Muse - The Proposal 2

"Where my mother had died penniless, my father had an extensive estate and the title of duke. Because he had been out of his mind after Paris, accountants, notaries, auditors and other profiteers in his court managed Anna's inheritance. They were far from finished dismantling his financial empire, and his death disturbed their lucrative business with debt securities. They needed an heir, a straw man, and found one in my half-sister. Our father's death left her in a golden cage where your name and status matter more than who you want, or can be. As Duchess Von Anhalt Bernburg, she was a sad, pale shadow of the promising young woman she once had been. Desires that didn't fit her role tore her apart. That's how I met her again at the funeral. A soulless puppet, ready to be locked away in a convent by a gang of profiteers. She did not deserve this. I could no longer blame anyone else. Sure, my father's court took advantage of her circumstances, but I was the one who had put her in that position. I had to make amends."

"Insofar you can rectify what you did to her," Milena said.

A justified reproach. I nodded. I emptied my glass with a big gulp. It only relieved my parched throat. "I did what I could. After my half-sister recognised and acknowledged me as her half-brother, she 'died', leaving me as the only remaining heir. She chose an alias while I became Damian Von Anhalt Bernburg, the new puppet, but not the marionette the profiteers expected. Now I was the one pulling the strings.

"The next step was to provide Anna with the means to find happiness again. She did, by getting involved in running this estate and its dungeons. A place where she could leave the stifling weight of her upbringing behind. Where she experienced that the dilemmas she struggled with were not unique and shared by others. Where she didn't have to be ashamed for her desires. In the end, she offered me a gift that I did not deserve." I remained silent, back in that moment. After the anger and the tears. Anna's kiss burned on my forehead again. Horrifying and liberating at the same time.

"She forgave you for what you had done to her," Milena said. Her voice mirrored the ice in her eyes.

"Even after I confessed everything, yes. She also taught me you can use passions to help people instead of manipulating them for your own ends. The art here is prove of that."

"That's the reason for your proposal? To 'help' me by manipulating me?" It was hardly a question.

"That's not how it works. My orders give you the freedom to choose what you actually want, without judgement. I do demand that you respect the choices you make and accept the consequences. Even if you cannot foresee them. Just like in real life, but without the stifling hypocrisy."

She looked around, distraught, unable to respond, and fled into another subject. "I think we have seen all the pieces. I must say, an impressive collection. Inspiring too, although not all artworks are equally appealing to me."

I ignored her digression and stood. "You wanted to know me, Milena. There's not much more to tell. If you reject me or my offer, at least you're doing it for the right reasons." I held out my hand to her. "Come, I have one more work to show you."

She hesitated before taking my hand and following me through the double doors of the adjoining room. A baroque ballroom, the hardwood parquet inlaid with floral figures that recurred in plaster wall decorations. The only source of light was the large chandelier in the middle. The crystal of the chandelier spread the bright gaslight across the ceiling like a sky full of stars. Under it, a simple white dress on a coat hanger floated just above the ground, like a ghostly apparition. Around the neck of the hanger hung a black leather collar like mine, but without decoration. She tensed and glanced at me before her hand slipped from mine and walked towards the dress. I stayed at the entrance.

"Can I touch it?"

"Sure, you're meant to wear it."

Her hand slid over the dress, then stroked the clasp of the choker. She turned to face me. "This is a work of art?" she asked.

"It touches you, doesn't it?"

She nodded. "Not everything that touches me is a work of art, Damian. Your story touched me too." Despite the sneer, the floating garment caught her gaze again.

"This is the dress you will wear and the collar I will put on you if you accept our agreement. Your first assignment will be to create a work on a subject I choose. A work worthy of the exhibition you have just seen. The question is, will you accept my proposal, despite everything you know about me? Or will you go back home? The choice is yours. Tomorrow morning at breakfast, I expect your answer." With a hand kiss, I wished her goodnight and left.

After dinner, I stand by my resolve. It is time for your story, but I get more than I bargained for. I had no intention of sparing you, but you are definitely not sparing yourself. The gruesome story of your past confirms all the warnings I received. You are dangerous, yet I don't feel threatened. You disarm me with your candour, your remorse seems genuine and you answer all my questions. It doesn't make the choice you offer me difficult.