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{Chapter 1}
It was most certainly a happier time. In those days, people tended to look brightly to the future. They were filled with a great sense of hope for the future. Anyone could invest in the stock market and could expect to find themselves rich in no time. They were all influenced by greed, no doubt, as he was. He traded hot passions for cold cash.

Vash had once considered himself a man that possessed optimism, a hope for a better future, but he found that there was nothing to warrant any such optimism in this world. His optimism was powered with some greed. It had been a while since he had last been back in New York, and for all he knew, he never wanted to see the city again. A city cloaked in white and drenched in its sins, no doubt.

He knew a man who hoped so much with a hope so pure, so just. Donald—who represented everything ash wished he still had, who was holier than the city with no doubts.

---

The Zwinglis were a prominent family who find their roots in the old, upper-echelons in Switzerland. The Zwinglis were known as the von Zwinglis in Switzerland and Liechtenstein, and a few immigrated to the United States, dropping the unnecessary "von". Vash was among one of the descendants of a Zwingli sans the von. He grew up with a nice amount of money and occasional visits to Switzerland. Well-to-do and living in the mid-West, the world of bonds and finance seemed to call to Vash. And where would be a better place for that than the city of New York?

He found himself a home in West Egg. Twenty miles from New York, a pair of eggs lay, separated by a bay. West Egg was the less fashionable (and more economical) of the two, where anyone with new money wanted to find themselves. Adjacent to Vash's house was a mansion that resembled a miniature French chateau, with a luxurious marble swimming pool and acres of garden just over Vash's hedge. This was Donald's manor. Vash's house was not nearly as elegant or large. Simply comfortable and well-to-do.

Across the water stood the temples of the fashionable East Egg, where the people lived like gods and goddesses with money bestowed to them through the ages.

Vash was driving out to the east for dinner that evening with the Kirklands. Lilly Adelaide Kirkland was once a von Zwingli, a close cousin to Vash. She had lived with Vash for a period of time. They grew up with a closeness that almost resembled siblinghood, though she left at the age of twelve for Switzerland again. From what her letters told him, she spent some time in London. Vash wasn't so sure he could imagine his innocent cousin as a young woman who had married the illustrious Arthur William Kirkland.

Arthur had gone to university with Vash a while back. Arthur comes from some pretty old money back in England, and so even in his university days, he didn't have to be so thrifty with his money. The two of them were acquaintances and had something that only somewhat passed for friendship. Not that Vash had too many friendships to compare with anyways.

Lilly's husband was without a doubt a powerful figure. By the age of 21, he was known as a successful published writer who had perhaps written the world's next classic, Eyes of Silence. His family's wealth was so vast, Arthur never had the need to bother himself with the silliness of the bond business. Arthur and Lilly seemed to float around restlessly, having spent two years in England and a month as guests in Spain.

It was on such an evening that Vash found himself driving to East Egg. Their mansion was an elaborate palace that towered over the bay, the lights a glittering gold through the French windows (imported from France, of course). Arthur stood like a Greek god, straight and tall, on the front porch.

"Glad you could make it this evening, Vash," he said with a politeness that is to be expected of a Kirkland "We'll go inside."

They walked through a high hallway, the interior having twice as much grandeur as the luxury of the exterior. A breeze blew, the curtains billowing like the sails on ships on the bay.

There was an enormous couch where two women sat, dressed in white as the goddesses of antiquity were clothd. There was a boom as Arthur Kirkland shut the windows and killed the wind. The two young women rose from the couch.

One was a stranger to Vash, with honey blonde hair and eyes as blue as the bay. The other was Lilly, who laughed in her perpetually charming manner. She held ash's hand for a moment, and looked Vash in the eyes, as if promising that there was no one else in the world she wanted to see.

"It really has been a while, Vash!" she said ecstatically.

"It really has."

"This is my friend, Amelia Jones," she said with a smile, prompting the two to shake hands. Lilly had really grown to be a beauty, as any von Zwingli was meant to be.

The husband and wife idly chattered for a whiles, until Lilly irrelevantly said to Vash "You ought to see the baby. She's beautiful and she really would love to see her uncle."

"I'd love to."

"She's asleep right now. She's three years old. Haven't you ever seen her?"

"Never."

"You really should see her. She's—"

Arthur Kirkland rested his hand on Vash's shoulder.

"What do you do, Vash?"

"I'm a bond man."

"With who?"

Vash told him.

"Never heard of them," he remarked.

"You will, if you stay in the East. I'm predicting an exponential growth of principle."

"Definitely will stay in the East. Why should I even dare to venture away from the top of the world? Europe is on the brink of destruction."

"Absolutely, though why should we care for now? We're safe enough here," Miss Jones said. She looked towards Vash and raised an eyebrow. "You live in West Egg, right? I know somebody there."

"I don't know a single—"

"You must know Donald."

"Donald?" asked Lilly "What Donald?"

Before Vash was able to reply, he found himself being whisked to the next room. They sat at a table overlooking a porch basked in sunset. The two women engaged in idle chatter that Vash took no part in. They talked about gossip involving princesses and presidents, of Parisan tennis matches and Chinese pearls.

"You make me feel uncivilized, Lilly. Can you talk about goats, at least?" Vash confessed.

"I apologize, but civilization is going up in flames. Have you read The Kriegwaldsteiner Case Study by van Kooten?" Arthur asked Vash.

"Why, no. I don't try to involve myself in politics, frankly."

"You really should read it someday. It is a fine book that examines the development of Kriegwaldstein in central Europe and outlines just what will happen to Europe as a whole in the future, comparing it with the case of the dissolution of Kriegwaldstein. There will be a few troubling changes in governments by force. It's already starting."

"Arthur really is very profound with his reading choices," Lilly said, a bit of sadness somewhat buried in those eyes.

"This Dutch fellow really has this whole thing figured out. We are fortunate to live here in America, despite its flaws. Once war strikes in Europe, there will be no escape."

"You ought to see what it's like down South—" Miss Jones began, only to be cut off by Arthur's passionate tirade.

"But you see, despite all this and the way things are shaping up, Britain and her empire will remain, even if there are talks of decline in the empire. Those colonies should understand that once everything is up in flames, things would be much more difficult without the support of the British. She will be the savior of Europe. Her location is advantaged, her power strong, her people a hardworking people. The British are the ancestors of the first Americans, after all."

He was much too focused on his own personal knowledge, his face contorted into one of sincere concentration. It was really intriguing just how much heart he put into an otherwise mundane topic. He was only interrupted by the telephone ringing inside. The butler left the porch.

"I really am grateful you've come to live here, Vash. You don't know just how much I've missed you," Lilly said, her face glowing ever so slightly with the light of dusk.

The butler came back and whispered something into Arthur's ear. He frowned in response.

"Please excuse me," he muttered as he pushed his chair back and went inside.

"I'm sorry, Vash," Lilly said quietly, going into the house.

Amelia and Vash exchanged a short glance.

"What is—"

Amelia put a finger to his lips.

"Shhh..." she leaned forward, unashamed to eavesdrop.

"This Donald you spoke of is my neighbor—" Vash began.

"Don't talk. I want to hear what happens."

"Is there something the matter?"

"You mean you don't know?" Amelia asked with a look of surprise "I thought everybody knew."

"It's obvious I don't."

"Why—" she lowered her voice "Arthur has some woman in New York."

"He does?" Vash asked, feeling a sense of anger, but knowing that it was none of his business.

Amelia nodded "She might have the decency not to call during dinner, don't you think?"

Before Vash had a chance to respond, Arthur and Lilly were back at the table.

"Excuse the interruption..." she said, looking at Amelia and Vash "It really is romanic outdoors, yes? The lawn trees are in full bloom. It's romantic, isn't it, Arthur?"

"Very, my dear," he said.

The telephone rang inside, and Lilly was shaking her head at Arthur. All conversation ended there.

---

After dinner, Vash and Lilly spoke alone together, around the verandas under the moon's glow.

Her eyes were filled with a mixture of emotions, bottled up properly, not to be outwardly expressed; a woman of her rank was to deal with decency and disconnected politeness.

"I've had a really bad time, Vash, and I've become much too cynical," she said, breaking the silence. This wasn't the Lilly that Vash remembered, but at the same time, did he really remember her? He attempted to steer away the conversation.

"How is your daughter? Chelsea, yes?"

"I suppose she's alright... Listen, Vash. Let me tell you what I said when she was born."

"Sure."

"It really shows how I've come to feel things... she was less than an hour old, and Arthur was God knows where. I felt utterly abandoned. I asked the nurse whether it was a boy or girl. The nurse said it was a girl. I laughed to myself and said 'I hope she's a fool. That's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.'"

She shook her head and wiped the tears away.

Vash felt the uneasy insecurities within her, insecurities that she hadn't had before. She was fully aware of Arthur's affair, but what was she to do about it? Where was happiness now? Leaving Arthur would cause a big scandal, and besides, her letters had expressed how much she did love her husband. For all Vash knew, Arthur could probably be a good father to his daughter, but he had the feeling that Arthur perhaps failed in that aspect.

---

The turquoise room bloomed with light. Arthur and Miss Jones sat on opposite ends of a long couch as she read to him in her sensational alto voice.

When they came in, she held them silent for a while with a lifted hand.

"To be continued," she said, tossing the magazine on the table "in our very next issue of Time Magazine."

She slowly lifted herself up, stretching her arms and legs in the manner of a cat that had just awoken.

"Ten o'clock," she remarked, apparently finding the time on the ceiling. "Time for this good girl to go to bed."

"Amelia's going to play in the tournament tomorrow," explained Lilly.

"Good night," she said softly. "Wake me up at eight, won't you, Lilly?"

"If you'll get up."

"I will. Good night, Mr. Zwingli. See you in the morning."

"Of course you will," confirmed Lilly "In fact I think I'll arrange a marriage. Come over often, Vash, and I'll sort of, hmmm... fling you together. You know, lock you up accidentally in linen closets and push you out to sea in a boat, all that sort of thing—"

"Good night," called Amelia from the stairs. "I'm not listening!"

Vash was unamused by such a proposition, but he saw no way to object to Lilly. Not that he could.

"She's a nice lass," said Arthur after a moment. "Her family really shouldn't let her run around the country this way."

"Her family is one aunt that's a thousand years old. Besides, Vash is going to look after her, aren't you Vash? She's spending lots of weekends here. I think the home influence will be good on her."

Lilly and Arthur looked at each other in a moment of silence.

"Did you have a heart to heart chat with Vash?" Arthur asked suddenly.

"Did I? I suppose we did. We discussed Kriegwaldstein if you are interested."

"Don't believe everything you hear, Vash," Arthur advised.

"I heard nothing," Vash said, getting up to get home. They came to the door with Vash, side by side. As Vash started his motor, Lilly called "Wait!"

"I forgot to ask you, but I heard you were engaged back in the West?" she asked.

"That's right, we heard you were engaged," Arthur said.

"That's not true. I don't have enough money," Vash said.

"What a lie, you aren't poor at all, Vash! It must be true, we've heard it from quite a few people," Lilly said.

Vash knew what they were referring to, but Vash wasn't in any sense engaged. The lies that people made up were extraordinary. Vash had no intention of being rumored into marriage, even if the lass involved (involuntarily as well) was a lovely one. Of course, such rumors were an inconvenience, given that she really was engaged to someone else. Such rumors were a driving force for Vash to move.

The drive back was a peaceful and relaxing one, the bay clear, sparkling with diamonds of moonlight. The New York lights were like millions of stars on the skyline. As he parked his car, he noticed that he wasn't alone— fifty feet away, a figure had emerged from the chateau, hands in his pockets. He was looking towards the silver sky, as if contemplating what was his in the heavens.

Vash was tempted to call to him, but decided against it. It seemed as if he was content with being alone. His neighbor stretched out his arm to the dark water, his hand trembling. Vash looked in that direction, seeing nothing of significance except... a single green light at the end of a dock on the other side of the bay. When Vash looked once more for Donald, he had vanished, and Vash was left in the discontent of the clear night.