“My husband has shared with me much of his
history.”
I put down my fork, reached again to my
coffee cup and held it aloft, keeping my gaze locked to hers. I
nodded once, slowly, an indication for her to go on.
She did so.
“When I say much, what I mean is all of it,”
she clarified.
“You are his wife,” I stated carefully. “This
comes as no surprise.”
“In doing so,” she sallied forth swiftly,
still speaking low but now doing it like she wished she wasn’t, “he
of course had to share about you.”
“Of course,” I agreed.
She licked her lips and pressed them
together.
I took a sip of coffee, giving her time.
“I…it’s not my place,” she eventually carried
on.
“What isn’t your place?” I inquired when she
didn’t explain.
“To say what I wish to say,” she
finished.
I drew in breath and put my cup in its
saucer. Once I’d done that, I folded my hands in my lap and
straightened my shoulders minutely in hopes she wouldn’t see this
effort at bracing for what I suspected she felt was not her place
to say was that now, as her husband had started to blossom out from
under the oppression of oppressive parents, she felt secure enough
to do the same.
But her oppression had come at my hands.
And therefore now she felt it was time to
share a few choice things with me about how I’d treated her, and
even Kristian, not the least of which was dragging my brother into
my treachery, in doing so putting him, her and their son at
risk.
Things I’d not only earned having to hear but
I deserved.
I would not relish it, of that I was
certain.
But I deserved it.
When she didn’t speak further, I felt it was
my place to invite her to do so.
This I did.
“I have not treated you thus, Brikitta, and
there were reasons for this that may at this juncture seem feeble
and still cruel so I’ll not insult you by attempting to explain
them, but in the end you are my sister. The sister my brother chose
to add to our family when he fell in love with you. I’m sure I
don’t have to remind you that in the past I’ve not hesitated in
saying a great many things to you, most of them unwelcome. I’m sure
you’ve sensed much has changed in the last weeks. Thus I’d like to
encourage you at this time to return that favor, no matter what you
wish to say. All I can say at this time to reassure you is that you
have my vow no matter what you say, there will be no ramifications,
to you or my brother.”
She stared at me, her eyes widened, her lips
parted in astonishment.
She did this but she did not snap out of it
and say what she wished to say.
Therefore I added, “In other words, Brikitta,
you are my sister. You are my family. And thus it’s absolutely your
place to say whatever is on your mind.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I shook my head. “You don’t need to thank me
for sharing that you’re free to speak your mind.”
“No, what I wished to say that I didn’t think
was my place to say was…thank you.”
I stared at her, puzzled.
“Pardon?” I asked.
“You…I love my husband,” she stated.
“This I know,” I told her.
“And you kept him safe. For years, you kept
him safe. Thank you.”
Suddenly, it was me turning my eyes away.
Indeed, I turned my whole head away, giving her my profile. And for
no reason, I lifted my napkin to touch it to my lips as I fought
for composure.
“Franka,” she called softly.
“A moment if you don’t mind,” I replied, and
damn it all, my voice was thick.
“Certainly,” she murmured.
I drew in breath, put the napkin to my lap
and again faced my sister-in-law.
The instant I caught her eyes, I saw hers
were not timid or frightened. They were bright with emotion,
undoubtedly just like mine.
“That is done. We move on from here, yes?”
she asked, her tone also quite husky.
I nodded, not trusting my voice not to give
me away.
“Good,” she said and carefully cleared her
throat.
I again took up my fork and used it to slice
into a fat, juicy sausage.
“I also would like to extend my invitation
for you to journey back and stay with us at our
aateliskartono
,” she said. “Kristian is right, we have much
room and I think he’ll quite enjoy his sister close for a while.
Not to mention, watching you get to know your nephew better.”
I had never much thought of children except
the fact that I never intended to have any. I had not had good
examples of parenting and the very thought of being in that
position (I did not admit to myself but it was true) terrified
me.
But one could definitely say that Timofei was
the handsomest child I’d ever laid my eyes on, and from what little
I’d noted, he was exceptionally bright, and I was certain that was
not a prejudiced assessment in the slightest.
“I would enjoy both,” I told her. “With the
addition of spending time getting to know my sister better.”
She flushed at my words and then awarded me
the first smile I think she’d ever given me, except the one she
gave upon meeting me, something to which I said something foul that
wiped it clean from her face.
I curved my lips up in return.
“My two favorite girls in the world at the
breakfast table together,” Kristian declared, and I twisted in my
seat to watch him walk in. “This heralds the beginning of an
excellent day.”
He was late for reasons unknown.
Until then.
He’d orchestrated what just occurred, perhaps
at Brikitta’s behest, perhaps for his own ends.
And there it was.
It would seem my brother was also blossoming
in the art of intrigue.
“Good morning, brother,” I greeted.
“Sister,” he greeted back, smiling brightly
at me and stopping at my seat to bend and sweep his lips along my
cheekbone.
When he straightened and moved toward his
wife, his smile changed a nuance as he said, “My wife.”
“My husband,” she replied.
He arrived by her seat and she tipped her
head back for him to touch his lips to hers. He lifted but an inch
away and they shared a look that made me cast my eyes from them for
it was intimate and not for me to see even if it was across a
breakfast table.
But in witnessing it, abruptly I felt much
like Kristian had explained he felt when he heard what had become
of our mother and father.
He had Brikitta. Someone who loved him. Who
gave him children. Who made him smile and laugh. Who clearly
fretted for his safety and had the courage to thank a woman who had
not once been kind to her because she made that husband safe. And
she was a woman who gave him that intimacy it was clear he not only
savored but cherished.
The feeling all that gave me was as if a
weight had been lifted and I could struggle to my feet, and perhaps
not fly, but be free to allow my feet to take me wherever they
wished to take me.
Not to mention, I’d never thought my
sister-in-law attractive, but at what I’d beheld, I changed my
mind.
Love created beauty, it would seem.
Following these thoughts, I also realized
with some discomfort that I’d never had that with Antoine. There
was intimacy, of course, and affection. He knew me well, better
than I knew myself, it was true. We shared many moments of humor
and also moments of quiet togetherness that I treasured.
But he was my kept lover.
He’d never been my partner.
I’d never had that. Not from Antoine, not
from anyone.
But I was pleased I could go forward with my
future plans content my brother did.
“So, I hope you’ll remain with us even if
you’ve finished your breakfast, my love,” Kristian said, and I
turned back to them to see him sitting at the foot of the table,
his wife to his right, me to his left, his eyes on his beloved.
He had his napkin in his lap and the footman
was pouring his coffee.
“For a spell, Kristian,” Brikitta replied to
his request. “Then I’d like to get to Timofei.”
“Of course, darling,” Kristian murmured,
smiling at her fondly then turning that look to me. “I ran into
your Noc in the passageway on the way here.”
I felt my breath turn shallow simply at the
mention of his name but also at the way my brother referred to him
as “your Noc.”
“He’s hardly
my
Noc, brother,” I
returned.
“Hmm…” Kristian mumbled noncommittally and
again gave his attention to his wife. “He’d just returned from
being outside, running. Odd that. Out in the snow wearing curious
shoes that I must admit look rather comfortable, the most peculiar
loose-fitting pants and a sweater made of fleece material that
appeared rather warm. But along with all that, he was running, of
his own accord just to do so, out in the cold. He was breathing
heavily because of it but seemed rather invigorated.” He shook his
head in bewilderment. “Such an unusual thing to do.”
Naturally, both Brikitta and Kristian had
been fully informed about the parallel universe—save Princess
Finnie not being the real one, and Princess Cora not being the real
one either, the same with Queen Circe, those were regarded as state
secrets.
“Most unusual,” Brikitta agreed.
I said nothing, trying to visualize Noc’s
attire and what he looked like “invigorated.”
I’d seen him “invigorated” once before, so
just as swiftly as I tried to visualize this, I attempted to banish
such thoughts from my brain (and failed).
“He shared with me his plan to take you back
to his world after Brikitta safely delivers, and I wholeheartedly
agreed.”
My mind was wiped of visions of Noc in
loose-fitting pants looking invigorated and my eyes cut to my
brother at his words.
“I beg your pardon?”
Kristian didn’t repeat himself.
He declared, “We decided that’s what you’ll
do. Return with us Älvkyla. Once the baby comes, Master Noc will
have concluded his explorations in our world and you’ll return with
him to the other world. An excellent idea. We spent not much time
with that world’s witch, but even in the short time we spent with
her, she seemed most capable, and it was shared she’d be your
champion. Not to mention, Master Noc shared he’d look after you and
he may not be a prince in his world, but he still has a princely
bearing. Thus I’m confident you’ll be safe with him and the
witch.”
Although I’d been leaning toward the same
decision, I found Noc’s sharing with my brother and my brother’s
declaration more than a little vexing.
“I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that
where I go next is my decision to make, Kristian,” I informed him
tartly.
“It’s lost on no one that you’ve grown quite
close with this man and he does not hide the fact that he holds
great affection for you, Franka,” Kristian returned. “He’ll have
your best interests at heart and seems to trust this witch. If you
desire a complete change of scenery, this is much preferable to
your other plans. Further, Master Noc informed me that you can
return when you please for but a few gold coins and in but moments,
not months.”
“I’ve not spoken to this witch so I’m
actually not aware of what the cost of travel would be,” I
retorted.
Though, that said, I undoubtedly had whatever
the cost even if it was extravagant.
And this reminded me I had yet to speak to my
brother about that as well for I intended to give him a healthy
portion of what I had.
That would happen, of course, but at that
juncture I wasn’t feeling the need to share my intended
generosity.
Kristian pushed his chair back and began to
move to the buffet, stating, “We’ll talk more of it later. Brikitta
wishes to get to our boy and I wish to join them. He had a fitful
night. Perhaps later we’ll all sledge into Fyngaard and get Timofei
some liquid chocolate.” He gave his wife a tender look. “And my
Brikitta as well as you so love the chocolate from
Esmerelda’s.”
“I would enjoy that, Kristian,” Brikitta
agreed.
“Then it’s sorted,” Kristian decided and
scooped up eggs.
“Well, if you both will excuse me,” I
announced, pushing my own chair back, having not finished my
breakfast, not caring but instead standing, “I have some fuming to
do and I’d prefer to do that alone.”
Brikitta grinned down at her plate.
Kristian appeared to be fighting his own
amusement as he lifted his brows. “Fuming?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know your
dictatorial ways aren’t especially welcome, brother.”
His expression grew serious. “I’m looking out
for you.”
“And this is annoying too,” I shared.
His amusement came back as he turned to the
heated silver chafing dish filled with sausages, muttering, “You’ll
get used to it.”
I sighed.
“Excellent, we thought we’d be late and miss
company at breakfast.”
This came from the direction of the doorway,
words uttered by Circe as she and Lahn came into the room, Circe
first, Lahn needing to duck his head to get through the door, such
was his height.
“Too late for Brikitta, as she’s off to see
to our son,” Kristian declared. “And Franka as well as she’s off to
fume.”
Lahn and Circe both looked to me but it was
Circe who asked, “Fume?”
“I’ll allow my brother to explain as he feels
free to discuss me and my activities and my future with just about
anyone,” I replied then arched a brow to my brother. “Would you
like me to go round up the servants? Send them here so you can ask
their opinion about what I should expect my next days and months to
contain?”
Kristian started chuckling as he took his
seat. Brikitta looked away and made no noise but her shoulders were
shaking.
Lahn gave Circe a severe look that would be
quite frightening if I had not seen him do it before, not to
mention their many moments of open tenderness and affection, this
look I took as his version of confusion even as she smiled brightly
at me.