For his entire life, he'd been known as "peculiar."
A painfully sickly child, his father had found him peculiar for his fondness for biology books, and apparent disdain for business. The only activity they'd shared as father as son had been the occasional hunting trip.
But the peculiar boy had found most enjoyment not in his kills, but in their subsequent dissection.
His father had tried his best to steer his odd son in the direction of family business. He'd tried to teach him the secrets of banking and industry, and the value of competitive enterprise.
But by age seven, the peculiar boy had instead used his father's lessons to produce his first taxidermy exhibition.
To his father's minor relief, all tickets were sold, and the show at least closed profitable.
His mother had found him peculiar for the kinds of books he'd asked her to read him before bed each night. Instead of tales of adventure and fantasy, or mysterious folklore, her strange little boy's favorite book had been
The Origin of Species
.
She'd also found him peculiar for his enjoyment of their gardens, in particular, gathering flowers.
But by age eight, after studying volumes of chemistry literature, he'd created his first selection of perfumes for her birthday, using only her favorite blossoms.
He'd been relentlessly tormented by children in his town for his slight form and bookish disposition. His only friend had been a boy even more peculiar than he — the withdrawn, quiet, and violent Renz Wolfenbarger.
And together they grew in their peculiarity, a bond stronger than that of true brothers.
But it wasn't until Karl matured that he began to learn of the terrible darkness upon his friend.
There were rumors of Renz's father Johann, disturbing,
sickening
rumors, but Renz would never confirm nor deny those horrors. Even still, Karl could see the evidence of the mysterious hauntings of Schloss Wolfenbarger in the way his closest friend behaved around others.
If anyone crossed him, Renz would attack, to violent extremes. What started as harmless boyhood rumbles eventually worsened to drunken, bloody pub brawls as they grew older. Many a victim of Renz had even ended up in hospital, one of the reasons why Karl had grown interested in medicine.
If his dearest friend would harm, then Karl would learn to heal.
He'd watched Renz live his life as if in competition against all others. His friend was fighting against the world, every moment, of every day.
But Karl had known since they were children that Renz was more than a brute. Renz had protected Karl from the cruelties of their peers, defending him when he'd been too small and frail to defend himself.
Karl's father had abandoned the family in disgust upon learning his mother's true heritage, the year that Karl turned seventeen. It was a heritage she'd passed on to her peculiar son, a heritage Karl carried proudly, if in secret.
But it was a heritage his father had deemed unforgivably reprehensible.
Instead of exposing the remaining Günther family to public scrutiny, Renz had protected them from ruin, and had kept their precious secret. He'd paid their debts from his own inheritance, and had even sponsored Karl's schooling all the way through medical university.
Karl had tried, repeatedly, to reject the generosity, for it was more than he would ever be able to repay as a doctor.
But Renz would hear nothing of it.
"We're
family
," Renz had said. "There's no need to ever speak of this again."
When Karl's mother lay ill, it was Renz who had granted her dying wish. He'd found a rabbi to pray with her, in safe secrecy, giving her one last opportunity to express her faith before her death, protecting her from the harsh scrutiny of their town.
Karl had long resolved to defend his peculiar friend, his
brother
, until his last breath, for no one knew his kindness the way that he did. He'd stood by Renz after the death of Johann, after his affairs with married women, his dalliances with concubines and prostitutes, his scandalous divorce, and throughout the fearsome expansions of the ever-growing Wolfenbarger empire.
It had made him ill, for it went strictly against his conscience, but he'd even stood by his dear friend when the rapacious bastard had taken an eighteen-year-old maid from a château in France, turning her into some kind of pampered sexual slave.
But now, Karl was finding it harder than ever to stand by his friend, especially now in his abrupt absence.
Renz had left behind his household staff, an army of workers relentlessly dedicated to serving his every whim and desire. Their unyielding loyalty to their master, their
prince
, truly astounded him.
But apparently to Renz, servants were meaningless.
Renz had left behind his niece Odette Alexandra, a precious little girl who'd just lost her father, her baby brother, and very nearly, her mother. If there was ever a time little Dot needed family, it was now.
But clearly, Renz had been too selfish to care.
Renz had even left behind the young, fair maid Lena, who blindly loved him more than sense or reason could explain. Karl suspected Renz's infatuation with the innocent maid had brought more harm upon her fragile body than even she had realized.
But the sweet, pure girl loved Renz all the same, and her extraordinary resilience seemed to fortify her from his abuses.
It was indeed a twisted coupling, but there was no denying that somehow, Renz and Lena...worked. He couldn't deduce quite how, what elements between them had balanced, but Lena seemed to draw out both the worst
and
the best from Renz, just as Renz seemed to bring about a certain strength in her.
But Renz had walked away from Lena.
Again.
And most unforgivably, Renz had abandoned the closest thing he had to a true sister, the widowed Ava Wolfenbarger. She was grieving in a way that only Renz could truly understand, for he too had lost a child. Renz could comfort Ava like no other.
But he wouldn't even try.
Yes, Renz had been Karl's dearest friend for nearly his entire life. But even as a doctor, he was running out of excuses to rationalize Renz's self-destructive behavior.
Perhaps his dear friend could not be saved, neither by logic, science, nor love.
Perhaps his dear friend was destined to become just as monstrous as his father.
"Karl?"
Karl snapped his head up from the book he'd been struggling for the last hour to read, and was surprised to find Ava standing in the doorway.
This was the first word she'd uttered in a week.
He couldn't yet be certain, but it seemed as if Ava, beautiful Ava, was...
back
.
"You're out of bed...how are you feeling? Are you in pain?" Karl asked frantically, instantly reminding himself of his latest recordings of her condition. It was a few hours still before her next scheduled dose of morphine. While he didn't want her to suffer in pain, he wanted to ensure she didn't
also
suffer with dependency.
Ava smiled weakly and closed the door behind her, before quietly sitting next to him on the settee.
She was so fragile in how she moved, her narrow shoulders shivering despite the silk and fur blanket wrapped around her body.
But even in her physical weakness, Ava was dignified.
