Remember Me (Thilbo - Bagginshield)

Den Portrætmaler

Denmark, 1829
4th Life
The portraitist and the nobleman's son

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It was snowing, the big, clumpy flakes slowly drifting down and covering the ground in white.

Christian Ræder watched the snowfall from where he was sitting in his family's main parlor, a book open in his lap that had long been abandoned. It was the first snowfall of the year, though it would most likely be gone in two or three days - rain would come soon enough, melting it all.

He sighed, resting his cheek on his hand. Across the room, his sister sat at a desk, writing out a letter, most likely to her fiancé. They were to be married in the spring, and his sister spent most of her time planning the wedding or writing her fiancé, who was currently away in Germany.

"Are you writing a letter to Frederik, Lillian?" he asked, looking over at his sister.

She nodded. "I am," she answered. "But hopefully it shall be the last for a while, as he will soon be returning home in December."

"Will he be staying with us?" Christian asked as he flipped idly through the pages of his book, not reading anything.

"For a while at least, I believe," Lillian said. "Though he will most likely be with his own family, as well."

"Ah," Christian said, nodding in understanding. "They live up near Aalborg, do they not?"

"They do," Lillian replied. "It's a very lovely home, with a large, beautiful garden. You shall have to visit one day, when I am living there."

"Oh, I will definitely have to," Christian agreed. "If only to get away from Mor and Far."

Lillian grinned, glancing over at him. "You make your own life difficult," she said. "You and Oskar both. It is no wonder Mor and Far are always angry at you, with the tricks you both pull."

"I am not nearly as bad as Oskar," Christian argued, though he smirked. Oskar was the youngest of the three of them, though he and Christian were close in age, being only one year apart. They had been troublemakers since they were children, causing havoc for their nannies, parents, and even Lillian, who had been four at the time of Oskar's birth.

"You are both equally bad," Lillian insisted. "Honestly, it is a wonder that this house is still standing."

"We have gotten better as we've grown, however," Christian said. "You must admit that."

"I admit nothing," Lillian said, lifting her letter and blowing on it gently to dry the ink. Once she was satisfied, she carefully folded it and stood. "Now, I must make sure this gets in the post today, so I'm afraid I cannot continue this wonderful conversation. I will see you later, at dinner, if I do not see you beforehand."

Christian nodded, and she disappeared out the door and down the hall. A few seconds later, his mother appeared in the doorway, looking frazzled and exasperated.

"Have you seen either of your siblings?" she asked. "I have things to discuss with both of them, but I have not been able to find either."

"Lillian just left to post a letter," Christian explained, closing his book and setting it down on the table beside him. "If you hurry you can catch her down the hall."

His mother nodded. "And Oskar?" she asked, gathering up her skirts and looking down the hallway in the direction Lillian had gone.

Christian shrugged. "I have not seen him all afternoon," he said, and his mother sighed.