A Night to Remember

A Night to Remember

March 11^th, 1983

Paris

Tiredness clung to his bones despite his mere twenty-five years of age. The dreaded Good Friday meeting loomed in his near future, and nothing was good enough to please the associates, all looking for a way to get rid of him as soon as possible. Nothing would ever be good enough for them.

His uncle Hermann and Gustav zu Löwenstein—the Magnus Commendator—, along with Razim Mladic Pavicevic—the Summus Marescalus—, were his only supporters. Strong as they were, though, they would account for nothing if he didn’t get the required two-thirds of the votes, and he only controlled forty-two percent of them.

‘Just a year more, that is all that I ask of them. All that I have built over the past year cannot be crushed in one day.'

He opened the door to the large Executive Suite, permanently rented for the past two years, and wondered why he had been so stupid as to keep it. 'It shouldn't have gone beyond that one night. Maybe two, but nothing else. He's the son of the Head in France! He's married to Maria Augusta! If the Vicomte finds out, he will kill me. Löwenstein will kill me for ruining his niece's marriage. There’s no other way, I have to get rid of him! I will break up with him after tonight!'

Standing in the middle of the living room, his eyes took in the baroque, golden-cream decoration. He sighed before he threw his briefcase over the red damask chair in front of the fireplace. On top of the small round coffee table was a tiny envelope and the young man opened it. The card only said “327”, and he sighed again. 'Roger could at least show some enthusiasm to see me, or use the other bedroom. He loves to make me crawl to his own dingy place.'

One crazy night of champagne and oysters had been all he had needed to ruin his life. Their liaison was never meant to be, but it was, and he couldn't find a way to break free from the invisible chains pulling him into Roger de Lisle's bed. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be serious and yet, here we are: with me working like a madman in Manhattan to finish all pending issues, almost living in the Concorde, just to be here at eight o'clock for a cold dinner and a good night of fun.'

He loosened his silk tie and threw it over the chair, to be followed by the jacket, crumpled over it. He flexed his sore neck muscles and looked around once more, unable to identify the source of the sudden sadness that had overtaken him.

'Why? I'm only going to meet with Roger. His wife is in Vienna. It should be easy.'

* * *

“What you feel for this man has one name, Konrad von Lintorff: Lust. As simple as that,” his tutor had scolded him not a week ago, after he had confessed his forbidden relationship. “You like the danger and the risk, nothing else. Love is not what you're describing.”

“What can you know about love?” Konrad had yelled, completely out of himself. He didn't need to be told off like a little boy; he needed some support and understanding. “You were never married or lived with anyone!”

Konrad had immediately regretted his words because no one had felt more his father's death some years ago than Friederich. The tutor had remained by the former duke’s sickbed without complaints till the last moment, while Konrad had been busy trying to solve some investments in Southeast Asia. Ashamed, he cast his eyes down, unable to hold the azure gaze examining him.

“I know more than you can imagine, boy,” Friederich had growled. “To love is to sacrifice yourself for the other person. Love is companionship and generosity. What you feel is only lust. Satisfy it, but don't call it love.”

But Konrad didn't know how to retreat; he had not been educated to relinquish his position, so he answered as he had been taught by his late father: “I will do as I see fit, Friederich. Thank you.”

Hearing that, the Austrian had turned around and left the room. Konrad knew that it would take some time for his tutor's fury at his ungrateful words to lessen. 'Friederich has to understand that I'm not his boy any longer. I am the Duke now; and Roger loves me, as I him. Friederich does not understand how things are done nowadays. He's as outdated as all of the other members. For them, banking is just lending money to buy a house or selling insurance policies to public servants!

'Only Roger can understand me. If only he would take me more seriously, everything would be perfect.'

* * *

Konrad opened the door to the main bedroom and took an informal outfit from the closet—a pair of beige jeans, a light blue Lacoste polo shirt, and a V-neck pink angora jersey. He quickly undressed himself, revelling in the freedom of being able to leave the clothes scattered all around, with no one to tell him to fold them and put them on a chair. He hated disorder, but the strict discipline under which he had lived as Friederich's pupil tempted him to behave like a pig, especially when he was away from home.

The shower brought him back to life, the hot water spray relaxing tired muscles and making him feel once more his twenty-five years of age instead of like an old man. 'While Albert was probably dating Carolina, and Ferdinand was looking for a way to escape Gertrud, I was in a room full of people wearing suspenders so that their trousers could feel free to strangle them.' Konrad chuckled like a boy at the image of old von Ribbentrop, wearing his trousers well atop of the Equator Line and firmly held up by black and red striped suspenders adorned with the newest trend in fashion: golden loops. 'Why can't they adopt my views, if they're willing to wear such ridiculous things? I should bribe their girlfriends so they talk about emerging markets instead of fashion.'

Chuckling still, he dried his blond hair with a towel and threw it onto the floor, combing his messy hair towards the right in three precise moves. He got dressed quickly, and once more acting like a child, ran to the bathroom to check if he looked good enough to meet with Roger. His hair was in disarray after putting on the shirt and he combed it again, and then he remembered to put on some of that apple-scented cologne his lover had given him some weeks ago; the same he always wore. With trembling fingers, he fastened the Rolex President around his wrist and tied the jersey around his shoulders.

Still smiling, he pushed the elevator call button, only to remember that, “Educated people don't smile like dodos, Konrad.” He regained his composure and serious air, straightening his back just before the elevator's door opened.

'How can dodos smile if they have beaks?' Konrad wondered as he bowed his head to the two ladies in flashy cocktail dresses that descended on his floor. 'Their hair is longer than their skirts. Don't they realise how ridiculous they look in those outfits? So much fabric in that puffed skirt, but all wrongly used. What a waste!' he thought, moving to one side of the corridor to let them pass.

He was almost bouncing on his feet when he reached the fourth floor and knocked twice on the wooden door.

“Ah, it's you already,” Roger said nonchalantly and moved aside to allow him to enter. He was still dressed from work and had not bothered to change himself. After all, it was just dinner and sex, not a date. “I have company so you'll have to be fast.”

Konrad felt his blood boil at those words but did his best to keep his cool, feigning an air of aloofness before the older man. “Do I get the first or the second shift, Roger?”

“That depends on him. He's tired and sleeping.”

“Do you have a man in here?” Konrad's temper surfaced. “This is too much!”

“Sure, why not?” Roger challenged him defiantly. “He sucks quite strongly.”

“You're a whore, Roger. Good only for the bed.”

“Well, you need someone to tell you what to do once you are there. You are simply clueless. Do you have blood running through your veins, German? Or is it too diluted with cheap beer?”

“I don't know why I waste my time with you,” Konrad growled and turned to leave. “A whore is cheaper and less complicated than you!”

“A whore has clear working hours and doesn't have to look after his nephew,” Roger said very amused at the other's explosion. 'Lord, how childish can he be? A tantrum after just one joke?'

“What?”

“You should see him with a bottle. Nothing left after fifteen minutes, but that's too long for you, n'est-ce pas, mon lapin?” Roger taunted him with evident satisfaction in his voice.

“I don't understand,” Konrad stammered, uncertain of the game his lover had devised now. He truly hated it when Roger played with him like when the older boys played with you: you got all the blows while they got all the fun.

“My brother Jerôme left his baby with me. He's gone to Geneva, and Angelique, the governess, stood him up at the last minute. The baby's sleeping in his basket after drinking a full bottle. Don't worry, Jerôme changed him before he left. He will pick him up tomorrow morning.”

“Is he staying here? With us?” Konrad asked in shock.

“He's staying with me. Don't worry, he was baptised last December. No danger of demon transfer in case he bites you,” he smirked. “You can stay too, or go home. I have enough with one baby, Konrad.”

Konrad glared at Roger, but the other only had to raise an eyebrow defiantly, and the younger man was lost once more in those bluish-grey eyes. “Guntram sleeps very deeply once he drinks his bottle. An easy to deal with little fellow.”

“Must come from his mother's side,” Konrad growled. “How old is he?”

“Hard to tell,” Roger said, and the other man looked at him in disbelief. “He was born in New York on October 19^th, but he arrived very early, on his seventh month. His mother almost miscarried him during the flight over there. My brother brought him home on December for his baptism, after he was released from the hospital. He was very small, indeed, and probably will be an idiot. All premature babies are weak and retarded.”

“That's not true!”

“They're not fully formed when they come out. His mother died in childbirth as she had a heart condition. Still, my brother insisted on marrying her. Papa was furious with him, but he calmed down a bit after seeing Guntram.”

“I had no idea. Who was she?”

“Not from our entourage. A half-breed, if I remember correctly. An artist my brother saw on the streets; good for a mistress, but not for a wife. Impossible choice! But Jerôme has always had such strange ideas.”

“I've never met him. No, I think I did, but I don't remember him.”

“You miss nothing. My brother is the dullest person to walk this earth. Imagine: a corporate lawyer. My father is funnier than him!”

“I find that hard to believe,” Konrad chuckled, the image of the stern Vicomte flashing through his mind. 'The old creep hates me, and he would have preferred my cousin Georg over me.'

“Do you want to meet him?” Roger asked casually after deep kissing Konrad to distract him from his brooding over the forthcoming meeting.

“Your brother? No, thank you.”

“The baby. You're stuck with him too,” Roger huffed upset at his lover's lack of attention.

“No, you're stuck with him. I have no idea about babies. There are nannies for that.”

“They want long-term working contracts now, and you can't get one at such a short notice. Dealing with the service is a nightmare nowadays.”

“Don't tell me,” Konrad mumbled, still thinking about the meeting. “You change him if something happens. Take him to my rooms.”

“Apologize first.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You called me ‘whore’ twice,” Roger reminded him sweetly. “If you need one, go downstairs to the bar.”

“Roger, your reputation precedes you,” Konrad answered hotly. “Three weeks ago you disappeared with a brunette and stood me up.”

“So? Did I call you names?”

“You have no shame!”

“If you can't keep your date interested, don't come to me crying. You know what? Go home, learn a few things, and come back in, let's say, four of five years, when you have grown up,” Roger said disdainfully. “Little boys are hot when you're over forty, but before that they're a nuisance, clinging to your arm and crying for the slightest things. Good night.”

He opened the door for Konrad.

The younger man just stood there, bewildered and transfixed. Was Roger throwing him out? After all that he had risked for this relationship? The room seemed to shrink and swayed dangerously around him, like a wild boat. It was always like this with Roger. Things felt wild and out of control, following none of the codes he had learned over the years, codes that he relied on to understand the rest of mankind. One night with Roger was like a walk on the wild side. His intelligence, wealth, and position were worth nothing before the other man's eyes. He felt exposed and lost in front of him, but the desire to conquer that mountain too was too strong for him to cast aside.

“Go home, Konrad. It's well past your bedtime,” Roger said tiredly.

“I apologize for my words. My behaviour was inexcusable, Roger,” Konrad said with great dignity, his head held high, his steel blue eyes fixed on the adorable grey ones that matched with the dark brown hair he loved so much to pet in the aftermath of their love-making.

“Good Lord! Can't you say something normal? We are not in the headmaster's office!” Roger sneered. “All right, you're a hopeless case. Did you even go out when you were seventeen?”

“Of course I did! With Ferdinand and Albert!”

“I can imagine that,” the other chortled. “Popcorn and Star Wars. Maybe buying a pack of cigarettes. I bet you’ve never smoked grass. Have you ever met a dealer?”

'If you had the slightest idea of what we are up to these days, you wouldn't joke so much about our customers. They are our true strength, clever and aggressive businessmen, merciless but with honour. We have to recover somehow all that wealth that some idiots throw to the streets. Billions of dollars that leave the circuit to gather dust in cardboard boxes. It's the solution to leave behind this recession and to create an economic boost like never before. What's dragging us down are the old industrialization patterns. Why can't some people understand that one million dollars given to someone with a clever technological idea is better than to bury fifty million investing in an old factory? Technology is the future, and we have to copy here the Silicon Valley model. Capital is not the key factor any longer. Two men in a garage can create an empire, and we are still arguing over size and monolithic structures.'

“I had marijuana once or twice, but it made me nauseous. Cocaine twice, but it wasn't as good as they told me, so I dropped it. Never rode a dragon or tried pills as you can't be sure about their provenance. Tell me, did you participate in the issuance of shares for the London-based company as I told you to?”

“You're throwing your money in the trash, Konrad. Four million pounds invested in a small thing that only produces software! Computers are very expensive and no one uses them!”

“Did you?”

“Yes, of course. You're the proud owner of 67% of a nerds club called Shock Software Solutions.”

“Good,” Konrad mumbled, thinking that it would be a good idea to speak with their main programmer. After all, he was in charge of designing most of the software to handle banking transactions. 'I have to tell Erika to make me an appointment with them; this TCP-IP protocol sounds intriguing and we have to control it. Arpanet could mean a breakthrough once it leaves the sphere of the American Defence Department. What they showed me of data transfers between Stanford and the University College London is very impressive. Just imagine, being able to trade the whole day, no more boundaries or borders between markets. We have walked a long way since Enigma. I need some advisers on the new technologies because I have little knowledge about physics or engineering.'

“Suit yourself,” Roger mumbled, disgruntled that once again Konrad had his head lost in his own personal cloud, thinking who knows what. 'I've never seen anyone with less knowledge of human relations than him in my entire life. They're going to eat him alive at the meeting.'

“Sorry?” Konrad said coming back to the present. 'Yes, IBM is the future, and this Apple—what kind of name is that for a company?—looks very promising indeed. Different conceptions, but both are valid and targeted towards the people. Personal computers are going to take the world by storm. If we could just interconnect them, the world would change radically.'

“You are not paying attention to me. Again. Do you want to have dinner here or in your room? Guntram will wake up in an hour or two.” Roger huffed.

“No, let's go to my room. He can use the small bedroom and we can order something,” Konrad said, now thinking if they should refinance or not the large debts a coal mining company had with the bank. Without waiting for Roger, Konrad left the room and walked across the corridor to call the elevator, leaving the other man to gather all of his nephew's belongings on his own.

Roger sighed. 'He's as crazy as you can be, and he has no idea of where he's standing. His big plan consists of a few nerds and some Third World countries? Papa and the other associates will eat him alive. He should make friends with Jerôme, and both can join Greenpeace. Windmills and solar panels, really! He's unfit to be the Hochmeister. His father was much cleverer and knew how to get capital instead of spending it on windmills. He was not even able to secure those State contracts for Sturzenegger! It would have only taken him a call to bribe someone willing to be bribed and then charge the man for it via interests, but no, Mr. Code of Business Ethics had to say that Sturzenegger was amateurish and that his company needed a complete makeover.'

Roger entered the bedroom where his nephew was soundly asleep in his bassinet; his tiny hands were placed on both sides of his head, his hair crowned with a mop of platinum blond. 'Where did you get such colour? The rest of the family has much darker hair. And you're certainly tiny for your age. Your teddy bear is bigger than you. At least you're peaceful, nothing like Pascal's girls or my own baby girl. Jerôme will not have much trouble with you.'

Carefully, he took the baby's bassinet and hoisted the large bag containing all of the baby’s belongings over his shoulder. 'Sleeps like a log. Good for him.'

Konrad kept the elevator's door open so that Roger could enter, and glanced at the sleeping baby without much interest. 'When was he baptised and presented to the Order? I had no idea of his existence, at all.'

“What did you say his name was, Roger?” he asked.

“Guntram Philippe Alphonse de Lisle Guttenberg Sachsen, my Griffin,” he answered jokingly, showing the baby to him.

“It is a good old name. I hope he serves us well. God be with you, brother,” Konrad said to the baby.

“Should you not wait a few years before you say something like that to him?” Roger sneered shaking his head disapprovingly. He left the elevator and walked towards the well-known room.

“The sooner he learns his place, the better for him. People no longer know their places, and that is when troubles start,” Konrad said darkly, opening the door and pushing it to let the other enter first. He watched how Roger walked to the dining table and set the bassinet there with a murmured, “Just stay here, little man.”

“How old is he?” Konrad asked, approaching to take a better look at the baby.

“Almost five months.”

“He's small for his age.”

“That comes from your broad experience with babies?” Roger joked, and the other looked at him crossed, tired of the constant patronizing tone he had been subjected to since his becoming Hochmeister in 1981. “No, you're right,” Roger relented. “He's small, but he was born just on the borderline, at 30 weeks, and weighing less than two kilos. He will catch up later. We hope he's not stupid or something like that. After all, he's the first de Lisle boy in this generation.”

“He will be fine, like most babies,” said Konrad, and the baby opened his big blue eyes without crying at the unknown voice that woke him up. “He's up. I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry. Toy or bottle, and back to sleep he goes,” Roger said nonchalantly, smiling a bit at his nephew who mirrored the smile, laughing a bit in a happy way.

“He's very sociable,” said Konrad, while the other attempted to convince the boy to take the teddy bear, but Guntram was more interested in seeing the stranger. The baby smiled, trying to entice the tall man to pick him up, but the blond kept his distance.

“Smiles at this age are automatic reflexes. It means nothing. Babies do it so you don't kill them for keeping you up the whole night,” Roger said dispassionately. “Come on, Guntram. You behaved very well the whole afternoon at work. Don't become difficult now.”

“He's certainly cute. Does he cry a lot?”

“I have not heard him become upset so far. Jerôme and Angelique know exactly what he wants, even if he doesn’t cry. The weekend they were at St. Cyr we never even heard him. Papa was very impressed. He likes to be carried, though. I'll try with a bottle, now.”

“Why? He's not crying. Maybe he wants company. It must be boring to lie on your back the whole day. Leave him on the carpet and see what he does.”

“He does not crawl yet. Only tries to roll around. Take him while I order dinner. The usual?”

“Yes, of course,” Konrad said, and Roger vanished before he could refuse. “Hold the head well!” he heard from the bedroom, and his heart nearly stopped. 'Is he serious about me holding the baby?'

“Don't you dare to pee on your Hochmeister,” he warned the infant with more vigour than he really felt. “Wait until you turn thirty.”

“Did you say something?” Roger asked from the other room, and Konrad blushed at being caught speaking to a baby.

“Nothing. Are the diapers waterproof?” he asked casually.

“Time to find out, my Griffin.”

'How does Ferdinand do it...? Ah, yes, the head in the right hand, the left hand on the backside, and you cuddle them and pray they don't throw up on you.' “All right, don't complain because I've only done this once and nearly dropped the baby then,” he told the giggling baby who was extending his tiny arms towards him, more than ready to be picked up.

Much to his surprise, the baby nestled against his chest and continued to look up at him, smiling and not wiggling much. 'Thank you,' Konrad prayed inwardly and focused his attention on the small thing in his arms, taking in his soft features and big blue eyes. He touched the point of the baby's nose, who found it very funny and laughed even more. 'Your father won't have to spend much on toys for you,' he thought, and rocked him a bit.

The baby was fascinating for the young man. 'One day I will have to get one or two,' he thought darkly as he looked at the baby. 'I can't. I just can't do it. I don't trust women, and I can't imagine myself tied to one for the rest of my life. Albert plans to marry soon, and Ferdinand's life is simply miserable with Gertrud. She is always criticizing him because he does not want to leave the Army. Löwenstein pressures me to marry one of his daughters or nieces, and that is impossible! How do I tell her that I am in love with another man?'

The soft cooing from the baby took him out of his depressing thoughts, and he smiled back at the infant.

“Lucky you, you still have twenty-five years of freedom ahead of you. Enjoy them. Come, I'll show you the city and the hot spots,” he said rising from the chair and walking towards the large French window.

* * *

Roger did his best to stifle a yawn. Konrad had been speaking non-stop about Indonesia for the last twenty minutes, and he had lost interest after the first five. 'He can be so boring!'

The French put on his best face and let the other keep speaking while he considered whether or not to call Geraldine, the hot new secretary in the risk analysis department. Fortunately, Guntram started to make some noises from his basket, and Konrad almost ran to check what was wrong with the baby. 'At least he's good as a nanny. Let's see if we can do something good today or if I am going to fall asleep right on top of him.'

“I think he is hungry now.” Konrad announced. “Don't you have to go home?”

“Maria Augusta is gone for the weekend with our daughter, so I'm free. My brother will pick Guntram up tomorrow morning at CDG.”

“At the airport?”

“Yes. He’ll drive from there to Lille so that his wife's aunts can see Guntram. I think he wants to leave him there. He has no time for him and doesn't know what to do with him.”

“Why don't you or Pascal take him for a while? Who's the godfather?”

“I am, but my wife has enough work with our own child. She's two years old and very demanding. The last thing I need in my life is to have to take care of a crying baby just because my brother is mourning his wife! It's his fault that she's dead, and he should just suck it up.”

“How can you be so cold, Roger?”

“Why did he travel to New York with his pregnant wife? She went there and almost miscarried the baby on the Concord! It's his own fault, and he should face it instead of crying about it! Besides, Angelique is fine for taking care of Guntram.”

'You certainly have no luck with your family, Guntram. Poor little thing.' Konrad thought, but kept himself silent. 'It's none of my business, and he won't be the first child to be parked with a nanny. I had several before Friederich.'

He picked up the boy and asked if his bottle was ready.

'It's not as hard as it seems,' Konrad considered while the baby drank his milk, sucking very strongly from the bottle's teat. 'He's really making up for lost time.' Then, the infant fell asleep in the middle of the exercise without any kind of warning.

“Time to play uncle, Roger,” said Konrad gesturing for him to take back the baby. “I think he needs to be changed, and you are the qualified and responsible person here.”

“Are you sure you don't want to play house a little longer?” Roger said with a raspy and sexy voice, exactly as he knew drove Konrad mad with desire, enjoying how the other shuddered unwillingly.

“No.”

There were limits to what Roger could do to him. He handed the sleeping baby back to his lover and returned to finish his dinner while the other huffed and went into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

'There are limits in this life, Roger. I will not take all of your crap no matter how much I love you.'

* * *

Konrad had entertained himself for a while reading some papers from work but he was already feeling the urge in his nether regions; the thrill of the sexual dance and the final conquest of his lover. Bedding Roger was like bedding a black panther. No other sexual partner, male or female, had ever provided him with such maddening pleasure. 'He's like a Greek god, and he feels incredible when he's under me. If he were just a little less pushy, we could have a great time together.'

“Guntram sleeps like a rock,” Roger announced, closing very softly the door to the bedroom where he had left the baby. “Only one bed free,” he whispered with mock sadness.

“So, nothing too wild tonight,” Konrad said dragging the words and leaving the papers aside to gauge the mood of his prey. Safe? Wild? Playful? Little lamb? One could never know with Roger.

“So, something simple tonight,” Roger answered as his fingers removed the black tie around his neck. “Do you have another tie here?” he asked with a malicious smile.

“I have several and you know it,” Konrad replied, rising from his chair to meet his lover in the middle of the room, “but I thought you wanted to play house tonight.”

“You'd be surprised at all the things you can do in a little house, lapin,” Roger breathed on Konrad's ear, having to stand on his tiptoes to reach the very tall man, and he laced his hands around his lover’s neck. He kissed Konrad delicately, as if he were asking permission for what he was about to take and receive. He was well aware of his lover's ‘protocol’ in the bedroom. 'Hochmeister even in bed. You can't jump his bones even if he's on fire. He needs to be in control at all times.'

Konrad’s answer was a brutal assault of Roger’s lips while he fisted his hair to have better control and access to the mouth that drove him mad, revelling in the power he had over his lover. Without interrupting the devouring kiss, he pushed and cornered Roger against the wall. Ignoring the other's whimper when his back hit the convoluted golden mouldings, and using all of his weight to secure his pray, he almost brutally pushed his lover’s legs apart to nest his manhood on Roger's groin, slightly rising him over his hips to compensate for the height difference.

Roger once more felt his coherence vanish when the younger man's lips touched the skin of his neck, and nibbled, and even bit him, with passion. “Hold on. No bites or I'll get in trouble with my wife,” he whispered, and Konrad stopped, upset at being reminded once more of their situation.

His fingers tore the other's soft shirt without much care to reveal a well-defined torso. Slender but manly, as he liked his lovers to look their gender; nothing feminine looking as it was so fashionable nowadays. Men who looked like men and kissed as such. If he wanted a woman, he could have one and be done with it. He crouched in front of Roger, who panted from pleasure as Konrad took one of his nipples in his mouth and circled it with his tongue, playing with the sensitive skin and sucking it while his fingers removed the other man’s leather belt and tossed it aside.

Konrad went down on his knees, taking his lover's member into his mouth to swallow it, pleased to see how Roger lost his uptight airs when he was at his mercy. His tongue played with the tip while his hand massaged the base with long strokes and strong circling moves, enjoying his lover's efforts to keep himself under control and make it last. As abruptly as he had started, Konrad stopped and moved backwards to eye the man half lost in his own cloud of lust.

“What now?” Roger grunted.

“Bed. On all fours. You like it hard, don't you?”

“Hard it is, Konrad. Hope you are up to it,” Roger answered, his eyes adopting a darker shade, while his body passed next to Konrad's like a swaying snake, leaving a trail behind him of his remaining clothes.

'Of course I am up for it, Roger. Good thing your wife is away for the weekend,' Konrad thought, ready for a battle in the bedroom. 'I could never have so much fun with a woman. They're not like us.' He mimicked his lover's moves, undressing himself on his way to the large bed and closing the door behind him.

“Come over here and let me see what you have,” Roger said and jerked Konrad over by the neck to kiss him brutally.

Konrad once more settled his weight over Roger and renewed his kisses as his hand took the other man’s penis to continue with his heavy petting, making Roger gasp in pleasure.

“Let's fuck now,” he heard Roger breathe raggedly.

“Not yet, I have done all the work tonight and you have done nothing.”

“All right,” said a slightly angered Roger, pushing the man away from him to rummage on the bedside table for a condom and lube. He tore the package with his teeth and put it on his partner’s erect member, sliding it on with his mouth and smiling knowingly at Konrad's gasp. “I'll show you something so you're not so narrow-minded in the future,” he added playfully.

Konrad closed his eyes, revelling on the feeling of being brought to the brink several times by Roger's expert mouth. 'I never had it so good as with him.' Instead of feeling tenser, as another man would, Konrad found oral sex to be very relaxing, and his hips would lazily follow Roger's mouth whenever the man stopped his ministrations to build up the moment or changed the rhythm. He let himself be lulled by the pleasurable sensations until his lover inserted a lubricated finger inside of him.

Konrad pushed him away forcefully and Roger fell from the bed with the blow's momentum.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” the German roared, and the other just looked up at him in disbelief, not having the presence of mind to pick himself up from the floor.

“Showing you how good it can be. Just relax and you'll see. You can't be such a brute!”

“I'm not doing this!”

“So I always have to do it for you? Always on top, Lintorff? Well, it doesn't work like that. It's two people doing it, not one.”

“You are perfectly aware that I don't do that. I have always been clear in that sense!”

“Yes, I forgot we had signed a contract. I bottom for you, you suck me.” Roger said sarcastically. “Look, this is not working for either of us. I'm going home,” he said furious, standing up and searching for his clothes. “Learn to share and maybe someone could stand you! You are impossible!”

“Roger, wait.”

“I'm sick of waiting! We have been together for almost two years, and it's always the same story: fucking in a five-star hotel, asking for separate rooms and then sneaking myself into yours when your bodyguards are playing cards! In the meantime, I have to deal with your demands at the bank! I'm sick of all this!” Roger roared.

“I treat you exactly as I treat all my employees,” reasoned Konrad.

“Exactly! But as far as I know, you don't fuck your secretary or your other traders!”

“Of course I don't. I love you!”

“No, you don't! I'm just a toy for you! I'm risking my marriage and my position for you! Who is going to pay the price if we are discovered? You? No, I will! I hate you for making me do this!” Roger shouted out of himself and attempted to punch Konrad in the face. The Griffin caught the fist in mid-air and pushed his lover away.

“Don't try it, Roger. You don't stand a chance against me,” Konrad growled.

“Sure, I don’t! You train everyday with those assassins! How crazy are you?”

“It's very good for me,” he said in a feral way, making Roger lose his bravado. 'He's crazier than anyone believes!'

“Come over here, Roger. Did I hurt you?” Konrad asked softly. “I didn't mean to. I'm under considerable pressure these days, and you know it.” He walked around the bed and took his lover by the waist, caressing his hair and kissing his lips to appease him. “I'm sorry, kitten. I'll make it up to you,” he added with a kiss to the forehead.

Roger took several breaths before letting his anger go. It was always the same routine. They would fight over a lover, work, money—anything—, and Konrad would react rather strongly to later feel very ashamed of his deeds. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the comfort being offered by the large man-boy whispering words of love in his ear. “I have also a lot of stress, Konrad,” Roger finally said in a quivering voice.

“Tell me, kitten.”

“At the bank, with the new operations manager. He says that my ratios are just on the limit and that I need to trade more to increase the bank’s commissions. I lost almost two weeks with the purchase of that software company you wanted, so this month I'm going to be well below the minimum standard. I don't want to face a reprimand that could ruin my worksheet. I've been trying to recover the lost time, but there is no way I'll make it. I can certainly kiss good-bye to my bonus for this year. Maria Augusta was counting on it.”

Konrad felt his fury rise when he realized that he had been trapped once more in one of Roger's schemes. 'At least this time he is not asking me to write off the debts of one of his father's friends.' “I am sorry for your problems, Roger, but I paid the commissions you asked of me. I requested no special treatment from you.”

“I lost two big clients because I was away dealing with your nerds! I got you a significant reduction in the final price!”

'Yes, that's right, but he should know how to deal with me and two customers,' thought Konrad but did not say it. Instead he said, “Maybe I could give you some sort of compensation. How big were your clients?”

“About twelve million Deutsche Marks both of them. They now prefer another trader!”

“What about if I increase my position by fifteen million Deutsche Marks? Will that be enough?” Konrad said, stressing the word “enough”. “Trade with them as much as you want, but don't lose them.”

“That would be great! Thank you so much!” Roger kissed Konrad on the lips, who was crossed at the idea of having to move some funds around so Roger could trade, and most certainly lose, some of the operations into his own accounts. 'Oldest trick in trading business: use the client's capital to your benefit.’

As the kisses continued, Konrad felt his anger fade, his attention returning to the original plan of the evening.

Roger took him by the hand and pulled him back to the bed, removing the covers and slipping inside. 'Now you play the kitten because you know I'm on my limit and I hate all that stupid gymnastics you love so much in bed. I know you very well, Roger, but I couldn't change you for another,' Konrad evaluated as he watched the other man go under the covers and lie on the pillows.

“Come here, mon lapin,” Roger said seductively. “Let's do not spend a wonderful night arguing about nothing.”

“You drive me mad, Roger.”

“That's because I love you and you love me.”

“Really?” Konrad asked hopefully.

“Yes, I do. Viens ici, mon lapin,” Roger kissed the young man when he joined him in the huge bed. “I may be with many, but I’ll always come back to you. There's no one that could compare to you,” he whispered in his boyfriend's ear. “J'adore quand tu me prends dans tes bras,” he whispered seductively; and strangely he did, he liked the feeling of being held in the other man’s arms.”

“Tu me rends fou,” Konrad repeated, before plunging into the nothingness that Roger's kisses always dragged him into. 'If he were just a little more truthful with me, I would be the happiest man in the world. One day.'

Their kisses became urgent, passionate, and Konrad placed himself on top of Roger’s pelvis glad that his lover had acquiesced to do it ‘the normal way’, rocking their manhoods together to relight the fire. Their breathing sped up to the point of panting, and Konrad penetrated Roger with care, doing his best not to hurt him. He let Roger establish the pace once he was inside of him, kissing his lover's neck to show him how much he loved him.

* * *

“Can you do a second round?” Roger trailed his finger, drawing imaginary circles on Konrad's chest not thirty minutes after they had climaxed together.

“Even a third, if you're up to it.” 'That's what I love the best about him: he never has enough.'

“We'll see, big boy,” Roger answered, dragging out the last word as he knew Konrad hated to be called that. The next instant, Roger felt his legs being wrapped around a broad shoulder as Konrad penetrated him in one swift move, the younger man enjoying the feeling of being sucked into the other’s warmth too much to move slowly. He pounded into his lover without caring much about Roger's comfort on this occasion. 'If the first time is soft and sweet, the second has to be wild,' he remembered.

His pleasure increased when he heard the moans from his companion, and Konrad nearly went mad with desire and lust for Roger, his strong hand tightly gripping the member touching his stomach, almost burning him in its need. When Konrad felt himself on the edge, he disentangled himself from the smaller body and almost forcibly turned him around to achieve deeper penetration, firmly taking the man by the hips to secure his mount, exactly as Roger loved it.

Konrad set a quick pace and the sounds coming from his lover told him that he was also enjoying it, but no matter how much he tried to prolong the exquisite agony, he could not. He finally depleted himself into his lover with a deafening groan.

“Lord, you do know how to fuck now, Konrad,” Roger panted, almost dead from the effort, caressing the younger man's head lying on his chest. “Makes me almost want a third one,” he joked.

“Give me an hour and you'll see, my love,” Konrad chuckled, happy that the other sounded so satisfied. Pleasing Roger was always hard, but the reward was always worth it. Perhaps this time he would be happy and quiet for a week, and would only fulfil his duties towards his wife instead of running after customers, secretaries or other traders. 'Why is he so darn sexy? Why does everybody need to jump him? Why can't he be happy with only me?'

“Only an hour? I need more time, lapin,” Roger chuckled, kissing Konrad on the forehead and listening to how the other purred under his kisses. “Well, if it's as good as this was, I can wait. You know I love you, Konrad.”

“Roger, you are the most important thing in my life. I can't live without you.”

“Konrad, you know this will not last.”

“How can you say that?” Konrad shouted desperate. “I do love you. Don't I do whatever you want?”

“Lapin, you will have to marry soon, raise a family of your own, and this will be over. This is nothing more than an adventure for us. What would happen if we were discovered? Would you risk everything we have just for this?”

'Of course, I would! You're the first person who liked me for myself. You don't flatter me like the others. You really treat me as your equal,' Konrad thought but remained silent, turning around in the bed to go to sleep.

“Come on, Konrad. Don't get mad and behave like a child. You know you have to marry soon. You're twenty-five. I married at that age, too. Why don't you consider Maria Augusta's cousin? She's relatively good-looking and kind. She will give no you problems at all and will look after your children. Take the Prince's advice on this.”

“I will not marry a woman,” Konrad grunted. “Much less settle for an arranged marriage. Look at my father. His life was pure hell only because he married the princess he was ordered to! And it was I the one who paid for my mother's hatred towards my father! Women are treacherous, calculating and vengeful creatures. Good for fucking only! I will have my children with one, but I will not share my life with any of them. I will adopt my own baby if I have to!”

“Don't get so upset, Konrad. I was only suggesting you the best course of action. She's the best candidate for us. She wouldn't get in the middle. Maria Augusta doesn't care what I do as long as I'm home at eight and take care of our daughter. Her cousin is a good and pious woman.”

“You're asking me to marry a nun!”

“Well, your wife can't be a crazy whore.”

“I won't! Get that into your head!”

“We have to find a way for you to secure the succession. A man in our position is nothing without children. Even my brother got his heir! This woman will leave us alone, and we could love each other as much as we want.”

“No, and that is final, Roger,” Konrad said firmly.

'I have to convince him to marry that cow of Hildegard. If I do so, he could name me the Consort without arising any problems or suspicions.'

* * *

Konrad woke up, unsure of what had disturbed his sleep, and sat on the bed to see that Roger was deeply asleep. He shook him awake. “I think the baby is up.”

“Rule number one of parenthood: the one who hears the baby, goes,” Roger mumbled and went back to sleep.

Huffing, Konrad left the warm bed, shuddering a bit in the cold air before dressing himself in a robe. Doing his best to be quiet, he crossed the living room to open the door of the other bedroom and switched on a light, expecting the baby to burst into tears, but Guntram only cooed happily from his basket.

“Are you awake at this hour?” Konrad asked the baby softly. “All alone in the darkness and you don't cry? Brave little fellow.” He picked up the baby—more confident than before—, and went to Roger for advice.

“I think he's hungry. He’s not crying, but it's been more than five hours since he had anything,” Konrad explained the situation.

“Was he yelling?”

“No, he was laughing and making soft noises.”

“Then he isn't really hungry. Babies cry like crazy when they are.”

“Should we not give him something?” pressed Konrad.

“All right, try your luck with a bottle.”

“I have no idea how to make one!” Konrad shouted, and then had to shush the startled baby.

“Didn't you tell me not two hours ago that you wanted to be a single father? Well, start to practice. Get some hot water, fill with it one of his clean bottles up to the 150 millilitres mark and add five spoonfuls of powdered milk. Shake it well and check if it's not too hot.”

“That's all?”

“You can change his diaper if you want.”

“No, thank you.” Konrad grimaced and left the room with the baby still in his arms. 'Next time, Guntram, bring your nanny along. She is most welcome.'

Doing his best not to drop the baby or the bottle, he managed to pour the hot water and prepare the milk under Guntram’s scrutinizing blue gaze. “I am a banker, not a nanny, so this is the best you will get from me,” he told the baby before feeding him his bottle.

Once Guntram had finished his milk, he smiled again and fixed his eyes on the stranger, who smiled at him in return. “You don't cry like most babies do, do you? If I ever have a child, I would want him to be like you. Your father must be very proud of you.

“… Who am I kidding? If I ever get a son, he will be exactly as I am. Nothing nearly as peaceful or even-tempered as you are. Compared to your uncle Roger, you are a very sweet little thing. Don't ever change. All right, time to go back to your own bed. I have to check some numbers and entertain your uncle.”

* * *

Roger was in bliss, surprised that Konrad had woken him up for a third round, but glad to respond to his kisses, and delighted that he had let him be on top, even if just for a brief moment.

Suddenly, he was pushed aside without any kind of ceremony as Konrad sat up on the bed. “If you don't like it, say so!” Roger roared, furious at his partner's attitude.

“Be quiet! I think I heard the baby!”

“Didn't you just give him a bottle?”

“Yes, I did, but maybe there is something wrong with him,” Konrad whispered, angered at Roger's insensibility. “He could be sick!”

“Babies cry for no reason! Let him be! I don't hear him!”

“He has something! He is not a crybaby!”

“Fine, spend the rest of the night in his room! I've had enough of you!”

“Very well, Roger,” Konrad said with great dignity leaving the bed to get his clothes and went away.

Still upset and grumbling about in the middle of the living room, he redressed and picked up his briefcase before going to check once more on the baby and find out why he was complaining so much.

“Well, if you kick your covers away like that, they will not come back to you,” Konrad explained softly when he found the baby furiously kicking in his cot and slightly shivering from the cold. 'Five-star hotels are overrated. The heating isn't good tonight.'

He covered the infant again and looked at him, hearing his soft but urgent grunts. “You just had a bottle and you don't smell. Please, don't tell me it's the diaper. There's no way I will change it. But if you kick so much, maybe it is full.” His hand approached to the baby but stopped mid-air.

'No, I can't. I'm not ready to be a father.' “Roger!” he shouted. 'Time to use my influence. Besides, he's the uncle, not I.'

“What is it now?” Roger came hurrying, concerned that Guntram might be sick.

“Diaper is full. Change him,” Konrad said with great poise.

“Is that all?” he asked in disbelief.

“He is part of your line. Fulfil your duties.” The stern expression of his eyes foretold nothing good.

“Are you giving me the Griffin's speech?” Roger snorted.

“If you ever use that tone with me again, you will find out how it is to be on the Griffin's wrong side,” he said in a low voice. “You are responsible for your house. Do your task.”

“Very well!” Roger huffed and picked up the baby, noticing that the diaper was really full, and left the room like a fury.

Some minutes later, Roger returned to find Konrad sitting on the couch and reading his papers. “Go back to bed, Roger,” he said without lifting his eyes from the documents, and Roger decided to comply in order to avoid a fight.

Konrad heard the baby again and left what he was doing to check on him. “Be quiet, you. I have to think.” He smiled at the adorable sight. “Do you know anything about swaps?” The baby cooed, almost making Konrad laugh and partially dissolving his anger towards the Frankfurt office. “No, I imagine not. Here, take your teething ring and your rattle. You know what to do with them.” He shook the colourful thing in front of the baby's eyes and watched Guntram grab it with his tiny hands. “Are you sure about the swaps? I could use some advice.”

Laughing at himself, but relieved to have finally spoken his mind with someone, even if only a baby, Konrad returned to the sofa to continue reading as the sun came up on the horizon.

* * *

Roger was still a bit cross with his lover. As usual, Konrad had left bed at five o'clock in the morning to begin working, and showed no interest in returning to him, favouring instead his adored banks. 'And he wonders why I have an adventure every now and then. Well, time to call the answering service. Maybe Maria Augusta needs something. After all, she's alone with the baby.'

He frowned when the service's secretary told him that his wife had called last night to say that her mother wanted to see him too in Vienna for her wedding anniversary. 'Bloody witch, but if I don't show up, I'll have her breathing down my neck for the rest of the year.' Roger dialled Air France's number and booked a flight at 11:45 a.m. before realizing that Jerôme was not returning from Geneva until 12:30 p.m. Not only that, but his own nanny was away for the weekend, along with the rest of his service, and he had no one else that could take care of his nephew.

'Well, Konrad, time to play father for an hour. Didn't you want a baby? Here is one, and he's very nice compared to what I have at home.'

Roger left the bed and redressed himself, realizing that he would have to rush home and change into something informal, pick up another suit for the evening and more clothes for the next day, and it was already 8:35 a.m. Almost running, he went into the living room to find Konrad engulfed in his papers and checking some numbers with a calculator at his side. The baby was lying on the carpet in front of him, wriggling his feet, happy to be out of the bassinet.

“I have to go now.”

“All right. The people in Frankfurt will hear me on Monday. This is outrageous!”

“Why is the baby on the floor?”

“I set him free. He had already breakfast and he can roll around very fast. Do they think I am an idiot? What was Lindberg thinking? No, he was not thinking, he was cheating on me! On Monday he and all his friends are out!”

“Are you going to fire your CEO?”

“Not mine, my father's. He had two years to prove his allegiance to me. He's robbing me. People mistake young age for stupidity.”

“Konrad, you can't fire him! He has been with you for more than fifteen years!”

“Then he had enough time to learn how to do his job. He's out and will never work in a bank for as long as I live,” Konrad said clearly, looking at Roger with the coldest eyes he had ever seen. “My tolerance levels decrease with each passing day, Roger.”

“I need to ask you a favour,” Roger gulped, but Konrad only looked at him and said nothing. “I have to fly to Vienna. Maria Augusta says her mother wants to see me. The flight is at 11:45 a.m.”

“Well, go then. I will fly to Frankfurt.”

“Jerôme arrives at 12:30 p.m. Can you take care of Guntram? I have no one else to ask this favour.”

“I am not qualified to look after a small child.”

“Please, Konrad. I have no one else and Guntram knows you! I don't want to deposit the baby in the VIP lounge till Jerôme arrives!”

“He's your nephew, not mine. It's too much of a responsibility for me.”

“Konrad, you guard other people's money, and this is only for a couple of hours till Jerôme returns. He will be very grateful to you. Come on, he's working extra time for you after all!”

“I didn't know I had started a day-care centre,” Konrad sneered, feeling a little guilty since Roger was in this mess as it had been him the one who had insisted on seeing each other that weekend, which had forced his lover to look for a lame excuse to avoid his mother-in-law.

“Please, Konrad. He's very happy with you, and he hasn't cried once,” Roger pleaded, pouting a bit. “I hate to do this to you, but I have no other choice.”

“I have no knowledge about babies!” Konrad said, but he didn't sound as convinced as before.

“You managed him fantastically last night. I'll leave him with a fresh diaper. Show him to one of the stewardesses, and they will melt and do the rest. Women just drool over him.”

“What will I tell your brother? That you walked into my office in New York and left the baby?”

“Konrad, Jerôme knows about us and will never say a word to Pascal or my father. He's the most discreet person in the world and very open-minded. Heck, he was casting stones at the police in May ‘68! He married an artist and lives in Montmartre! It would be good for us to have some allies. He can convince my father about almost anything.”

“No way, Roger.”

* * *

'Why does he always get me into such messes? I'm a total idiot!' Konrad thought as he looked down at the Moses basket he was holding while he did his best to balance the large bag included with the baby. 'Can you not travel lighter?'

“How do I explain to my men that I went in alone and came out with you, Guntram?” he asked the child, who only chortled leaving his teething ring for a minute just to smile at the tall man. “Don't waste your charms on me. Use them on a stewardess. You will need one soon.”

“If you have no logical explanation, give none. Just remember who you are, and everything will be accepted,” the magical words of wisdom from his father came to his mind. 'It's just Pavicevic, the younger, and Reiffen, not Uncle Hermann,' he told to himself to calm down.

* * *

The normally stoic and silent bodyguard, Stefan Pavicevic, never expected to see the young Duke carrying a bassinet, occupied at that, while walking like king across the luxurious hotel foyer towards the entrance. Pavicevic elbowed his comrade and both men dashed towards the exit to meet their superior.

“Do you know anything about infants, Pavicevic?” Konrad said before the men could pose any troublesome question to him.

“I have two sons, my Griffin. Goran and Pavel.”

“Excellent, take this one,” Konrad said and passed him the bassinet without moving a single muscle of his face beyond those used for talking, while Reiffen looked transfixed on the whole exchange. “We drive to the airport now,” he added before entering the big limo, parked right in front of the hotel.

Pavicevic stood there, with the baby basket in his hands, and looked at the tiny, sleeping form within. 'Cute baby, just be quiet, please.' He recovered himself and approached the car, thinking that to put the baby in the trunk was unacceptable and that the front seat was too dangerous. He opened the rear passenger door opposite to the Duke's and sheepishly said, “Excuse me, my Griffin, but I have no place to put the baby but in here.”

“Very well, leave him here,” Konrad said without looking at the man, too busy with the portfolio he had found inside the car. “Get me a ticket to Frankfurt when we arrive, after one o'clock will do; you will accompany me. And tell the Summus Marescalus that I want to see him there tonight.”

“Very well, sir,” Pavicevic answered, setting down the basket on the seat with great care before walking to the passenger seat in the front. 'Is this one an heir? Why does he need to see my brother? If he is, the Duke was indeed fast to get one.' His mind was in turmoil, and he had to pinch his arm to avoid peering at his Duke over the rear-view mirror.

Sensing his men’s curiosity, Konrad decided to close the dark tinted divider window to get some privacy. Only then, he took another look at the sleeping boy. 'You're very peaceful, little one. Must come from the Guttenberg Sachsen's side. Good-looking and harmless people, according to my father. A good place to look for a wife, but they have nothing available at the moment.' “Do you have any aunts that I am unaware of? Your uncle is quite a handful,” he asked with a sneer.

Looking through the window at the landscape, he realised that Roger would be probably right now boarding his plane to Vienna.

'I can't let go of him. He's like a selfish child, but he’s a good person. If he were just braver and make a stand, we wouldn't be having any of these problems,' Konrad thought with a sigh. 'We love each other, so why do things have to be so complicated? I am not his first male lover, yet he keeps telling everyone that he favours women. “Sometimes I get a slut to keep up with the practice,” he told me just a month ago. Well, it doesn't make you less gay than before, Roger. Why are you so afraid? What is the worst thing that could happen? That your father shouts and disinherits you? A scandalous divorce? No one would dare to go against me, and I would protect you from your family. During the past two years, the Löwensteins have made more money than ever before, and we stand much better than when my father was alive. In a few years more, we will be able to present battle to anyone who dares to oppose us. I am here to stay, and everyone has a price. Your family just has to name it.'

“Always speak your mind to the people you trust, little one. It will save you a lot of headaches in the future,” Konrad said to the sleeping baby.

The car parked in one of the drop-off areas and one of the bodyguards from the second car ran to open the door for Konrad. He descended while one of his men took the baby and followed him into the large hall. Konrad walked to the Lufthansa desk where Pavicevic was already purchasing the tickets. “Sir, should I buy one for the child?”

“No, his father will pick him up at 12:30 p.m. in the VIP lounge. Tell one of the men to wait for him at the gate. He arrives from Geneva and the name is de Lisle,” Konrad said coldly, and Pavicevic only bowed his head, more confused than before.

As predicted, the young girl at the lounge reception almost threw herself over Guntram, gushing that he was the “cutest baby I've seen! How old is he? Hello, baby!” as she started to make faces at him, waking him up.

'Can't she speak one sentence at a time?' Konrad thought but said nothing at all. “I'm expecting his father, Jerôme de Lisle,” he said instead.

“Very well, sir.” The girl quickly returned to her professional ways. “Would you like to have a bottle for him?”

“Perhaps in half an hour, thank you,” he said and went to sit at the farthest place in the lounge, where he could have some privacy, while Pavicevic trotted after him carrying the baby.

* * *

“Are you Mr. de Lisle?” Reiffen asked very politely, stopping a man walking in a hurry down the arrival gate.

“Yes, I am,” said the medium-size man, inspecting the bodyguard from head to toes in a way that made the other stand straight, exactly as when the old Duke was around.

The man had elegant features and startling green, hypnotic eyes. He was dressed in a conservative dark business suit with a black tie, and on his lapel he wore an almost imperceptible golden brooch with a crenel cross that indicated he was a member from one of the oldest families in the Order.

“The Herzog von Wittstock asks if you could accompany me to the VIP lounge. Your son is with him,” Reiffen said very carefully as he didn't troubles with the elite.

If Jerôme de Lisle was surprised, he hid it very well. He only answered, “Lead the way, please,” and followed the man across the long corridors.

'I am going to kill Roger for transferring my son to Lintorff!' thought Jerôme, furious. 'First, he makes me fly to Geneva to fix one of his messes, and then he just hands Guntram over to Lintorff? He only had to take care of my baby for one night! How can he be so irresponsible? Did he dare to take my child to one of his adventures? He's dead!'

The lawyer entered the large saloon and quickly identified Lintorff's tall form in the farthest corner. He had picked up Guntram and was showing him the planes from one of the large windows overlooking the runways. Strangely, his baby seemed to be happy in the man's arms.

“Good day, my Griffin. My name is Jerôme de Lisle,” he said, interrupting the long explanation about aircrafts his son was getting in German. 'For a man who almost threw Roger to his bed, he's very nice to a baby. Odd.'

“You must be very proud of your son, Mr. de Lisle. He's a brave boy,” Konrad intoned seriously, but he didn't make a move to return the baby to his father, who had cried in happiness when he saw him.

“Indeed, sir. I thank you for your assistance today and I apologise for any inconvenience my son might have caused you. I was under the impression that my younger brother was looking after him.”

“He had to fly to Vienna. Family business.” 'Roger should do the explanation,' Konrad decided and continued with his update of the baby's doings. “Guntram has just taken another bottle,” the Duke said, returning—much to his chagrin—the giggling and excited baby to his father, who softly caressed his silken blond hair. “I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. de Lisle. Your wife must have been a wonderful woman to have such a baby.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jerôme answered curtly, feeling the familiar knot in his throat he experienced every time his Cécile was mentioned.

“Guntram has a very pleasant nature,” Konrad commented. “I have never met a baby as well-mannered as him.”

“Thank you, my Griffin. Good-bye.”

“Would you like to have lunch with me?”

“No, sire. Our paths split now,” Jerôme said harsher than intended. “My child has a long journey to Lille ahead of him, and I should start to drive before it gets late.”

“I understand,” Konrad said, very irked at the brutal rejection. 'I just was trying to make friends with him. Let's try once more, maybe he's shy. Roger told me he has been acting like a monk since his wife died.'

“Your brother and I share a special friendship, and he told me you were aware of it.”

“Since 1981, sir, but as I said to him, I prefer to keep myself apart from his affairs.”

“I understand you disapprove of it, then,” Konrad used a very soft voice.

“I am a free thinker, Monsieur. I am no one to judge you or my brother. Our Lord would not condemn you because of your choice of partner. He preached love and tolerance to our brothers. If my brother were a free man, I would have nothing to say. It would be something between you and our Lord. But he is married; he has taken the sacrament of marriage, and you are sullying it. You cannot defend our mother the Church and step on its sacraments. If you have some decency, and respect your vows as our Hochmeister, transfer those affections to someone else.” Jerôme said very seriously. “Come Guntram, we are going now,” he added, and picked up the basket and shoulder bag.

Konrad remained standing where he was for many a minute, his eyes fixed on the retreating figure of father and son even after they had disappeared. Finally, he sat again on the sofa and pondered for a long time on the words that had sounded like an omen of his future.