Bastian
Chapter Side Story 30 (END) - Da Capo al Fine

✧Da Capo al Fine✧

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Odette gazed at Bastian from across the dining table. His platinum blonde hair, dampened by water, appeared a shade darker than usual. He wore a cream-colored linen suit, sans jacket, with an aqua tie, all of which blended together seamlessly.  Her eyes traced the lines of his neatly buttoned waistcoat and crisp white shirt, down to the blue diamond cufflinks. Blue diamonds,  same type of jewel she was wearing.

After taking a sip from his glass, Bastian glanced toward the seat next to him. “Coco.” At his call, Constance, who had been bending over the table to admire the flowers, quickly straightened up.  She aligned her neck and back, squared her shoulders, and removed her arm from the table. Gone was her earlier tomboyish appearance; in a white lace dress, Constance presented herself as the very image of a lady.

Bastian smiled, noticing Odette had been watching him for a while. Constance, seeing her father smile, also brightened up, her bunny ears ribbon and semi-platinum hair gently fluttering in the breeze. The air was filled with the scent of sunlight and the sea. Nearby, their twin sons sat beside their mother, their fine platinum blonde hair had it quickly tousled by the wind.

“Karl! Johannes, sit down!” Odette firmly called out, stopping the two boys from climbing onto the table.

Karl Ilis and Johannes von Demel were named after their grandfathers,  a decision made by Bastian that Odette wholeheartedly supported since it held significant meaning for both of them. Admiral Demel sent a pile of gifts like a battle fleet after he overwhelmed with happiness at having his name passed on the boys.

“You can’t do that. You must behave like gentlemen,” Odette firmly told her sons. Obeying their mother, Karl and Johannes sat nicely in their respective chairs. Just like their father, even though they were lively and playful, the two boys had soft and gentle hearts. They inherited not just his looks but his temperament as well.

People were often surprised by how much Karl and Johannes looked alike, and even more by how much they resembled their father. Countess Trier was somewhat disappointed that the boys didn’t resemble their mother, Odette, feeling that her efforts in bringing them into the world were overlooked. 

However, Odette herself saw things differently. She had secretly wished their second child would look like Bastian. Having Constance, who resembled her, healed the scars of her own childhood. Seeing her daughter bask in the love of a caring father helped heal the wounds of Odette’s own inner child. It was as though the child within her heart matured alongside Constance. Odette wished, if it were possible, she wanted to give Bastian the similar sense of happiness and joy.

“Ma’am, shall we start the meal?” Lovis approached quietly and asked. 

Odette nodded, her smile gentle. Despite a few regrets, she chose to set them aside, recognizing the morning’s busyness and the family’s growing hunger.

“Yes, Lovis. Please go ahead.”

Every Sunday morning, the family enjoys a private breakfast together. This tradition began naturally for the Klauswitz family and has continued ever since.

“Look, it’s shaped like a horseshoe,” Bastian observed, looking at the shell of a boiled egg Constance had cracked open. “Finish this egg, and you’ll have a splendid horse ride, my beautiful lady.” He offered this bit of fortune-telling to his daughter, who, excited, clapped her hands with delight and quickly finished her egg.

“Your skills are improving,” Odette, observing the charming ruse, burst into laughter. The egg fortune-telling had become a cherished tradition in their home, with Constance, in particular, being a devoted believe in her father’s playful prophecies.

“All thanks to a good teacher,” Bastian replied, winking and smiling, as he started his breakfast with a sip of lightly brewed coffee.

The sound of the couple’s conversation and the children’s laughter carried on the fresh summer morning breeze. The sun shone brightly but wasn’t too hot, tempered by the cool air. Bastian kept an occasional eye on Constance as she ate. He placed a piece of bread, slathered with butter, on her plate. She looked thrilled, as if she owned the world, when her father added more sugar on it, just like her mother’s taste in food.

After finishing her bread, Constance wiped her mouth with the napkin. She tapped her mouth lightly, folded the napkin neatly, and then picked up her bread again. This time, she bit into the bread much more gracefully and chewed thoroughly. Bastian noticed the change in Constance’s behavior mirrored Odette’s elegant mannerisms across the table. Constance had copied her mother precisely, how she took small bites of her buttered bread, delicately wiped her mouth, and chewed with care. 

Bastian chuckled and gently stroked his daughter’s hair. Constance truly adored her mother and had become even closer to her as she matured. She deeply loved and idolized her mother, hanging on her every action and word.

After enjoying her bread, Odette moved on to her tea, her hand adorned with a sparkling blue diamond, making even this simple act seem elegant.  This ring was a staple of her attire every weekend morning during the family breakfasts.

Trying to emulate her mother, Constance quickly reached for her glass of milk in her excitement. However, her enthusiasm dimmed when she noticed how plain her glass was compared to her mother’s elegant teacup. She sighed, looking disheartened. Seeing this, Bastian couldn’t help but laugh, immediately asking a servant to bring a fancy teacup filled with milk for his daughter.

Odette who focused on her sons’ choosing their food, caught Bastian’s act a bit too late and shot him a disapproving look. “Bastian…” yet she resigned herself to let him be. She believed it wasn’t beneficial for children to imitate adults too prematurely, but the action was already taken and the enthusiasm Constance showed was too genuine to squash, it felt wrong to disappoint her now.

Odette saw it as an ideal moment to teach tea-drinking etiquette to her daughter. Demonstrating with slow, deliberate movements, she elegantly picked up her teacup. With a calm and dignified posture, Odette passed on the lessons of etiquette to her daughter, just as her own mother had taught her.  

With a smile, Odette praised Constance for attentively and cleverly followed her example. Constance’s cheeks flushed with a shy smile, looking as pretty and endearing as an angel. She might revert to her playful, adventurous self soon, but in this moment, she was the very image of a perfect young lady.

Their weekend breakfast, though it started late, stretched on until the sun was high in the sky. After Constance had neatly finished her dessert, she began to steal glances at the plate of cookies in the center of the table. Seeing this, Bastian didn’t hesitate to pass two cookies to his daughter without Odette knowing.

“Too many sweets can be bad for children, Bastian. It’s a bad habit, too.” 

Seeing her father reprimanded, Constance hesitantly returned the cookies she had eagerly taken back to her plate.

“Just this once, Constance.” Odette said.

Hearing those words, Constance nodded and savored the cookies gifted by her father. Shortly after she made her way to her mother and started whispering secrets.

Bastian, well-versed in the rhythms of their family interactions, continued sipping his plain coffee. Odette, with a knowing smile, occasionally shot glances his way, hinting that their whispered topics was about him.

Constance was hesitant at first, but with Odette’s gentle caress on her cheek and her encouraging words, she found her courage. 

Though their voices were too soft to hear, Bastian could make outtheir words by reading their lips:

 ‘It’s okay, Constance. You can do it.’ 

After planting a kiss on her mother’s cheek, Constance turned and, with a determined stride accompanied by their white dogs, akin to princesses in their own right, she made her way towards Bastian.

“Hello, Mr. Gentleman,” Constance said, looking up at Bastian with a formal air that was beyond her years. “May I have a dance with you?”

Bastian, amused by her absurd request, glanced at Odette, seeking an explanation. . “What’s all this about?”

“Constance wants to dance the waltz with you, Daddy. She’s hoping to be your first dance partner at our next party,” Odette clarified, barely holding back her laughter. At Constance’s last spring birthday party,, Odette had shared a dance with Bastian. That scene sparked a love for the waltz in her,  or more accurately, she desired to share a beautiful dance with her father.

“Coco wants to waltz?”

“Mum taught me!” Constance quickly interjected. “I can dance the waltz! I can do it just like Mum. Really.” Her serious expression convinced Bastian of her earnestness.

“It’s our daughter’s wish, Bastian. Her first dance with her father would be a precious memory,” Odette added, supporting Constance’s request. Soon, from the family living room, which led to the terrace, the melody of a waltz began to play, seemed the mother and daughter had made thorough preparations for this moment.

With laughter, Bastian accepted his daughter’s invitation, and Constance led him to the terrace’s center. As they moved from the shade, brilliant sunlight bathed them, highlighting the special moment.

Constance faced her father, taking a deep breath to prepare. She lifted the hem of her dress slightly and bent her knees. The assembled servants looked on, their applause and encouraging smiles bolstering the young lady’s confidence as she prepared to dance with her father.

With the manner of a gentleman, Bastian regarded Constance with both respect and admiration. His gaze, as blue as the sky that day, shimmered with the joy of witnessing his daughter’s happiness.

There on the terrace, with the vast sea stretching out before them, Constance shared her very first dance with her father. From the distance, Odette saw her husband synchronized his steps with Constance’s unpolished waltz moves and held this moment dear to her heart.

Should Constance ever forget this day, Odette would recount the tale of their beautiful times together, ensuring these cherished moments were remembered, time and time again.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Constance experienced a marvelous horse riding session, just as her father had foretold with his playful fortune. Although she was still learning on a pony, her poise and spirit matched that of her mother‘s grace and confidence.

Bastian ended the riding lesson with generous praise and applause. When he moved to assist her dismount, Constance shook her head, choosing to step down by herself. She descended from the pony proudly like a queen in her own right.

“Daddy, can I ride Schnee next week?” Constance asked her father with eyes sparkled.

“Well, maybe when you’re as tall as Mom?” Bastian responded with a laugh, lifting his daughter into his arms. Schnee, Odette’s horse, was leisurely grazing on the far side of the paddock. Inspired by her mother’s majestic rides along the coast,

Constance began to learn riding after she saw Odette galloping along the coast on a white horse. The sight had inspired the young girl to dream of one day riding Schnee herself.

Bastian walked the forest path back to the mansion, carrying his talkative daughter. Odette often mentioned that it wasn’t best to carry a child capable of walking on her own, but the days when he could be everything to his daughter wouldn’t last forever, so  he wanted to cherish these moments fully, feeling the same about the time spent with Karl and Johannes.

 Instead of taking a shortcut, he chose the longer, scenic route through the forest, which was alive with summer blooms. Whenever a particularly beautiful flower caught his eye,  he paused to pick it, and every time he handed one to his daughter, her smile was brighter than the blossoms themselves. By the time they reached the mansion, Constance’s small hands were cradling a bouquet as vibrant and colorful as the journey they had taken.

“Bye, Daddy! See you later.” Constance, her hands still holding the bouquet, departed with the nanny waiting in the entrance hall for her piano lesson with Odette.

Bastian walked up the stairs to the third floor. After changing out of his riding gear, he stepped into the corridor, buzzing with activity.

“Young masters! Young masters!” The maids were in a flurry, seeking Karl and Johannes. The boys had been playing well in the playroom but had vanished mysteriously  while snacks were being prepared.

Instead of heading to his study, Bastian went to the master bedroom, recalling the dogs’ barking from behind its door earlier. Knowing they wouldn’t bark without cause, he suspected the boys might be there. His intuition was correct the moment he pushed the door open.

“Here they are. Everyone, don’t worry,” Bastian announced, calming the anxious maids before he stepped into the room. “Karl. Johann.” He called out his sons’ names.

There, Karl and Johannes had made themselves comfortable inside the doghouse, playing with the dogs’ toys. The white princesses sat outside with a look of bewildered in their eyes. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ N0vᴇlFire(.)nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

Margarethe began to whimper sadly at Bastian, and her three daughters quickly joined in,  voicing their displeasure at those intruders invaded their space. Bastian took a moment to calm the dogs, offering apologies for his sons’ playful intrusion. Fortunately, peace was quickly restored with the diplomatic offering of some snacks to the canines.

With the situation resolved, Bastian lifted his sons from their fortress within the doghouse and carried them back to their playroom. There, Karl and Johannes continued their play, the earlier adventure seemingly forgotten, as their laughter and chatter filled the room once more.

Bastian enjoyed quality playtime with his sons. Karl Rothewein Klauswitz was deeply focused on constructing with wooden blocks. He loved to stack them higher and higher, aiming to build a tower that surpassed his own height. When the tower eventually tumbled down, he was momentarily upset, shedding tears over the collapse but quickly recovered, and setting to work on an even taller structure. With his lips tightly pressed together in concentration, Karl wore an expression of seriousness that seemed beyond his ages.

The younger twins, Johannes Ardenne Klauswitz, in his own realm of imagination, picked a picture book from the shelf. Opening it to a random page, he began to narrate a story. While he couldn’t yet read the words, Johannes crafted his tales from the illustrations, giving life to the images before him. His storytelling was remarkably animated, infused with a confidence that made his improvised stories come alive.

Separately yet together, after a satisfying playtime with their father, Karl and Johannes drifted off to sleep. The scene was one of serene sibling symmetry. The maid, arriving to check on the boys, relayed that Constance, too, had finished her piano lesson and was now taking her nap.

Finally granted a moment of solitude, Bastian glanced at his wristwatch before making his way down the sunlit corridor of the mansion. As he anticipated, in the solarium,  he found Odette at the piano, immersed in her practice.

Bastian leaned against the corridor wall, allowing the music to envelop him. Odette’s performance was a familiar melody; through the years, his musician wife had introduced him to a wide repertoire and this particular fantasie, one of the many pieces he had come to recognize, resonated through the space, creating an intimate concert just for him.

He was transported back to the evening before Odette departed for Rothewein, listening to this very piece. Hidden within the shadows of the room, it was in this same spot, he had been a silent audience. That night marked the first time a piece of music had truly captivated his heart. The music, as beautiful now as it was then, and he wished for Odette’s performance to never end.

“Bastian,” Odette called out, her voice cutting through the silence left by the paused music. “Come in.”

It seemed she possessed a sixth sense, aware of his presence even beyond the door. With a chuckle tinged with a soft sigh, Bastian stepped into the solarium.There, Odette, illuminated by the golden sunlight that flooded the room, sat at the piano. She slowly turned towards him.

Bastian made his way to Odette’s side, and began to massage her tense neck and shoulders. “How was Coco’s lesson?”

“Constance is so much like you,” Odette said with a laugh as if gave up. A similar smile appeared on Bastian’s face in response.

“Bastian,” Odette called out once more, her fingers delicately pressing the piano keys.

“Yes,” His low, soft voice blending seamlessly with the music.

“Shall I play it again? It’s your favorite piece, isn’t it?”

As Odette’s fingers multiplied on the keys, the melody blossomed into richer layers. Bastian settled into the armchair diagonally across from the piano, a spot Odette had thoughtfully prepared for him, making him an audience of one for this intimate concert.

With a blooming smile, Odette started her performance. Bastian, mirroring her expression with a gentle smile of his own, watched her in silence.  Odette picked up her play right where it had paused.

The trills filled the room,

The melody unfolded, to hold the moment of beauty,  just a bit longer. 

Then, she moved to ‘Da Capo al Fine’  a return to the beginning and a completion in the same breath.

THE END

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

“I’d like to express my deepest gratitude to the loyal readers who followed Bastian from its inception to its conclusion. Translating this story has been a roller coaster of emotions.  I’d also like to extend a massive thank you to my exceptional co-editor, Seemi and Carl, whose invaluable support has enabled me to release a new chapter every day.  Apologies for any shortcomings in the translation; rest assured, I will continue to strive for improvement in the future. (Moonvielle)

Sᴇarch the ɴøᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.