"Reinhardt, I want to go see Ursula and Johannes,” Bertolt said as the family Porsche drove through the big gates leading to their home. “You can’t go now, Bertolt. I have something for you to do,” Reinhardt replied from the back seat, his eyes still closed. “Is Brunhilde back from Europe? The last time I saw her, she said she was going to Switzerland.” “No, she’ll be away for a while, like always. She told me she’s heading to Africa next,” Bertolt said, sounding annoyed. Reinhardt smiled a little. “Only heaven knows what she’s planning to do there. Probably something related to fashion, as usual.” “Reinhardt, what task are you talking about? I haven’t seen Ursula in a long time,” Bertolt said, his voice rising. “What, Bertolt? Can’t you stay a few months without seeing her? Yes, she’s your fated mate, but the family comes first. We’re in the middle of a strange situation with this curse we don’t understand, and all you can think about is Ursula,” Reinhardt said coldly. “I’m not
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