should have appreciated better what he had at home, instead of fucking around!”

“I have no problems with the Russian. It's just he's no good!” Alexei bellowed and lied at the same time. “A true piece of shit. Jean Jacques!”

“All right, you know more Russians than I do. But your precious Duke screw it up when he brought that vulgar, low class cheap slut into the house!”

“The bitch is no slut!” Alexei shouted. “She's the Duchess now!”

“Have you heard yourself, Alexei? 'The bitch is no slut?' What is her then? Old super top model in need of a fix income? Age is hard if you have no talent.”

“You can't tell that about the Duchess!”

“Why not? I'm not working there any longer. I don't have to cope with their stupidity. How do you call a woman who takes 10.000 Francs per month to bring girls for your banker friends? How do you call a woman that gets jewels or something expensive after you fuck her once or twice per month, if there's nothing else available and only calls her for that 2 hours in advance. All that since 1993. She got fired because he was with Guntram.”

“We are no one to judge his Excellency's choice of friends” Alexei said with a haughty voice.

“Alexei there's a very tiny line between loyalty and stupidity, my love. Sometimes I worry about you,” Jean Jacques said and kissed him very tenderly

“Did you find a job?” Alexei asked out of the blue and Jean Jacques alarms sprang to life. So, that was it. Now that Alexei was making more than him, he wanted that Jean stayed at home, away from the heat.

“No, I haven't found a place that I like. There's a spot in front of the lake with a perfect view and the rent is not that bad, but I'm not so sure. It's a bit far away from the posh area and I'm not a 100% sure.

“Yes, of course. It's a important investment for you.”

“It's not about the money, dear. I'm also considering an offer I got from a private German TV Network to work as judge for a contest they want to make. Something about regular people attempting to cook like professionals. I know the one in charge; he was one of those who were in the Bocuse D'Or when I won it. Not bad, but nothing extraordinary. He has a Restaurant in Berlin and thought it could be a good idea to make something like this 'Hell's Kitchen' the American have. Peter says that I have enough temper as to burn down Hell and wants me there for several of the trials.

“TV Jean Jacques?” Alexei asked, not liking the idea a bit. 'Fuck, the less I need in this life is he on a TV program, full with hot looking models and wannabe chefs waiting to be fucked to get a tip on how to boil an egg!'

“Yes, I'm bored of writing books and I need something more challenging. I won two Michelin stars and I would like a third one or perhaps I want to be back on the top ten of the World's Best Restaurants. I'm not sure. I was out of the hassle since 1996. That's almost 12 years. I'm 46 years old and I have still a lot to offer.”

“Why don't you return to the Duke's service, Jean? He will give you a rise and the opportunity to do whatever you please in the kitchen. The Duchess Bitch is away for a long time.

“The fact is that I don't want to return, chaton. I took this month to relax and speak with all my former colleagues and a lot of people miss me.”

“If you start to work like before, I would be never be able to see you. You were in that Restaurant almost 16 hours per day!”

“Yes, it's going to be hard, till I find good people. That's a nightmare. I just made a suggestion about opening my own place and I got 145 CV's from people willing to work for me. I've made a pre-selection. They also want me in another TV program, but this one is about health because of my book Haute Cuisine for Heart Patients. Guntram was a most wonderful guinea pig. Jean Marie also liked it very much. The idea is to cook several recipes per week and it's only one day work when you record all. It will be in Paris, but I'm pressing to do it in Poitiers where Jean Marie restaurant is. That man taught me everything I know, so people should know him.”

“I miss you Jean," Alexei decided to use the pleading kitten strategy.

“You're always working or travelling since you're one the Strategic Planning Heads, whatever that means.”

“I'm doing my best to give you a better life! Is that a crime?”

“Did I ask for it? I make more money than you with my books!”

“Jean, let's don't argue over something so trivial as money. I'm only asking you to reconsider to come back to the castle. The boys miss you so much, specially Karl Maria. Mr. Elsässer told me he always asks about you and refuses to eat any puff pastry that has not been made by you.”

“The little one has taste. Hans is clueless regarding puff pastry. He simply can't get it. He should go to the supermarket and make us all a favour. I never let him come near my own ones.”

“The Raspberry yogurt cake of yours!” Alexei sighed falsely, glad that he had identified the proper course of action; Jean Jacque's ego.

“Yes, the boys love it and also Guntram. He can have it as it has almost no fat.”

“Did you speak with him?

“Nothing and that's worries me. He knows the Duke is not my favourite person in the world. He was coming with you in the morning and in the afternoon he changed his mind? It's very strange and I'm sure the Duke is not telling the whole story, as usual. That boy burned karma for many reincarnations after living with that man for five years. I still don't get how a sweet and kind person can stand this crazy German and it's not because of his money, the only positive thing about him. He's not hot looking; he's boring to the point of tears, crazy, megalomaniac, egoistic, priggish, blind, narrow minded and can only speak about Economics, Finance and History. A real dinosaur!!”

“Love has no reasons,” Jean.Alexei whispered, “But Guntram loved and still loves the Duke. I don't know what they fought about, but it was very big. Goran knows it, but he says nothing. Heindrik told me something about photos from a former lover, but it's so out of scale.”

“That man is an Asshole with capital A. He destroyed by himself any chances of recovering Guntram by getting the whore in the house. Can you believe that she sent the poor lad to buy the champagne, the flowers and hundred of small things related to the wedding? The Duke did nothing at all! In fact, he ordered Guntram to obey her! I would have make him eat his fucking ring!”

“Perhaps the Duke was forcing him to react.”

“React? Sure, after picking up the flowers he would have jumped to Lintorff's feet to ask to be back! Are you stupid or just nuts? That boy has more dignity than all of you together! I'm sure the bitch was the one who framed Guntram with those photos! She and the little slut, Lisette! The bitch hated him since she moved to the Castle! She was hoping to get that position and Lintorff dumped her with a flat in Rome and some money to start a TV program! I'm so glad she was humiliated with that portrait. She had it coming! Bitch! She was pitting the Duke against Guntram every day and he never said a thing against her!”

“Jean, let's do not argue, really. I have my opinion of the matter. It was a stupid move from the Duke, but it could have played out fine.”

“Sure, hit me, bit me, piss all over me and I'll love you more? Idiots, all of you idiots! I'm glad he's gone and will restart his life away from that bastard. He has more talent in one of his fingers than all of you together!”

“Jean, you know I don't want to discuss with you for something that is not related to us. It's their problem, of course and we're not supposed to get in the middle,” Alexei said, returning to his original strategy because he was well aware that this road was taking him to be thrown out of Jean's flat in the next 10 minutes as he was on Guntram's side a 100% 'Lord he coped with the witch just to stay with Guntram and the babies. He didn't poison her because it would ruin the taste of something.' “Think how happy the boys would if they see you again. Guntram told you many times that they missed you a lot. The one who's in your place doesn't let them be in the kitchen and much less cooks if they have brought something from the garden. Karl misses that you let him cook sometimes.”

“Whisking a pair of eggs is not cooking,” Jean buffed half convinced.

“Of course not, he was just learning from you. Didn't you learn from that old man in Poitiers?”

“Yes, thanks to Jean Marie I had my first decent meal. My mother was a fan of those canned soups or sausages. It seems that Feminism and Kitchen don't match well. Thank God my father had a delivery truck and took me to his restaurant and he offered me to try some broccoli and I knew that there was life beyond Campbell's. Have I told you that I was running after school to clean the floors and fold the napkins just to have lunch there?”

“No never,” Alexei said very softly. “I guess Karl was like you.”

“It was bad for me. I weighted 27 kilos at 9 years old and starving the whole day. I was never eating at home. It was truly impossible to swallow that. My sister also thought the same. Have you never realised that whenever I visit my mother is for tea time, never for lunch or dinner? I can't understand why she cooks so badly! My father had a good greengrocery store but she couldn't slice a carrot! She never had time for cooking because she was busy with her school or private students. My rebel years were spent working as kitchen hand in Jean Marie's restaurant every night since I was 13 years old.”

“That must have been very bad for you,” Alexei said sympathetically.

“I can well understand what Karl Maria is going through,” Jean Jacques sighed.

“Why don't you speak with Mr. Elsässer? Friederich would do anything for you to come back. Now that the bitch is away, Guntram will come back. We are looking for him everywhere. The Duke is very concerned about him. I'm certain he will return the minute he hears she's out. He can't live without those babies and when he does it, he will need a friend like you.” 'Bombs dropped, no return from this point.'

“I have a career,” Jean Jacques refused mildly. “I want to have a restaurant of my own.”

“Where else could you cook for the most powerful people in the world? You were very happy when that famous cello player was visiting the Duke a few years ago.”

“Yes, he was kind enough as to ask to meet the chef,Jean Jacques chuckled. ?e signed one of his CD's for me in exchange of one of my books.”

“Do you really want to spend 16 hours of your day in a kitchen with 20 or more dorks, ruining your things while you fight with the Health Inspector or the Tax Office? Only for another Michelin Star? Or bear one of those frustrated, untalented critics? If they could cook like you do, they would be in the kitchen, not behind a desk.”

“He has to apologise.”

“Sorry?”

“The Duke. He has to apologise for what I suffered under his wife. She told me to go back to school!”

“His Excellency would kiss your feet if you come back. He's nastier than usual since you're gone. I would bet he had that argument with Guntram because she drove him mad and the sous chef ruined his dinner. Temper and stomach are linked.”

More than you can imagine, chaton.”

“Would you tell your conditions to Friederich? I'm sure the Duke is willing to grant you a rise and more privileges,” Alexei suggested, renewing his kisses all over his lover's face.

“All right, I'll see the old Austrian this afternoon, but his days of checking my shopping list are over and the Duke has to apologise. A Humility lesson will not be bad for him.”

'You're certainly right, my love,' thought Alexei while he deepened his kiss. 'Mission accomplished. Chef back. Now Goran has to get rid of the bitch and Michael find Guntram. It's much better when we leave Ferdinand out of the mess. He nags like an old lady and the Duke is driving all of us crazy!'

* * *

An imperceptible sign from his brother alerted Klaus that it was time to start the plan. Without any kind of preambles, Karl Maria burst into one of his largest fits of tears during the scold both boys were receiving for playing in the mud. The nanny just looked at him astonished, wondering what she could have said for the second brother to cry like he was doing at this particular moment, in the middle of the kitchen, making all the cooks to stop their tasks. She knelt in front of the boy, trying to calm him, but Karl cried much louder, throwing himself to the floor, exactly as Henrietta was doing in school.

The boy's howls attracted Friederich, who had been working in his office, next to the kitchen and some of the bodyguards, specially the new one, the one who was called like Lola's imaginary friend, Soren Lorensen, who looked dumbfounded at the scene.

“What is this noise, Miss Ford?”

“I don't understand this, Mr. Elsässer! I was just reprehending them for playing in the pond when they know they should not be there unattended!” she answered desperate and prying that Klaus wouldn't start now.

“Did you leave the children alone near the water?”

“Just for five minutes!”

“I slipped in the mud!” Klaus cried, joining the party after dropping the frog in one of the empty jars while all eyes were focused on his brother and the fight between the two grown ups, and closing it quickly. The animal could be retrieved later, when the cooks were busy with dinner and not paying attention to anything that wasn't their meal. Miss Ford would get a visitor in her bedroom tonight. That was a good start to make their father crossed.

But his ruse was not unseen. Jean Jacques smirked when he saw the little boy smuggling something into his own set of porcelain containers from Provence. 'The last I need is those two little devils messing around with my products.' But he said nothing and kept a straight face while the new nanny argued with Friederich over her duties and the children's lack of education and Karl and Klaus howled to the top of their lungs. 'If they fail as bankers, they can always go to Factor X. I had no idea they could yell so much. So, the story of them driving the father mad in Rome is true. They must have provided quite a show. I can totally side with Herod.'

“Miss Ford, we should discuss this in the library. I was a school teacher much before you were born and I assure you, that children stay were you put them if you have given them enough incentives,” Friederich said through gritted teeth after the woman had accused him of having no idea of psychology. “Mr Chesnay, would you be so kind as to wait for me for a few minutes?”

“Certainly, Mr. Elsässer,” Jean Jacques answered and contemplated the sobbing boys, magically reducing the apotheosis crying to a quiet and hurt whining. 'Certainly, a good work. An Oscar Winner.'

“Come outside, children,” Jean Jacques said when the bodyguards left the place and the maids ran away in haste before one of them would have to take care of the young princes. The sous chef, gulped and started to check on the pigeons as he was certain that Jean Jacques will shout him as the cooking gravy was not in its right temperature and had too much leek.

Once the chef was out, in the back garden, he took the boys to the orchard, discreetly followed by Milan.

“Are you coming back, Jean Jacques?” Klaus asked, full of hope while he cleaned his nose with the shirt and took the raspberry the man gave him and his brother mimicked his actions.

“That remains to be seen.”

Please, stay. Hans does not cook like you do and he can't make a cake like you do!” Karl said, half pleadingly.

“I have to speak with Friederich and you two are in troubles with him, if I see correctly.”

“We don't like the nanny. We want Guntram only,” Karl said, taking the next berry.

“Your tutor was fired by the b..witch.”

“We know that. Papa has to apologise and he will come back. Guntram was always forgiving us when we broke something,” Klaus said.

“We have to get Papa to do it. He won't do it until he needs Guntram back,” Karl finished the idea and his brother elbowed him very strongly for revealing the plan. “What? Jean Jacques is a friend!”

“You two are much worse than I credited you for!” Jean Jacques chuckled. “Your big plan is to fight with your father?”

“Not with him. With the nanny. We don't want any one else but Guntram.”

“Papa can't stand if we cry and runs to Guntram.”

“Guntram says that Papa doesn't know how to say sorry.”

“If you already know all that with 4 and a half years, I don't want to be on your enemies' list in ten years. All right, I'll help you. I also want Guntram back.”

Both boys jumped in excitement and happiness as the grown up had agreed to go with their plan, but Jean Jacques shushed them and they remained quiet. “I want to know what you dropped in my priceless spice containers.”

“It's a frog. We caught it in the pond. Guntram will let us have it.”

“I see. Why didn't you give it to Friederich and hid it in my kitchen?”

“First we want to use it.”

“As long it doesn't land on top of one of my dishes, it's not my problem what you do with it. But it needs a place to stay and I think I have the perfect house for... How do you call it?”

“Frog.”

“Yes, Stefania would be too much and poor frog doesn't deserve such a fate. Come with me. You have to keep it with a little water and you will return it tomorrow morning to the pond. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Jean Jacques,” both boys said judiciously.

* * *

With the ease and certainty of his position in the house held, Jean Jacques opened one of the cabinets than contained the daily china for dinner. A satisfied grin played in his lips while he contemplated the white porcelain tureen and the Medusa engraved on its front returned his gaze. He took it from the highest shelf and turned around to present the trophy to the boys, who gasped in awe at the golden handles and Mercury symbol on the lid.

“Mr. Frog is going to be very happy here. It's Rosenthal Porcelain and designed by the late Gianni Versace: Appropriate for a frog of our friend's quality.”

“Is this not Stefania's new set of dishes?” Karl asked while Klaus dropped the frog with infinite care, through the small opening that Jean Jacques had created.

“Your father paid for it, and if she wants it in the divorce process, I will buy a new one. They're quite cheap in my opinion. Nothing is going to be lost if it's broken.”

“They're very fragile. Friederich complains that Annette and Birgitte broke several dishes and glasses in the past months,” Klaus said. “Papa also broke most of the cognac glasses and Stefania was very upset with him.”

“He leaves them on the border of the library's fire place and they fall,” Karl supplied more information, glad to be useful and update their friend on the house doings.

“The glass carafe fell from the small table, next to the door in his studio. Ratko pushed it when he opened the door, but Papa said it had been an accident.”

“Well, it's no problem at all. Accidents happen and this Medusa was a bad girl, turning people into stone. Better keep her away from here,” Jean Jacques ended the conversation before the children will tell more about his former-new employer's privacy. “Now, fetch one of the maids and ask her to help you with your clothes. If your father sees you like that...” Jean Jacques suggested and both boys ran away giggling, with Klaus holding their new treasure. 'Good luck Miss Nanny, it's just a 3.150 square metres residence and a 60 acres garden to look around.'

Fast as a lightening bolt Jean Jacques caught the main butler, Dieter, by the arm and forced the man to look at the contents of the cabinet with a “can you explain this?”

“It's the new china dinner service. The Duchess ordered it last December.”

“Where is the Schwanenservice from Meissen? The one his Excellency uses everyday?”

“Packed and in the basement.”

“Why is it still there?”

“Because it was replaced by the Greek Goddess Service.”

“Are you telling me that since the Duchess left the house, the Duke has been forced to eat in THIS?”

“Mr. Elsässer said nothing about it.”

“How are your relations with his Excellency?” Jean Jacques asked ironically and the man paled. “The Schwanenservice is one of the oldest models. A classical. The Lintorff family uses it since 1815 and you know how attached to tradition is his Excellency. Use the Wellenspielen Relief Service at least! What are you using for formal dinners?”

“Since the Duchess is gone, we only had one,” Dieter answered meekly.

“Please don't tell me you used the other atrocity!”

“Yes, we did.”

"You were born a second time that night, Dieter. Get the blue B-Form service and call Red Cross or Caritas and perhaps they will make us the charity of getting rid of all this!”

“I'll ask Mr. Elsässer first. He's the manager and you're asking me to discard a 25.000 Euros service.”

“Do as you're told, Dieter,” Friederich said joining the men. “I forgot to tell you to change the dinnerware.” He waited for the butler to leave the corridor before asking Jean Jacques to follow him to his office. It was no more that 4 PM and he felt very tired and frustrated with all the small things the old man had to endure during the day. The most hurtful moment was seeing his former pupil on the brink of a nervous breakdown -and hiding it like always, behind a mask of coldness and indifference-, almost mad with concern about Guntram's fate; that woman fighting him on the courts and dragging him to the media mud, a place she loved to be, and guilt because Konrad knew very well that he was responsible for all his doings. 'I lost my mind when I saw those papers, breaking his commitment to my sons. I knew it was all over that time. I never wanted to attack him; shouting with him because he was vulgar to Stefania, yes, but Guntram showed me that she was trying to use my own boys as her new monkeys and I felt like a total dunce. The doctor said that it was a great luck that I had those nitroglycerine pills. Otherwise, he could have had another heart attack and he wouldn't have survived it. I almost killed what I love the most, not once but twice.'

Friederich took his place in front of his desk and motioned Jean Jacques to take the other chair. “I'm glad you're returning with us, Mr. Chesnay.”

“There are a few things to set straight before I make any commitment.”

“I hear you.”

“First, the Duke has to offer his apologies to me. I have enough credentials to have been treated this way.”

“Believe me if I tell you that his Excellency deeply regrets the circumstances regarding your departure. We have been working together for more than 12 years and I have never any doubts about your professionalism and dedication towards your work. I heard the Duke telling the former Duchess that you were an artist and such be left to your own devices. I'm certain that his Excellency will speak with you tomorrow morning.”

“Second, I make my own list of products. Give me an allowance of 25.000 Francs per month and I will manage it by myself. I accept that you check my numbers, but you will not tell me which truffles to buy, Mr. Elsässer.”

“As you wish, Mr. Chesnay,” Friederich growled, making the sacrifice of relinquishing his control over the Chef, just for his boy's sake.

“As you have seen, I can't cook with that kind of china around and I expect the old sets to be reinstated as soon as possible.”

“Yes, of course.”

“And these are my financial conditions,” Jean Jacques said, extending a piece of paper to Friederich, who paled when he saw the figure. “I also want to take a leave once per week to Cologne or Paris to record some TV programs. I want to pursue my career.”

Friederich took a deep breath. It was not about the money itself, but Konrad had to learn that he was not the centre of the universe as Guntram had told him countless times. 'There's a lesson for all us in this.' “Very well, Mr. Chesnay. We will be very pleased to have you with us once more. When can you start?”

“Immediately. Someone has to save those poor birds,” Jean Jacques replied and extended his right hand.

“Indeed,” Friederich shook hands with the French

* * *

“Do you think she will find us?” Karl asked his brother from their crouched position in the large mansard.

“No, she's not that clever. Guntram could do it, but she can't.”

“What is your plan now?”

“We stay hidden till Papa comes. You heard Jean Jacques.”

“Jump on him with the mud?” Karl asked, full of hopes.

“Sure!”

“We can keep the tureen after we leave the frog in her bed. Karl"

“After Papa shouts because we're dirty and wet, not before. Mr. Green looks truly funny.”

“Maybe we should give it to Papa. He likes frogs and toads. He told me he had salamanders from the forest,” Karl suggested while he petted the animal's head, peering from his sibling's hands.

“At dinner time,” Klaus understood the hidden meaning behind his brother's words. Once that Karl had decided to play along, he was more naughty than him and stubborn to an incredible point. Pity, no one believed him because all the old ladies loved his brother's shinning smiles and politeness.

* * *

Late in the afternoon, Konrad von Lintorff and Adolf zu Löwenstein were waiting for Albert von Lintorff at the private jets area of the Airport. They needed to close some details concerning the meeting with Templeton people and several other bankers on the 11^th in St. Petersburg and the men planned to work all night, before Adolf and Konrad would fly to Russia the next morning.

Albert walked down the plane's narrow stairs almost jumping over the steps, glad that his cousin had finally released his pack of lawyers over that disagreeable woman. Things were getting back in place and he couldn't agree more with Ferdinand's opinion; “It took some effort, but Konrad's thick head understood what a mistaken all of this has been. Guntram does his work well as Tutor and Consort. Most of Michael's latest strategies come from his thesis and the figures look very well so far. And he was perfectly right about leaving the fields in Argentina alone. The profits are staggering despite the government's efforts to get as much as they can from us. We should give him a commission. Adolf almost adores him after he made his father's passing so peaceful. Lord, I would have spat the old man in the face.”

The flood of memories stopped when Albert took a good look at his cousin's face. The joke about 'divorce suits you' died in his lips when he saw the sunken eyes and his shoulders slightly hunched. 'I should have kidnapped Guntram the day I heard the bitch was coming home and took him to Torino, no matter his protests. Carolina would have soothed him in no time and he would have saved a bad moment with the whore.'

“Hello, Konrad, Adolf,” Albert greeted the men and gave a hug to his cousin. “Armin will be back to work next week.”

“Good, Dähler misses his slave,” Konrad answered mind absently. “Let's drive home, shall we? Monika tells me that the cook is back.”

“Those are incredible good news.”

“I have to humiliate myself tomorrow morning because of Stefania's doings,” Konrad growled.

“It's not the first time you do it, but it's for an excellent cause; my stomach,” Albert chuckled. “Do you need some lessons in the art of appeasing a pissed off wife?”

“It's just the cook,” Konrad mumbled miserably before entering in his limo, letting Albert and Adolf behind, who exchanged looks.

“Touchy, very touchy,” Adolf whispered to his friend, before getting inside the car and taking the seat in front of Konrad.

During the journey back to the Castle, Adolf started to elaborate on Lehman's Brothers figures and the joint plan from several banks to rescue the company before the American Government would intervene it and save it from collapse. Albert noticed how his cousin didn't pay attention at all to Adolf precise speech and looked through the window, more interested in the landscape than in the talk.

“I will not give or offer a single cent for them, Adolf. It's their problem. I'll only focus on our brothers and I will not divert our resources for people who does not share our views.”

“If the FED intervenes, it could be a total collapse for many of our friends. We don't need a Congress investigation.”

“They should have heard us in 2006 and not being so greedy. I prefer to support our national industries and growing countries. I've asked Ferdinand and now you, to elaborate a list of the capital needs from our companies. I want to ease as much as we can a rise in the unemployment rate. The working class should not pay for the excess of privileged class. I'm only going to St. Petersburg to asses how desperate our friends are.”

When the large limousine parked in front of the main entrance, Konrad was shocked to see his own children jumping out of nowhere, dirty -covered in mud-, wet and crushing him while ruining his suit with their filthy hands and shouting “Papa, papa”

“What are you doing like this? You're supposed to be already bathed and going to bed!” Konrad shouted and Albert and Adolf were clever enough as to keep distance from the very dirty devils.

“We wanted to see you!” Klaus puckered, opening big his blue eyes.

“You don't love us!” Karl preferred to pass to the offensive phase. ?ou're never here!he howled and his brother quickly joined him in a louder tone.

“Be quiet! This is unacceptable! Impossible!” Konrad bellowed, but his children cried one pitch higher. “Did your Tutor teach you to behave like this?” wanted to say the banker, but he couldn't finish his sentence after the word 'tutor' was mentioned as both boys went hysterical.

“You fired Guntram!!”

“It's your fault he's gone!!!”

“Stefania says you did it!!!”

Many of the servants and the nanny ran to the entrance, to find with utter horror that the Duke had two crying and very dirty boys, grabbing him by the jacket. Friederich heard the noise, but preferred to remain in his office, checking the numbers from the estate in Nice and deciding what to do with the repairs needed for the terrace.

“Miss Ford, is this the way to keep the boys? They should be already prepared for bed!” Konrad shouted the woman and she flinched. “Take them away!” He added furiously and disentangled himself from Karl to find Klaus cleaning his nose vigorously against his sleeve. Fighting against the disgust at such act, he peeled off the boy from his leg and muttered a “excuse me, please feel at home, my friends,” before entering inside his house like a hurricane.

“Someone has never seen a child sick, it seems,” Albert chuckled.

“I'm glad I have girls,” Adolf chuckled. “They're ferocious when they fight with each other, but they always look as coming from a magazine.”

“When there are five at home, they all get dirty. The silent work of the Tutor. We never saw anything like that before. Guntram kept them always clean and busy.”

“I'm glad the boys are human. They always behaved so perfectly that I was starting to doubt about my parenting skills. Did Konrad say the working class?”

“The silent work of the Consort,” Albert chuckled. “However, I agree with our Griffin. We have enough crap at home to import some more from the States.”

“Where's Goran? I have not seen him for a few days.”

“Working in a project of his, but Konrad is unaware. We need his reactions to be realistic. He's crossed because Antonov took a plane to Tabriz and Rostov on the bank's account. His yelling kept him distracted long enough for Goran to get lost,” Albert chuckled, remembering the story the Serb had told him that same morning and the fit his cousin had over some 15.000 lousy dollars. 'Konrad is like a geyser.'

“I see, do we have the Magnus Comendator's blessing for this?”

“It's not necessary. Three councillors and the Summus Marescalus approved it as you know. Ferdinand's face of surprise is always priceless,” Albert chortled. “It's my territory, too.”

“Goran proved all his allegations against this woman to my entire satisfaction. Attacking the Consort is like going against any of us. I'm glad this is finally done.”

“Indeed, let's get inside. I want to drink something before dinner.”

* * *

How his own children could transform a peaceful evening with Albert and Adolf into total chaos was something that he could still not comprehend. Konrad was well aware that when they wanted to make troubles, they would put all their energies into it, but why did they do it any time that Guntram was away? 'Klaus and Karl behave so fine with my kitten, but the minute he's away, they are like two Huns.'

Tired and worried beyond his forces, he removed the cover to get inside his large bed. He took the right side as he, after more than two years of separation from his beloved, couldn't get used to use the centre as he had been doing for more than twenty years, before Guntram was living with him. He turned around and touched the empty space, feeling the loneliness and remorse bit his heart once more.

'Where could he be now? No medications, no money, no friends. What if he did something like his father did? He can't be running around with his heart condition! Even if he hated me, he knows I would have never tossed him to the streets like a dog! I wrote him a letter and left him with Friederich! What else should have done? Doesn't he know me as to know that I need to be alone for some time to think things over?'

'How could he come to me with those hideous papers? I was never serious about taking our boys from him! True, I went mad with the photos, but any father would have done the same. He forgave me and said that he understood me! I only wanted to frighten him a little so he would see reason, but everything went wrong!'

'Even if he despises me, he has to return for his children. They need him and he needs them. I don't believe that he's only their Tutor. He loves Klaus and Karl unconditionally. This is all Guntram's fault. I begged him to stop the wedding and he didn't care about me!'

Konrad sighed, already prepared for another sleepless night despite the weariness. 'Fortunately it was only Albert and Adolf, otherwise it could had been a total disaster.'

While the three men had been having a drink before dinner, they heard a blood curling cry from upstairs and when they were going to the main stairwell that led to the second floor, two bodyguards ran over them, driving Konrad truly nervous as they should had seen something in the security cameras. He ran to the nursery area on the second floor, and found Milan already there, putting his weapon back and looking with total scorn at the new nanny, crying hysterically.

“It's nothing, your Excellency. She says there's a frog in her room,” he sneered and the other two bodyguards snorted.

“It's true! It's big and ugly!” The woman shouted. “They put in! They did it!”

“Maybe they were getting you a husband,” Milan couldn't help to tell to the uptight woman who was always criticizing his driving skills. “Poor dears, they still believe in princesses,” he added and the other two men chortled.

“Mihailovic, go back to your work!” Konrad growled, upset that something so trivial had almost provoked him a heart attack. "You, look for the frog!" he added to one of the snickering men.

“I quit, tonight. I'm sick of those brats! They're evil and mean. I have enough!” Miss Ford shouted to Konrad. “I don't care if you're a Duke. Never in my life I saw such a uncaring father! Why did you have them if you don't like them? You're unfit to be a parent!”

“Leave my house tonight, Madam,” Konrad said coldly and walked through the corridor to check on his children.

“They're sleeping, my Duke. Nothing wakes them up,” Mirko Bregovic -one of Goran's new additions to his house staff- said, standing in front of the bedroom.

“I see, thank you,” answered Konrad and went inside to see his boys deeply asleep in their beds. 'This is too much for me. I can't do it alone.'

Sighing, already feeling more tired than before, he returned to the library and his friends laughed at the story, joking that perhaps the frog had been the ghost of Hubertus von der Teich, his own pet frog when he was 5 or 6 years old. One of the bodyguards interrupted his dinner -better than any other in many months and served in his old dishes- to tell him that the couldn't find any frog in the nanny's room and that the young princes have been awoken and were running there, but one of the maids was taking care of them because the nanny went hysterical when she saw them.

Alone in his bed, Konrad tossed once more and turned his back to the empty space, doing his best to ignore it. The unmistakably and loud croaking in his room, made him jump of the bed, to turn on his bedside light.

There, sitting in the middle of the carpet was an ugly and fat toad, looking at him with his expressionless eyes.

Swearing softly, Konrad got his slippers, concerned that the amphibian might pee on the floor. 'Well, that explains the mystery of the ghost frog. It was a toad all the time.' Very slowly, he approached the animal, but it jumped under one of the cabinets and Konrad new that it was useless to go there and try to catch it. If he moved the furniture, the animal could be hurt.

He exhaled a long sigh and prayed for patience, before going for a wet towel in his bathroom. He took one of the hand towels and soaked it in cold water. 'The poor thing must be desperate for water. Tomorrow those two will hear me for not keeping it wet!' He left the bathroom, taking another towel with him, and placed the dripping water cloth in front of the cabinet and turned the light off to stand still near the trap for the toad. Konrad heard it croaking several times more 'funny because their mating season is in April or May' before it jumped on top of the wet fabric.

With great care Konrad, dropped the towel on top of the animal and caught it. He gathered the fluffy cloth and opened the end where he assumed was the head. 'Yes, a toad, definitively,' Konrad decided after an inspection. “What do I do with you? Walking a full kilometre to the pond in the middle of the night is not my idea of fun,” he said aloud.

The toad croaked once more and Konrad looked at it and a smile almost cracked his stern expression. “It will not work between us. It works only for frogs and young princesses. You're a toad and I'm an old Duke, in case you haven't noticed it,” he chortled. “Bathtub it is.”

Konrad opened his bathroom door and still holding the animal and opened the tap to fill the bathtub with some water. “Chinese men say that if you have one of your friends at home you have fortune and your love never goes away. You could do me a favour in that sense and I'll open the window and perhaps you catch something. I truly miss someone and in the moment I would take help from anyone or anything.”

Konrad didn't expect any kind of recognition from the amphibian, but it croaked loudly once more and jumped into the water filling the bathtub, submerging in it. Konrad formed a small mountain with the towels so the animal could be out of the water if it wanted and opened the window over the bathtub. “No croaking and you will not be evicted. Perhaps my luck changes with you.”

He sneered at himself. 'This is going downwards, really downwards. Now, I'm asking advise from a toad. At least, Caligula had a horse. Much more impressive than a green thing.”

He closed the door and heard another loud croak. 'So much for deals with the Animal Kingdom.' He walked towards his bed and slid under the covers. 'Tomorrow my sons will hear me, like they had never before. Guntram's punishments will look like a field day once I'm finished with them.'

He felt all the bones in his back stretch when he squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position and closed his eyes. The buzzing of his mobile phone took him out of his slumber and he answered it with a “Lintorff”

“Good morning, Mr Lintorff, I mean Duke,” a nervous voice with a Russian accent spoke. “I'm afraid I woke you up. Mr. Oblomov gave me this number.”

“What is now?”

“I'm Dr. Rubljov. I'm in St. Petersburg now. I arrived with a morning flight from Paris, from the Place Vendôme,”

“Yes, it's a nice location.” 'What is now with Ivan Ivanovich? Didn't he learn his lesson? Stupid Russians!'

“I had a patient there. A young man, in his 26 years. I saw him on June 29^th He suffers from heart failure and his condition was serious due to his lack of medication. I've given him something to control his tachycardia and fluid retention. The latest condition can cause a severe medical complication if it's allowed. He will need at least a full week of absolute bed rest and no stress at all as he was in a bad shape when I saw him. Mr. Oblomov told me to inform you and send his compliments to you.”

“I understand.” Konrad was able to reply, almost frozen from the shock. “Has the young man someone to look after him or will he need something else?”

“Mr. Boris Andreiev was there. I believe Mr. Repin went there a few days ago, but I don't know. I'm just a doctor wanting to start again,” the man confessed what he wanted with an embarrassed tone..

“Dr. Rubljov, tell Mr. Oblomov that I will see him tomorrow evening in St. Petersburg. He knows the place. Tell him that you must accompany him. We always need good doctors here.”

“And my family?”

“I'm also a family man. Have them ready to leave the country on the 12^th. We will speak tomorrow. Thank you, you have earned my gratitude, sir.”

“I thank you my Duke and I'm looking forward to meet you,” the doctor said, but Konrad had already hung up the phone.

Konrad didn't known what to feel. Relief beyond words because his kitten was alive and taking his pills once again. Sick, but recovering. Fury because Guntram had been so idiotic as to run to Repin for help. 'Of all places in the world! Why didn't he go to Goran's or Alexei's. They offered him shelter from me! Rage because the Russian had dared to put his dirty paws on Guntram, taking advantage of his frail mental and health condition. This time, the Russian had crossed all limits and he was going to finish him off and get his wayward kitten back. His own people were going to do the dirty work and his dearest wife might get a chance to do all what she wanted. Olga Ivanovna had not a single bone of mercy in her body and she will settle the score.

His luck had definitively taken a turn for better.

Image copyright, Versace