It wasn't long after Bruno's meeting with the President of the United States that he found himself back home in the German Reich.
His vessel landed in Trieste, where he boarded a private train bound for Tyrol, his sanctuary. His family awaited him there. And waiting they were.
Heidi stood in the entryway of their palace's foyer, a stein brimming with a full liter of beer in hand. She wore a traditional Tyrolean Dirndl, her golden hair braided into twin plaits, a floral crown of fresh edelweiss perched on her head. The sight alone made Bruno's breath catch in his throat.
He, in contrast, was dressed in crisp, modern formalwear, an odd juxtaposition against her folk attire, which these days had been largely relegated to holidays and parades. Even so, he couldn't help but smile. She looked radiant. And absurdly out of place.
Before he could ask why she'd dressed this way, Heidi smirked and thrust the stein toward him, her tone playful, with just the right touch of seduction.
