“He’s pretty enough to be a lady, no?“

Himmler’s new favourite intendant Fräulein Kant pointed at Jochen, who froze mid movement, like the rabbit spotting a familiar silhouette in the sky. She smiled only in the corners of her full red lips, her eyes were detached from that smile, dull and calculating. She examined him, estimating his measurements, her professional gaze lingering on his lowered eyes. He’d make a fine addition to her entourage, a wonderful sacrifice of the solstice, a shy little bunny to douse in red blood for Himmler’s silly make-believe. How glad she was now that she had agreed to make those tacky white robes just a bit more sheer and so very short.

Himmler turned to see who Fräulein Kant had chosen to replace her sick actress. The young woman had cancelled at the last minute and thereby completely ruined his wonderful Germanic feast. He was surprised to find Fräulein Kant pointing at his adjutant. He pushed his round spectacles up on his nose, into that small rosy ridge where it usually rested and looked more thoroughly at his adjutant than he ever had. He noticed the small circumference of Jochen’s waist, cinched further by his belt, the slender fingers holding Himmler’s own briefcase, neatly manicured fingernails pressing into the soft leather, his deep set eyes, that clear blue he envied so much, hidden behind dark long lashes and for the first time he also noticed an uncharacteristic red tint to Jochen’s cheeks that was quite becoming. Yes, she was right, he was certainly pretty enough.

Himmler reached out to grab Jochen’s free hand and held it between his palms, one thumb stroking the back of Jochen’s hand. The touch made his adjutant queasy, as did Himmler’s cordial smile when he said: “Will you be so good and save the day, Jochen?” It wasn’t just that he was spoken to like a child, he was used to that, could swallow being treated like this, even in front of the intendant, but having to agree to be humiliated as a mere favour, for the evening entertainment of Heini and his highly decorated guests, it turned his stomach upside down.

Jochen threw a desperate glance at Fräulein Kant who surely must have been joking. She answered his call for help with a sardonic smirk. Himmler wouldn’t accept no for an answer and neither would she.