Matthias found them before dawn.
He entered the chapel carrying a lamp.
Behind him stood the steward and two servants.
For several seconds no one moved.
Then Matthias looked at Hartmann.
“You.”
Hartmann rose.
Matthias set the lamp down.
“I told you never to enter this house again.”
Hartmann said, “You should hear him.”
Eleanor stood.
Matthias ignored her.
“Leave.”
Hartmann did not.
Matthias crossed the chapel.
“What part of that requires explanation?”
Eleanor stepped between them.
“Matthias.”
He looked at her.
Her face frightened him.
“What?”
“Felix is your son.”
His eyes moved to Hartmann.
Then back.
“Do not.”
“He is.”
“Do not insult me again.”
Hartmann said, “She is telling you the truth.”
Matthias laughed once.
“Of course she is.”
Eleanor’s voice rose.
“The child I gave birth to died.”
Matthias stopped.
No one in the chapel moved.
Eleanor continued.
“Hartmann replaced him.”
Matthias looked at the doctor.
Hartmann did not deny it.
Matthias’s face emptied.
“What?”
“The boy Eleanor delivered was stillborn,” Hartmann said.
Matthias stared.
“You are lying.”
“No.”
“You expect me to believe you stole a child?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Hartmann took a breath.
“Because I was a coward.”
Matthias crossed the space between them and seized his coat.
The steward moved forward.
Hartmann raised one hand.
“Don’t.”
Matthias shook him.
“Whose child?”
Hartmann looked directly at him.
“Anna Keller’s.”
Matthias let go.
The name did more than any blow could have.
Eleanor watched her husband’s face.
She knew then.
He remembered.
Hartmann said, “You know who she was.”
Matthias’s mouth moved.
Nothing came out.
Eleanor whispered, “You accused her of stealing.”
Matthias looked at the floor.
“She did steal.”
Hartmann’s voice hardened.
“No.”
Matthias looked up.
“She did.”
“You dismissed her because she told you she was carrying your child.”
“Be careful.”
“Why?”
Hartmann stepped closer.
“You have spent two months demanding proof from your wife. Shall we discuss yours?”
Matthias stared.
Hartmann continued.
“Anna came to me after you sent her away. She had money from you and nowhere to go.”
Eleanor said, “Did you sleep with her?”
Matthias looked at his wife.
“Before our marriage.”
“That was not my question.”
He swallowed.
“Yes.”
Eleanor shut her eyes.
Matthias whispered, “Once.”
Hartmann laughed bitterly.
“Men become very precise when counting sins.”
Matthias turned.
“Hartmann.”
“No.”
For the first time, the doctor raised his voice.
“No, Graf von Falken. You have had your turn.”
Matthias stared.
Hartmann removed his coat.
Then his waistcoat.
The servants looked away in confusion.
Hartmann pulled his shirt from one shoulder.
The birthmark lay beneath his left shoulder blade.
Dark.
Oval.
Almost identical to Felix’s.
Matthias stared.
Hartmann said, “Look.”
Matthias did.
“The eyes you hated in the boy. The mark you used to condemn your wife.”
He buttoned his shirt again.
“They are Falken traits.”
Matthias shook his head.
“No.”
Hartmann’s expression hardened.
“My father was Johann von Falken.”
Matthias went still.
“Do not.”
“He kept my mother near this estate before he married yours.”
“You are lying.”
“I have the parish record.”
“No.”
“I have his letters.”
“Stop.”
“I have the pension payments he made until he died.”
“STOP.”
Hartmann stepped closer.
“You wanted blood, Matthias?”
His voice shook now.
“Here it is.”
Matthias’s hand moved to the ceremonial hunting sword hanging beside the chapel door.
Eleanor saw it before Hartmann did.
“Matthias.”
He drew it.
The servants backed away.
Hartmann did not.
Matthias pointed the blade toward him.
“You have lied to this family for years.”
Hartmann’s voice was low.
“Yes.”
“You stole a child.”
“Yes.”
“You let my wife believe-”
“Yes.”
Matthias’s arm trembled.
“And now you stand there claiming to be my brother?”
Hartmann looked at the blade.
Then at Matthias.
“Half-brother.”
Matthias took another step.
Hartmann did not retreat.
“Hartmann,” Eleanor said.
The doctor lifted one hand and pushed the flat of the blade aside.
Not dramatically.
Almost wearily.
“Lower it.”
Matthias’s breathing was harsh.
Hartmann said, “You have pointed enough things at innocent people.”
Matthias’s eyes burned.
“Felix is Anna’s child?”
“Yes.”
“Mine?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Anna named you in writing before she left Bavaria. Because the lying-in register identifies the father as a nobleman from Falken. Because the payments came from your account. Because I knew the dates.”
Matthias’s hand lowered slightly.
Hartmann continued.
“And because when I saw that boy’s eyes, I knew exactly whose family he belonged to.”
Matthias looked toward Eleanor.
She stood beside the pew, pale and rigid.
Hartmann’s voice became quieter.
“You were not betrayed by your wife.”
Matthias shut his eyes.
“You betrayed her.”
Eleanor looked away.
Hartmann continued.
“And tomorrow morning, because you were too proud to admit fear, you intended to send your only living son to an institution.”
Matthias whispered, “Enough.”
“No.”
The word echoed through the chapel.
Hartmann pointed toward the castle above them.
“That boy has spent three years calling you Father.”
Matthias opened his eyes.
“And while you were busy proving he wasn’t yours, you never once asked what would happen if he was.”
