The Keeping of Lena Ch. 04

Before he'd called her a whore.

"I couldn't think of a better pupil. Come, let us pay the staff prior to your dinner," Diederich said.

The servants were grateful when Lena dispersed their wages, with a two weeks' advance, after settling all other estate accounts with Diederich. It was far more tedious work than Lena had anticipated, but she felt she was finally beginning to understand some of the financial responsibility involved with running a household the size of Schloss Wolfenbarger. Dozens upon dozens of loyal workers, all with specialized roles, depended on the regular dispersement of their wages, and Lena vowed to ensure that they would never again be past due.

Several hours later, after signing her firstcheques for Diederich to take into town the next day, Lena was finally finished with her duties.

"Can I ask you a question, Diederich?" she asked. Diederich stood to full attention.

"Of course, is there something I can explain further? Was I unclear in our lesson?" he asked.

Something about the way he offered to share information didn't seem anywhere near as patronizing as the banker earlier that day.

Diederich spoke to her not as her equal, but as her obedient servant.

"How long have you been employed by Herr Wolfenbarger?" Lena asked. Diederich frowned and squinted towards the ceiling.

"It will be...twenty years next spring that I've served the Wolfenbarger family," Diederich answered.

"And would you say, apart from Renz, I mean, Herr Wolfenbarger...that you know the most about all monetary dealings of the estate?" Lena asked. Diederich smiled proudly.

"But, of course! I audit the accounts myself, and as I school you further, you'll find that while my methods may appear overly detailed, it's most helpful in--"

"I'm sorry, Diederich...I actually had a specific question," Lena interrupted.

"Certainly, my dear, what would you like to know?"

Lena nervously chewed her lip, thinking back to those strange repeating transactions to an unknown figure Renz had been making for years.

"Do you know who H.B. Krause is? I saw his name in the ledgers at the bank," Lena said. Diederich nodded knowingly.

"Ahh...the monthly Krause payments. I'm afraid that that is the one recurring transaction that Herr Wolfenbarger has never fully disclosed. All I know is he has been making these payments for almost as long as I've served this house. And he has never missed one," Diederich explained.

"Do you know what it could be for?" Lena asked. Diederich shrugged his shoulders.

"I daren't ask too many questions. For a man in business, I will admit Herr Wolfenbarger is more ethical than most. Certainly more than his father. But there are still mysterious dealings...dealings which he may keep hidden for a reason," Diederich explained ominously.

"You think he's paying someone for silence? You think he's done something...unlawful?" Lena asked, concerned. Diederich winced.

"Not necessarily. But to achieve this level of wealth, and more importantly, to maintain it, sometimes businessmen like Herr Wolfenbarger engage inquestionable practices. I've learnt not to press him on the matter. He does prefer his privacy with certain things," Diederich explained.

Lena quickly ate a light dinner in the kitchens after finishing her accounts lesson with Diederich, but she was simply too energized with curiosity to completely retire for the night. So instead of retreating to her quarters, she journeyed to the highest level of Schloss Wolfenbarger, to the Master apartments.

She'd planned on avoiding this part of the castle in Renz's absence, for it reminded her so much of just how terribly she'd missed him.

But that name, that simple name, was echoing in her mind like a haunting, and Lena knew she might very well go mad if she didn't find out what it meant.

She started with Renz's private library, an overwhelming collection of texts in multiple languages of varying age. Some books were more worn than others, a suggestion of frequent reading, and Lena absently set those aside, curious to discover the words that Renz returned to time and time again.

After hours of searching, Lena found no mention of H.B. Krause, so she journeyed instead to Renz's sleeping quarters. There she found several more books from topics of fiction to topics of industry, in addition to detailed registers of what appeared to chronicle Renz's business dealings.

But still, that name evaded her.

It was only when the sun began to rise that Lena realized she was acting like a madwoman, obsessing over the name as if it held some profound secret. The name itself was likely meaningless, perhaps a former business colleague Renz had bought out of one of the many companies he'd purchased.

Lena knew she was holding onto it so tightly simply because it represented something about Renz she didn't yet know. Knowledge had been her place of power with Renz, for he told her things, private things, that he didn't share with anyone else.

But it was becoming more and more apparent that Renz held far more secrets than she would ever understand.

Defeated, Lena replaced all of the items she'd poured over throughout the night, resetting his bedroom and private library to standard, immaculate order, before closing the doors to his apartments.

She was preparing to return to her chambers to bathe, but a curious sight she'd never before noticed in the hallway outside the Master quarters made her pause.

It was a small, minute imperfection, the kind of thing largely unnoticeable unless one was already as mad with misplaced obsession as Lena was. It was a ripple in the wall, a faint, dividing line in just one tapestry, otherwise identical to all the others in the hallway.

Curious, Lena approached that imperfection, that fragment in an otherwise seamless boundary, and discovered that it ran the full length of the floor to the ceiling.

There were indents along the line, higher than her head, vaguely in the shape of Renz's palm. She pressed against it, and with a sudden gust of movement, the floor and tapestry were rotating, and Lena was enclosed behind the wall before she'd even realized.

To her relief, she was not left in total darkness, for the hidden narrow passageway led to a beacon of natural light Lena was certain was sourced from windows.

Lena pushed back thick curtains at the end of the hallway, and when she finally perceived the entirety of the secret room, she was breathless with sorrow.

Unlike the rest of Schloss Wolfenbarger, it was sparsely appointed, not too dissimilar from the cell where Ludovic had imprisoned her. There was a simple writing desk and chair, a basin, and a small, frayed mat, with no other furniture.

The walls surrounding the mat held iron chains, with cuffs too small to fit even Lena's wrists. Next to the chains was a modest collection of children's games, and a single wind-up toy with a stuffed jester.

The room was small, smaller even than the servants' quarter where Lena used to reside at Sterling Manor, with no light other than a single window, placed too high to see the world outside.

The purpose of this room was painfully clear - it was a prison.

A prison, for achild.

Lena's heart ached in longing, wondering just how much time a young Renz had spent in this cold, desolate place. Had his father locked him in here, for days on end?

She turned her attention to the desk, and found that it was covered with writings, numerous unsent letters signed by Renz with many dated as recently as within the last several months. She couldn't fathom why he'd want to spend time in such a place, especially to write, yet another mystery about the haunted man who'd broken her heart.

Lena sat down in the chair and began to scan through the letters. Some were written in what looked like Latin, others in Greek, and most in German, and all in Renz's skilled, elegant handwriting.

There was a separate wooden box at the edge of the table, enclosing another stack of letters, all wrapped in ribbon.

Too curious to resist, Lena opened the first letter, and was surprised to find it was written entirely in English.

And it was addressed to her.

*

My dearest Lena,

The pain of your absence is surpassed only by my deepest regret, for there is no greater shame I carry than the shame of harming you, my sweet darling. My home has become hallowed, a sanctuary entombing the love for an Angel carried in the blackened heart of this Devil.

My life was darkness before your radiance, and now, I know what Hell is. The Christians believe it is the absence of the love of God.

But true damnation is the absence of you.

You're the blessing I never deserved, for I was born a foul creature of Hell.

But I will love you forever, Lena. Always, in all ways.

Forever yours,

R.J.N. Wolfenbarger

*

Based on the date, Lena could tell that Renz had written the letter shortly after she'd left Schloss Wolfenbarger with Erich.

He'd secretly declared his love for her...in words.

Lena reached for another letter in the hidden pile, this one also addressed to her.

And written in French.

*

Ma très chère Lena,

I write to you in the tongue of the land you were born, for perhaps the Romantics can palliate the violent perversions of your libidinous Devil.

You've been gone twenty days, but it seems an eternity since I last feasted upon your flesh, for my lusts for you are like starvation -- this ache of the soul can only be sated by devouring you, mon sucre d'orge. My dry throat gnaws with a thirst that can only be quenched by the nectar that flows from the flower between your legs. You are my infernal addiction. My carnal obsession.

I know you did nothing to deserve this curse, my darling little one. I know not what malicious demon hexed you with such dangerously exquisite beauty, such mouthwatering sex, such delectable treasures my curse as male leaves me powerless to resist.

I see you and I am rendered nothing more than animal.

Your very scent possesses me to mate.

You freely offered yourself to me in Berlin, an innocent with the bravery of Jeanne d'Arc, the fearless pucelle d'Orléans, but I don't think even she could have fathomed the monster you unleashed with your sweet gift. There is terrible evil within your starving Devil, my love, an evil the words of the Savior cannot protect you from.

Perhaps I should attempt now to write my way to an undeserved redemption, to take this opportunity to tell you in Christian terms how I long to become one with you under God, to join our bodies for the purpose of Divine destiny. But as I pray your gentle eyes will never actually witness these perverse musings, I will instead speak to you, my darling Lena, my Angel, as the heathen I truly am.

There's a moment I've come to live for, an elusive sensation that is one of my greatest and shameful obsessions in our sex. It happens when I'm fucking you hard, that moment when we both know you can't take anymore, your body tenuous and fragile on the precipice of collapse. It's that moment when you can no longer scream, for your angelic form is so exhausted, so pained, from how hard I'm fucking you. You're also crying, because you realize you are completely defenseless, and no one can save you from me.

Yet your pussy contracts around my cock so tightly, as if to close yourself, and it's that last remaining instinct of self-preservation that spurs my lusts - in these moments, I long to destroy it. Despite how hard your body may try, your flesh is simply too delicate, too tiny, to fight against the abuse I'm thrusting into you. Even though your mind has admitted defeat, your body is trying, travailing, to stop what is causing you such great pain.

But my cock will continue a brutal assault on your tender flesh, for I long for you to feel my presence even when I'm no longer inside of you. I want you aware, every second of each day, in your tightest, most private secrets, of the fact that I own you, my sweet darling Lena, and your body is mine to use.

The moment reaches its climax when your pussy surrenders, your gates broken down, and Heaven opens for the pillage of your Devil. You come for me, sensations out of your control, because I've forced it out of your trembling body with my invasion. I can feel the purity of your soul from inside you, surrounding my cock with your benevolence, and I am compelled by a singular drive - to fill you with my seed.

Finally, your body surrenders, and I release my Hellish offering within you. But the satiation is only temporary, for in mere moments, I'm hungry for you again.

I will always be hungry for you Lena.

Rapaciously yours,

R.J.N. Wolfenbarger

*

Lena didn't even realize she was holding her breath until she grew severely lightheaded, holding the erotic letter in her hands so tightly, her knuckles has whitened. Her pussy throbbed in shameful arousal, for simply reading Renz's lusts was enough to remind her of how much she longed to feel him again.

There were more than three dozen additional love letters addressed to her, some remorseful, some passionate, and some even humorous. As she continued to read his unspoken words, she began to hear his voice, reciting for her those beautiful phrases he'd written, but had never before uttered.

It was almost as if he was with her again.

She reached the very last letter in the box, and Lena opened it slowly, wanting to prolong the moment as long as possible.

*

Dear Lena,

I am sorry I'm a monster. I wish I deserved you.

I will love you always.

-R.W.

*

It was the shortest of all the letters she'd read, written in simple, spoken language, but it was undoubtedly the most impactful. She held the letter tightly as her tears continued to fall, for his words filled her with as much joy as sorrow.

She read and re-read the letters, just to experience the phantom-like visions of his deep voice reading them to her. But too soon, his voice began to grow distant, and Lena knew the magic brought on by her exhaustion and near lunacy was beginning to fade.

She wiped her eyes and carefully replaced the letters in the box, but was surprised when she discovered one final letter beneath the base.

This paper was old, clearly undisturbed for years, so heavily decayed that the ink was mostly faded, rendering the words illegible.

The only thing Lena could clearly decipher was to whom the letter was addressed.

A Fräulein Heidi Brünnhilde Krause.

******

******

Renz had never particularly cared for the Americas.

With the exception of New York.

The city was a booming metropolis strategically positioned to seize the future, leveraging the best of the Old World, whilst shedding its antiquated shortcomings. Granted, America was still a fairly young country, only a few decades away from its latest attempt to tear itself apart.

But Renz knew thathere, the land of the revolutionaries, was the future home of world power.

He'd often wondered if Lena would ever care to leave Schloss Wolfenbarger behind and settle in the United States. The innocent girl knew so little of the world, had barely traveled, and he'd dreamt of showing her all of life's splendors.

Perhaps he'd build a mansion on the famous Fifth Avenue, overlooking Central Park. But maybe instead Lena would prefer he build her a larger, more traditional estate further from the city, somewhere protected like Long Island.

Perhaps Lena would enjoy living as a libertine American, spending her days pursuing her hobbies and passions with the wealthy comforts only he could provide. She could enjoy dinner parties at The Plaza, shopping at Tiffany's, and evenings at the Metropolitan Opera, for he knew how much Lena loved music. Perhaps she'd decide to take advantage of the opportunities for herself in New York; maybe she'd even be interested in attending university.

While he'd originally loved having Lena as his personal pleasure slave after he took her from Sterling Manor, Renz knew that it was not the kind of life Lena was truly meant for. And as his love for her deepened, he knew she also wasn't meant to be just a tycoon's wife. His sweet Lena wantedmore--she just had no way of knowing what that was.

New York was the kind of place where Lena could find it, and Renz longed to have her by his side, for he would gladly love and support her as she explored.

But this wasn't the visit for such foolish dreams. This trip to New York was for one purpose--a cure for his sickness of the mind.

And for all he knew, Lena had already forgotten about him. In his absence, he had no doubt there would be a long line of wealthy suitors eager to court the young maid, for she waseligible, in every polite and carnal way. Lena was only just beginning to learn just how enticing she was, how men reacted to her, and he knew it wouldn't be long before she emerged into her full, deadly feminine power.

It had broken his heart, but he knew leaving was the best thing he could have done for the woman he loved. She now she had the freedom, and resources, to do whatever, andwhomever, she pleased.

He could only hope that when he returned, and only after finding his cure, that she'd still be interested in allowing him to compete with those other suitors. He hoped that she'd allow him to prove he could be a better, civilized man.

A timid knock on the carriage door reminded him of his immediate objective.

"Umm...Herr wolf-een-barge-er...wir sind willkommen...oh wait, no...wir sind angekommen--"

"Just call me Mr. Wolfenbarger, Stuart. Have we arrived?" Renz corrected in English, not interested in hearing further attempts at the poor driver's pitiful understanding of German. Stuart looked relieved.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Sorry, sir, it's a lot harder than I thought it would be. Your friend Mr. Becker said I should try and learn a few phrases when he notified me of your arrival. Boy, you guys really have a lot of strange words that don't really have equivalents..."

Stuart continued to ramble on, and Renz impatiently wondered just how long he was supposed to wait before interjecting. Back in Germany, everyone from his associates in his offices to his servants at Schloss Wolfenbarger, knew that he had little patience for idle conversation. People he employed knew that they needed to be direct, and to the point.

But manners weredifferent here in the Americas.

"...so the weather should be fairly mild for another few weeks at least, but it does get pretty cold at night in these parts. How long are you staying, sir?"

"Undecided. Are you going to remove the luggage or shall I?" Renz asked. Even the horses seemed to be growing impatient.

"Right away, sir. Sorry, sir," Stuart said bashfully, retreating to the back of the coach.

Renz stepped out of the carriage and onto unpaved American soil for the first time in more than a year. They were fairly removed from the city, and by design.

He couldn't seek his cure amongst the immediate distractions of Manhattan.

Stuart was still talking beside him, still about the weather, as Renz walked up the stairs to the main entrance of the large, highly cloistered colonial estate. It was the only structure in the center of a wildly dense forest, with no other buildings or structures for miles.

Renz paused, wondering if Stuart would stop talking and open the doors, like a properly trained driver, but it seemed as if this was another instance where European customs differed from American.

With a sigh, Renz knocked on the door with a gloved fist, and not a second later, he was greeted by a plain woman in a long, shapeless black gown buttoned all the way to her neck.

"You must be Mr. Wolfenbarger. We've been expecting you. Please, come in," she said softly.