*Aunt Funda*
"What is this?" Funda nearly killed over right then and there as the postmaster left, leaving Funda with not one, but three big problems. And making it as if she was about to scream, her fangs sharpening, and blood rushing into her ears. But as tempting as it was, Funda stopped herself, knowing full well she couldn't, not when all the servants and ladies of the court were in earshot.
"Is everything alright, Lady Funda?" Sure enough, one of the older noble women spotted Funda, and drew closer with interest.
"Is that her Empress's mail?" She asked on, sweetly, stepping closer, "And a package too?" She leaned in, eyes clearly trying to read. "I wonder who sent such a,"
"Oh, yes," Funda quickly pulled the tray close to her, "just news of the colonies again." Funda lied, desperate to hide the senders.
"Oh," The noble seemed to deflate, "Just that?" Funda nodded.
"Yes, probably nothing but more bad news." Funda went on, "I'm sure her Empress will prattle on about it in the next court session, you know." Funda added with a little forced laugh. "And we all know how dreadfully boring that's going to be."
"Yes…quite." The noble frowned, losing interest, and turned, at last, looking for better gossip.
Thank god, Funda couldn't help but be relieved. Even more so, because she didn't spy on the blue wax seals.
We don't need the word of this getting around the court. Funda knew. It would be counterproductive to their efforts. And when we've been growing in support! Of all the times.
"Damn it," Funda hissed, forcing down a swallow. This was the last thing they needed right now.
I must find Mykhol. Funda turned directly to the one place she knew could always find him at this time of day. And she made to hurry, making it there in little time.
*Ana*
"Why…would both write to me?" My eyes burrow into both the letters and the package, sitting on the silver tray, more confused than anything at the news.
"And…I have…a package?" That being the most odd, so much that I have to bookmark where I am, before pushing it to the side.
I've been making good headway with the pile, nearly halfway through, thanks to Mykhol's help, (though he's not enjoying it as much as I am), over a few days. And I am happy to say most are littered with pieces of paper, notes to revisit for later.
"For me?" I ask again.
"I- yes," Aunt Funda pauses to steady her voice." It seems so." and lowers the tray.
"From Her Majesty?" Mykhol, meanwhile, glances at the tray again before looking up. Funda gave a nervous shrug, not sure what to do.
"Yes, it, Mykhol-" Funda nearly shouts out, as Mykhol moves on his own to take everything. It's a complete break of decorum, but I'm more shocked at the sight of them, than having the foremind to reprimand him.
My eyes only fell over the pile, itself, bewildered.
"Since when did our little Prince send gifts?" Mykhol scuffs, flopping Nicoli's letter atop the box gracelessly, as if holding little interest to him. The last letter, however, from the Queen, does give him pause.
"So…Queen Belinda is writing now?" Mykhol turns the letter as if looking at something before glancing up at his mother, in question. "That's…new."
"Yes…it, yes." I can't help but mumble, but I'm already growing distracted, lost in my thoughts, my eyes drifting to Nicoli's handwriting.
Is this a dream? I have to blink. But even after, I still see them, unbelievable as it is. Could this really be? Nicoli has written another letter? Just when I thought…
"I thought…" I mutter as a small smile starts to grow on my face, despite myself.
"Anastasia?" Mykhol, meanwhile, prompts, pulling me back to reality, suddenly making me aware.
"Ah," I blink, slightly startled, and realize I must be looking odd, just staring at the letter. "I…was just...I was not prepared for…all of this." I only go, pressing my lips together, just as a dilemma suddenly forms.
Which one do I open first? I look over at the letters, then the package. It was the first time I had ever seen Stepmother's writing. Her script is fine be it, excessively curled. It looks pretty but is challenging to make out because of that. And inadvertently, more intimidating.
I feel myself swallow, looking at it, but I won't start with hers. No, instead, I'll go with the safer option of all three, pulling the package toward me.
"This…" I lose my voice as I pull untied the string. The hemp rope, slowly unraveled, for all three of us to fall quiet after a moment, as the flaps fall open, and I can see it fully.
"He… sent you a miniature?" Mykhol breaks the silence at last, looking up at his mother, while I only move to pick up the small frame
"He…yes?"I continue to look down at the small painting, my hands gently holding the frame.
"Why would you send me this?" I ask quietly, more to myself, floored but at the same time, feeling my face warm up. A smile grows as I see a smile I've missed so much, smiling back at me through the paint.
"You…" I can't help but see his once fleshy face starting to define, even his blue eyes, though still mischievous, seem to have matured in the time apart.
"He's grown." I say at last, quietly, admiring the changes. My little brother is not as little now.
"How disrespectful." Mykhol, meanwhile, scuffs, making me lose my smile.
"It is rather in bad taste to send such a thing." Aunt Funda remarks and Naska follows.
"Don't they know we don't do portraits because of the dead?"
"Of course they do." Mykhol tsks, waving his hand. "This is just a plain insult. Anastasia, you're being made fun of."
"Insult?" I find my fangs twitch, "Cousin, Prince Nicoli is STILL a child."
"But Cousin," Mykhol adjusts, taken aback. "I was only saying-" But Mykhol stops after. "Forgive me; I meant it out of respect for you." Mykhol goes on. "I wanted to ensure you had the due respect you deserve, is all."
"Is all?" I repeat, but finding nothing more to say to it, instead, find my attention turned to the letters. Again wondering which better to start.
Will this explain why he sent it so late? My hand hovers over Nicoli's letter, before lifting my eyes to find the Emperor's portrait and secret hideaway behind it.
Behind him, Nicoli's letters still lay waiting. What about those? Would it be correct to read this when there were so many before this?
Was that fair to Nicoli? I have to wonder, not sure what to do.
"Anastasia?" Mykhol, meanwhile, shifts at my delay." Did you hear me?" He lifts his head, "I said I was sorry."
"Yes, oh," I remember, almost forgetting him. "You're Forgiven." And I move from Nicoli's letter to take the Queens. It's a card, actually, not a letter, and I move to read. But it isn't long before I have to stop.
"Anastasia?" Mykhol asks again, noting my pause."What is it?" Mykhol goes, moving to stand over me, trying to see. "What does it say?" It doesn't take him long either to see, The message pretty straightforward.
"What is it?" Aunt Funda prompts, her eyes looking to Mykhol as Naska picks her nose.
"I'm… invited… to Nicoli's tea party," I answer, almost finding the words stranger, to myself than they can.
"A tea party?"Funda gasps, looking from me back to Mykhol who only just looks on, stunned.
"Wow, " Naska flicks the booger away. "how nice."
"Surely you're not considering it?" Mykhol finally finds his voice, turning to me. His eyes search my face as I find my hands moving on their own, folding the letter carefully, back into the envelope.
"Why?" I find the words spill out, almost out of body. "It's common, isn't it?" I go on, "For monarchs to attend such things, isn't it? Aren't you the one who told me once to be more social?"
"Yes, but," Mykhol flinches, as if not being able to argue with that. But just as quickly, he tries again, with a new point.
"What about the Bulgeons?" Mykhol goes as if the idea just hits him. "I thought you were trying to find a solution for it. Hell, that's why we've been reading all these damn books-" Mykhol motions to the table. " But you want to go gandering off to a foreigners party?"
"It's not a foreigner," I go, "He is family."
"You are acting childish!" Mykhol snaps, shaking his head at me."This is senseless." He goes, holding my shoulders. "You can't go. You need to stay here. " And he squeezes them, harder, almost putting his claws through. "No, you must stay. You can't go. Stay and,"
"Enough" I stand, pushing his hands off. "I am tired, now. Everyone," I turn to look at them all. " Leave me. I want to be alone."
"Your Empress," Naska and Aunt Funda exchange a look to Mykhol but say nothing more, just bowing before turning to leave. They seem to have no other word to say. But not Mykhol.
"I said, everyone," I repeat myself, "That also means, you, Cousin,"
"Consider your duties, is all I'm saying, Anastasia," Mykhol speaks with a slight edge in his tone."This is not what a ruler does."
"I said go, cousin," I repeat, waiting, not backing down. Mykhol continues to look after a moment, before sighing.
"Anastasia," Mykhol sighs but turns. His footsteps seem to drag as he walks. Mykhol stops last at the door to look back. "Stay, please." His voice is soft but I only turn, waiting to hear the door close behind him.
When Mykhol is for sure gone, I take the chance to breathe out, dropping the Queen's invite to the table, It softly lands though it felt so heavy just before.
I feel so drained from just that. I breathed out, It felt like weights on my arms, enough to pull my back. But it's not over.
I still have Nicoli's letter to do. I look over at the blue wax, lifting it up silently. Just seeing his handwriting makes my heart skip a little. It looks a bit cleaner now, his handship improved.
"Whatever makes you keep writing after everything?" I have to ask aloud. "It's clear you don't need the practice."
So why are you still doing it? Why?
What could you still try to be saying, after so many years of my silence? I hold the letter quietly, deciding if now was the time to find out.
"I guess…there's really nothing else I can lose." I go at last and move. My claw slices open the flap, finding two thickly written pieces of paper. Both are covered in writing, front to back.
The sight alone makes me laugh.
"Nicoli," What could you possibly be writing so much about? After all these years? I have to stop and take a breath, as my hand trembles. I'm anxious. Who knows what would be inside?
Please, I silently wish, closing my eyes, trying to ready myself for whatever it will be, good or bad. But whatever it is, it's time.
And I begin to read the first page.