“Babe, you’re churning through history,” Cora noted. “History is history. Break free.”
“You think it’s that easy?” I asked her.
“I think it would be harder than hell,” she answered instantly. “But I also think Brikitta’s right. Your parents,” she shook her head, “not good people. I don’t know what they made you believe about yourself but I was there in that jail. I heard what you said to them. I heard how they taught you to be. And I heard that you want to be something different. Don’t let them hold you back. Okay, you were how you were. You did what you did. But that’s over. Let that go. Let them go. And be who you want to be.”
I looked away from all of them, lifted my forgotten teacup and took a sip of the now-cool contents.
“Just be his friend,” Cora advised, reaching out a hand and wrapping her fingers around my thigh to give me a squeeze that I found quite bolstering. “He wants that. You need that. Don’t fight that. And whatever happens from here…”
She trailed off and I looked at her and saw her compassionate smile and slight shrug.
Staring in her eyes, allowing all their words to penetrate, I realized in some ways I was still agitated.
An uncertain future had a way of causing that.
But in more important ways, I was far less.
They did not think my thoughts shameful. They didn’t think any less of me after sharing them.
They were caring. And supportive.
And it couldn’t be escaped.
It felt nice.
And damn it all, I had to thank them for it.
“I appreciate you listening,” I murmured, leaning forward to put my cup in its saucer.
“Anytime,” Circe said.
“Definitely,” Cora said.
“With pleasure, sister,” Brikitta said.
I looked at them in turn, my lips tipped slightly up.
“Right, I want my babies. Naptime should be over. Should we pull the cord and have the nannies bring in the kids?” Circe asked, deftly changing the subject.
“I’d love that,” Brikitta declared.
“I’m on it,” Cora stated, jumping up and moving to the cord.
Now this was something to look forward to. The last several days, I’d spent some time with Timofei and in that time I’d been proved irrevocably correct. He was an almost unbearably handsome child, would most certainly grow up tall and straight like his father, and he was exceptionally intelligent.
I’d not seen him that day.
His arrival would take my mind from my troubles, much more than watching Noc excel with a bow.
Or at least I told myself that.
* * * * *
Prior to going down to avant-dinner drinks that evening, I stood in my dressing room with my brother, the doors to the locked wardrobe open, the chests also open, the furs folded, stacked and on display.
And my brother was speaking.
“Out of the question.”
I’d just offered him his share.
“Kristian—”
He turned a severe look to me and I closed my mouth.
“You went before the evil she-god Minerva, your life most definitely on the line, she could have cut you low in a snap,” he lifted his hand and did just that, “as penance for what you did. For my penance, I cowered in very well-appointed accommodations that, it’s true, I was not at liberty to leave, but there was no danger to life and limb.”
“You did what you did because of me,” I reminded him.
“Stop that,” he clipped.
I blinked in utter shock at his angry tone.
“You asked my assistance. I gave it to you,” he stated sharply. “I was under no duress to do so. You didn’t threaten me or my family. It was my choice, Franka, to help my sister who was in distress and I wanted to do something to alter that. I committed treason and I did it knowingly because I care about you. You bear no responsibility for that and I don’t wish to upset you, love, but it’s offensive you think me that weak that you feel you need to shoulder it for me.”
“I didn’t mean to offend,” I replied in a feeble voice I’d not heard pass my lips, not ever, not even when my father was doling out his punishments.
“I know you didn’t,” Kristian responded, his tone now gentle. “But, sister, you did it all the same so I’m asking you to stop.”
I tried a different tack.
“I certainly don’t need all this, Kristian,” I flicked a hand to the wardrobe, “and you know it’s true. I could give you but a quarter of it and you and Brikitta would want for nothing for the rest of your lives.”
“We did not earn that treasure,” he retorted.
“Fine, if you believe I did, then it’s mine to do with as I wish and I wish to share it with you. And,” I said my last word tersely, “if you refuse it again, then I’ll bestow it on Timofei, then, when he or she arrives, I’ll bestow more on your unborn child. That you cannot refuse.”
He scowled into my face for a long moment before he muttered, “You’re very stubborn.”
“Do not say this as if you haven’t known it about me the extent of your life,” I returned.
He looked to the treasure displayed.
I waited.
My brother said nothing.
I grew impatient.
“I’ve just decided to visit a goldsmith and have him immediately begin work on a set for Brikitta, earrings, necklace, bracelets, rings, at least one hundred Sjofn ice diamonds, with perhaps a few Korwahkian gems thrown in,” I declared.
Kristian looked to me, grinning and shaking his head.
“You’ve always been impossible,” he declared.