Katrina cleared her throat again in an attempt to get herself a little bit more time. Perhaps she was not prepared for this conversation.
She had always counted on Natya's support But somehow, this time suited much better for this conversation. Her father had just woken up, probably had hit the gym and was going to start on the paperwork. His mood was perfect.
"I have.. I have been homeschooled my entire life—"
His expression shifted.
"—I do not hold anything against it. I love being homeschooled. I.. I love the atmosphere,, I love my teachers and my governess. I love everyone. I was just thinking that maybe I can actually go to a real school—"
He sighed and lowered his head.
It was enough of a signal to stop talking. Anyone in the house, from a new recruit to someone who has been with her father since their birth, would understand. She silenced herself.
She was quite ahead of everyone who would be in her grade. Her lessons consisted of things greater than a sixteen year old would learn. But it still did not satisfy the taste of doing more, of tasting what true freedom with peers of her age looked like.
Katrina wanted to be just Katrina, not the daughter of Ivan Orlov. Just Katrina, a girl with a significantly better family than most of the people. but what she wanted could not just happen because she wanted it. It would only happen if her father approved.
He did not say anything but continued to keep his head down. So, for the sake of one last attempt, Katrina tried again.
"I don't mean to be ungrateful for all that you have provided for me. I love you, Papa. Just for two years.."
"Rina," Ivan murmured, keeping his eyes on the stove, "you have mentioned it to me, and I have not entertained the idea for a reason. We do not have to talk about it anymore."
And there it was, the rejection she had feared. Her father has not voiced it out but now that he had it hurt.
"My grades are good, Papa." She told him. "I'm going to be ahead of everyone if I join school now. I will not fall behind and if you're worried about interacting with boys, I can always go to a convent school. I even searched a few good ones for you to loo—"
"It was a wasted search." He stood up abruptly, having enough of the conversation. "Send a maid up with the tea. Do not put any milk in mine." He was probably going to put vodka in it.
Katrina watched him walk away from her and out of the kitchen, most probably in the direction of his office. That was the only place she was not very welcomed in.
The ginger had boiled, rather she should say over-boiled. She had the tea and watched it change color from yellow to beautiful brown.
That was it. That was all she could do. Katrina could just watch other things blossom whereas she stayed behind.