Due To Raden Saleh

Dmitri Mikhailov was a fine gentleman in his early 35. Young but barely felt, his wealth expands from the heart of middle land in West Siberian Plain to Nanjing, Shanghai, Hongkong, Erdenet, and Irkutsk in the East, Toolonlahti, Amsterdam, Den Haag, and Braunschweig in the West, which then would he use all of them as his milestones to conquer the Lands of the South.

A prominent noble man from Russian Empire himself, as one true Heir of The Great Braunsimov dynasty, he was of course served with the best in almost every western country he stepped on that Russia has good relationship with. One of the most progressive lobby towards him came from the Netherlands' dynasty of Van Rijkmaar.

It was a warm summer morning on the bank of the River of Ob, where he could see a pair of naughty fox beneath his favourite hawthorns grown near the transparent white door of his study. Seeing those foxes together disturbing the little squirrel before they both chase and savour it, again, he knew, together-- reminded him of how he once struggled to establish such a dream family of his own. A family where... the wife and child would be so close to him. Yet so obligant.

Master, a knock on the door across the hall sounded, and Dmitri sipped his tea. He pressed the button beside his left hand, ringing the little toller above the knocked door suggesting he was ready to receive whoever coming. It was Bogdan, his 54 years old Head of Household.

There is a present for you, said Bogdan, with a chuckle. From Lord Van Rijkmaar in Netherlands. Apparently he still tries to offer you Lady Marianne Wilhelmina...

An African-European man entered in, bringing a vast rectangle wrapped in brownish paper. He opened it in front of Dmitri before then dismissed himself out of the room.

It was a portrayal of two beautiful young ladies, daughters of Lord Van Rijkmaar himself. The Dutch left a note saying that it was painted by the notable Raden Saleh, the great artist from the Land of The South where Dmitri planned to invest. Marianne Wilhelmina, was of course, the prettier. And the prettiest among the two. The Lord had repeatedly asked him to marry her. What made him still so reluctant to deal was that he knew the history of the old Lord. His family had long he knew to have strangling debt resulting from his speculative deals in the wars for the ownership around East-Indies. Thus to marry the daughter meant that he had such a morale obligation to help the old Dutch with his debts.

However, my master... doesn't she grow all this time? Bogdan said while preparing to hang the portrait in the gallery. The Braunsimovs have long been known as Russia's most notable collector.

Dmitri remained silent. Indeed that he planned to travel to Netherlands imminently, to observe his tobacco business there... but the present was as though adding him more obligation to visit Van Rijkmaar family.

The face of the more beautiful than before Marianne Wilhelmina lingered over his mind.

He could just make her his concubine, he had more than enough power to do it. He doubted that the old Dutch would mind it, but he had not too much idea of this girl Marianne. Once they met five years ago, she was this timid 13 years old little blonde girl, she barely even dared to steal a glance towards him.

He thought about his son, Ricardovich, from his legitimate betraying wife, Duscha. Those little blue eyes were each day being more and more overcasted than ever, one could hardly believe that it belonged to the young face of the Heir of the mighty Braunsimova dynasty. Ricardovich was only five but he never smiled, or laughed, as other five years old did. Dmitri knew that the child missed his parents.

But Dmitri could not look up to the little boy's face. It reminded him too much of Duscha, those bright blue eyes... of the love they once shared, of the betrayal she did, with that bastard. It reminded Dmitri too much of how sick his heart was to love Duscha so much to receive her betrayal in return.

So Dmitri made up his mind that indeed, Ricardovich would never be his successor. That boy would only grow as lame, coward man just like his mother, and, ha ha ha... Dmitri chuckled bitterly alone, it was indeed, maybe his unconscious mind driving him to create such a disadvantageous, uncomfortable circumstances that Ricardovich grew up in.

So The Readers saw the aftermath, unfortunate condition could a boy like Ricardovich endure because of the decision the mother once made.

The Father was at present prepared his journey to the Netherlands to find himself a new wife, to provide him a new son, a new Heir for what supposed to be Ricardovich's throne.