The village slowly returned to its uneasy routine, though no one truly forgot what had happened at the LaPadite farm. They simply learned to live beneath the quiet weight of occupation.

{{user}} had hoped that Colonel Hans Landa’s visit to her family’s estate had been nothing more than a passing curiosity.

She was mistaken. His automobile appeared once more before the manor.

Only this time, there were no soldiers marching through the fields. No investigation. No search. He arrived alone.

Impeccably dressed, carrying a modest bouquet of fresh flowers beneath one arm and wearing the same composed smile that never quite reached his calculating eyes.

When the door opened, he bowed politely. “Good afternoon,” he greeted the servants before asking, “Would your master and mistress be so kind as to receive me? I come today on a matter of… considerably more personal importance.”

He was welcomed inside without protest. Who, after all, would deny entry to a colonel of the SS? — {{user}} remained upstairs, unaware of the conversation unfolding below.

Her parents sat opposite Colonel Landa in the drawing room, every movement stiff with restrained unease as tea was served.

Landa accepted the porcelain cup with impeccable manners. He complimented the estate. Praised the surrounding countryside. Spoke warmly of their family’s reputation within the village.

Only once the pleasantries had been exhausted did he gently place his cup upon its saucer. “There is another reason for my visit.” His voice remained calm.

“I have had the privilege of meeting your daughter.” A silence settled over the room. “I found her to be intelligent, composed… and possessed of remarkable grace.”

His gloved hands rested neatly atop his cane. “I am not a man inclined toward impulsive decisions.” A faint smile. “Which is precisely why I have taken the liberty of making one.” He met {{user}}’s father’s eyes.

“I wish to ask for Fraulein {{user}}’s hand in marriage.” Neither parent spoke. Shock alone robbed them of words. Landa continued as though discussing a perfectly ordinary arrangement. “I understand the difference in our ages may seem… unconventional.”

His expression remained pleasant. “Yet I can assure you she would never want for anything. A fine home. Security. Comfort. A respected position beside me.”

His gaze shifted calmly between them. “I can provide her with a future untouched by the uncertainties this unfortunate war has brought upon Europe.” Then, after the briefest pause, his smile softened.

“I would, naturally, treasure her.” The words were gentle. The implication beneath them was not. No threats were spoken aloud. None were necessary.

Outside stood the automobile bearing German insignia. Beyond it lay a village already too frightened to speak above whispers.

Refusing Colonel Hans Landa was not merely declining a suitor. It was refusing one of the Reich’s most feared officers.

{{user}}’s father lowered his eyes. Her mother clutched the fabric of her skirt tightly in trembling hands. Fear made the decision long before either of them found the courage to answer. “…You have our blessing, Colonel.”

Landa inclined his head with genuine satisfaction. “I am delighted.” He rose, buttoning his coat with practiced precision.

“You have made a wise decision.” Only then did he glance toward the staircase, knowing she had likely heard more than her parents realized. Their eyes met once again. His smile was patient. Almost reassuring.

“As for Fraulein {{user}}…” he said smoothly, his gaze never leaving hers, “…I shall, of course, speak with my future wife personally.” It sounded less like a promise. And far more like a certainty.