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We graciously ask for your forgiveness.
We pledge to serve you until our last breath and beyond.
To clean up our mistakes until you give us forgiveness.
Almighty God, you sent us, gracious as you are, your four horsemen as a warning.
We had risen above our station and humbly returned to your feet, our rightful place.
Good God..."
At that moment,I heard the door to the hall open. The knight and the guests nevertheless continued unperturbed with their prayer. But I could not help it and slightly raised my head until my eyes fell on what was happening at the entrance to the hall.
Instinctively, I sucked in my breath in surprise. My eyes widened, and I would have liked to stand up for a better view.
A man in a black tuxedo stood in the now open double door; I estimated him to be in his late thirties. He had blond hair that reached his chin in gentle waves. His eyes seemed to be of such a light brown that they flashed out almost like caramel. Arrogance radiated from both his entire posture and his cocky grin.
To the left and right of him stood two beautiful ladies. Both wore red evening dresses that were so provocative that they even fired my imagination. Their hair fell like liquid gold over the bare shoulders and shone with their jewelry around the bet.
Neither the knight, the guards, nor any guests reacted to their appearance. Usually, an arrest would take place now, followed by an execution.
Undeterred, the three entered the room and headed for a free table. When the man almost reached it, he waved a waiter over to order drinks. Then they sat down and unfortunately disappeared entirely from my field of vision.
Who were they? And above all, why were they allowed to behave and dress like that? I let my gaze wander through the hall to find out whether someone had reacted to their arrival. Suddenly, it crossed with that of the knight, who looked at me angrily.
Hastily, I lowered my head and squinted my eyes as I spoke the final words of the prayer. I had made a mistake and did not know what it would cost me.
CHAPTER 11
My heart raced as soon as the conversations at the tables in the hall resumed, almost as if nothing had happened. Why they hadn't gone straight for this guy and his companions, I still didn't understand. Was he perhaps also a big shot of the Knights of the Seals and, therefore, untouchable? Not only the beautiful clothes and the jewelry of the ladies violated the rules. No, and the color of his tuxedo was inappropriate for men.
Cautiously, I lifted my eyelids a little again, but unfortunately, I couldn't catch a glimpse of the table where the three of them had sat down. Should I tell Charly?
My friend was still sitting nervously next to me, and it almost seemed she had slumped over during the prayer. No, I could not tell her about it. She was already overwhelmed. With the situation, her life, yes, probably even with herself. Visibly, this gala here was torture for her, not joy. It gave me a stab in the heart since I had looked forward to it so much. But Charly was no longer my Charly. She had been broken, and I didn't know how.
Gently, I put a hand on her arm to get her attention. Large, frightened eyes stared at me, almost begging for release.
"Charly, are you not feeling well?" I asked my friend quietly. Even though it meant I wouldn't see her for a very long time, I still wanted to get her out of this uncomfortable situation. Behind us, a waiter rattled a couple of champagne flutes. Like a deer that saw a cone of light rushing towards it in the middle of the road, Charly stiffened at the sound and merely answered my question with a vigorous nod.
Concerned, I turned to my father.
"Dad, can you do me a favor? Charly is not feeling well and wants to go home. Could you please convince her father to send her home?"
Surprised, Dad's eyes first rested on me and then on Charly. He frowned at the sight of her. "She doesn't look well. Do you know what's wrong with her?" he asked, and I saw he, too, had discovered the emptiness in her eyes. Shaking my head, I followed his gaze.
Dad had known Charly since kindergarten and had watched her grow up and become a young woman. He lovingly squeezed my hand before clearing his throat.
"William," he addressed Charly's dad directly. "William, I don't think Charlotte is well. She's all pale around the nose. Maybe you'd better send her back home in your car."
William didn't even look at his daughter. He didn't need to. His face clearly showed the sorrow he felt for her.
Wordlessly, he rose, took Charly by the arm, and continued to lead her silently out of the hall. My feelings told me we would never know what had made my best friend lose herself. The wolf in sheep's clothing could hide even among former best friends. That's why my father didn't dare mention Charly's condition to William when he returned to our table a little later. Alone.
Here I was. Sitting at a gala where I had no business without my best friend, whom I had come to meet. Disappointed,worried, and at the same time so terribly angry once again, I reached for my wine glass again and emptied it in one go.
Two hours and three glasses of wine later, I was tired of lowering my gaze and squatting silently in that chair. I needed some exercise, and I had to go to the toilet anyway.
"Dad, I'm going to the washrooms for a minute," I whispered to my father, who seemed to be spinning slightly in circles. I should have stopped after the first glass, but it was too late for such thoughts now.
