*Ana*
"What?" My breath catches before my eyes dart up at her tall frame. Her oval face is stiff and unreadable. But her words–
"A carriage from Dawny has arrived?" I repeat.
"Yes, they just pulled in," Aunt Funda fumbles, her voice wavering higher than she meant to. Her hands twitch and flex before forcing themselves to rest against her tunic as though to stop.
She shifts on her feet. Her thin lips flexed between a frown and a line. As if not excited by the news but more concerned that it was even happening in the first place.
But how could that be? This is the moment I've been waiting for!
Father and Nicoli are here! At last! I can barely keep in my chair. The news– the anticipation I've held onto this whole week is all surging to the surface. My lips part and close against the question before I even know what I'm saying. I fidget, making the gold chains chime as I move.
"And, where are they now?" I blink up at her, anxious.
Funda's cranberry eyes flick at the arched window behind my desk– as if she could see them from here. This is wrong because the window faced the rose garden, not the front entrance. But she lingers there a beat before pressing in her lips.
"We are settling the luggage and rooms now."She says, the words rushing out. Her eyes flicked down the room again. Looking and resting on Mykhol, sitting on the opposite camelback sofa from Hidi in my study. His cup of coffee was frozen in his hand. His vermillion eyes are slightly wide, but his mouth is closed. As if he, too, seemed to be taking in the news.
Not sure how to respond.
But wait—what did she just say? A word catches my attention, and I look back at her.
"Settling?" I mirror before sitting up straighter, the polished wood cool beneath my fingertips. "What do you mean by settle—no, that's not correct." My head wags, heat creeping up my cheeks. They shouldn't be taken to their rooms. That wasn't how things were done. Not the proper decorum.
Father and Nicoli were royals first. Particular graces should have been in motion.
In fact, now that I think about it– I stared up at my aunt in confused disbelief.
"What about the welcoming ceremony? They should be greeted- no, why am I only hearing about this now?" My hands push up against the smooth wood of my desk. "This- no, we need to go greet them first and -"
Mykhol's voice cuts through, smooth and deliberate. "It's fine, Anastasia."
"Fine?" I turn to see him now moving. He sets his cup down with a measured grace, though the slight clink against the saucer betrays a slight waver of his hand. Rising to rub a hand down to smooth the wrinkles of his tunic, he flashes his infamous smile again. His stupor is over as he seems to be collected again.
"Anyway, I'm sure they just showed up randomly," Vermillion eyes slide lazing over his mother, making her shoulders drop a little as if a calming effect. Funda does seem to nod a little at that as if needing it.
"Just like Her Majesty." He dips his head with a shallow but remindful bow to the giant. Remembering her presence. His voice was as sweet as his while staying in place. "Not that I'm saying we aren't happy to have you too, your highness."
Hidi snatches a cookie from the tray and bites it down casually with her blunt teeth. It disappears in two bites before she grins. "None taken." She leans back to the sofa. Her large hoopskirt expanded and stole even more space on the white sofa, already dwarfed by her giant form, as if she needed to take as much as she could as part of her personality.
She shrugs. "I like surprises."
"Do you?" Mykhol hums, his vermillion eyes sparking with something veiled. "Well, at least you were early. They are the last to show up." He lifts his hand, inspecting his claws with idle disinterest. " Not that I'm surprised."
My brows lift. "Not surprised?" What did that mean?
I meet his gaze. Mykhol regards me for a moment. His smile is still present, but it feels a little tighter. I have noticed this since our fight about the scarf days ago.
Neither of us has mentioned it since then, and if I just focus on his actions, Mykhol still seems to behave the same. He insists on being close, unable to bear leaving my side if I want to walk the halls or try again for the rose garden (which is quite a feat now with the sudden popularity of the lords). He always wants to do things together—that's why he's here with me and Hidi for coffee.
But every now and then, I catch a glimpse beneath his mask and sense that something is off. It's always subtle, like his remark—almost cruel but not quite. Perhaps it's a harsher version of the truth. His tone is sharp, but then it's gone again. He is back like before.
It can happen so quickly, and sometimes, I wonder if it was really there or if I simply misheard things. I probably did. Mykhol wouldn't still be mad at me, not because I refused the scarf—that would be silly. It's been days since then, and it was just a scarf. Nothing serious. I'm sure it's nothing.
Touching the hem of my shawl, I see Mykhol smirk.
"Well, yes," Mykhol replies with a shrug. "Do you blame me? I mean, I nearly planned for them not to come at all since they were so late."
The suggestion makes my stomach lurch.
"Wouldn't come?" The words fall out barely louder than a whisper. The thought had never crossed my mind before. The idea that both father and Nicoli wouldn't— it twists something painfully in my chest. A bad memory of how things were. The quiet misery of living day after day with only myself. Hoping for nothing. Numb. Thinking I was all alone and–
But no, we are over that. Father has forgiven me. And Nicoli– no, things are better now. He wouldn't stay away. Even a blood-lust wouldn't stop him from trying.
And they are here. That is proof enough. Things are better now. And will be. My heart beats
"Cousin, of course they would.-" But a flash of yellow blinds my vision. Then a warm hand is stealing mine up, tugging sharply. Barely allowing me to stumble forward around the desk before she's booming. Her voice is high and straightforward as it cuts through the air.
"Come Ana!" She's grinning down at me with all her blunt white teeth, breathless and excited. The force of her joy is infectious and overpowering as she yanks me along.
"Hidi-" Since when were giants so fast! I barely keep up with her neck-breaking pace. Her incredible legs take enormous strides as she rushes. I glance back, catching the sight of the two left behind. Mykhol stands frozen, lips parted as though in mid-protest, while my aunt is motionless. Her hands were on her chest, and she held her tunic in shock.
Of course, Hidi doesn't care about waiting for them. She is already surging forward, tagging me along as we barrel down the white halls. Her crinoline swung in wide berth, making servants have to duck out of the way. Her loud stomps echo and bounce against the high ceiling as she turns on a dime to make for the next corner.
Hidi is smiling ear to ear as she declares. "I can't wait to see him!"
"My Father?" I ask, struggling to keep my breath. She makes a face before snorting.
"No, Nicoli. Who else?" Hidi laughs, careless. "I'm going to give him such a hug."
"Hidi?" The confession surprises. Are they really that close? A curl of unease came up my chest at the idea. The same way I did when I found out they wrote each other.
But just as quickly, I shake the thought away. This is Hidi, remember?
She hugs everyone. That has been my impression so far. Hidi can be pretty insensitive regarding personal boundaries, after all. Nevertheless, I share her excitement.
"Yes, Nicoli," I go, a smile pulling up between catching my breath. My heart flutters in my chest as Hidi bounds around the corner, and we are even closer. I can already imagine him.
It hasn't been too long, but I can't help but wonder after him. Will I be taller than Nicoli now? I've grown, after all. Would he be surprised? I finally look older than him. At least, I hope so.
But as we slow down to the last corner, the main lobby is now in view. We both seem to dim at the sight. It's red hair. Vampires. Not a sign of their brunette hair. No tall, broad-shouldered man with a full beard or impish smile of a 9-year-old boy. There was no sign of the infamous sapphire eyes. Just red. Vampires. Only servants and curious nobles fill the space.
Hidi's clicking heels take on a more steady pace as we cross the tiled floor. Sunlight shines through the glass doors, left open for the scurrying servants to carry in trunks and luggage, barring Dawny's blue seal.
Yet there is no sign of them.
Her yellow braid whips as her head spins sharply, eyes bouncing around the space."Where's Nicoli?"
She finally let go to swing entirely around. Her crinoline swung against her hips to take up space as she rocked. "Where is my Nicoli?'
My Nicoli? I blink, sensing that the choice of words feels a bit unexpected. But then again, I'm quick to let it go because this is Hidi. Everything she shares is meant to be taken with a pinch of salt.
She reminds me of Mykhol in this way– Hidi stops as she locks onto the tall human and makes his way through the silver and glass doors. His suit is as clean and neat as his posture. His pale brown eyes light up in recognition as he finds us amongst the growing crowd of onlookers.
My breath catches as I recognize him. He is my father's servant.
"Johan," I greet him and see him respond with a small but warm smile.
He comes to a quick stop and offers a respectful bow.
Johan bows deeply, his smile tinged with fondness. Making me feel easier. "Your Highness Hildenberg, Your Empress Anastasia,"
Hidi, however, blinks after him a moment, unsure. Then, just as quickly snorts sharply after him. "Who the devil are you?"
Johan barely thins his smile but doesn't lose it. Just standing straighter at her unceremonious behavior, almost unsurprised. He turns back to her.
"Your Highness, I am his majesty's butler, Johan-"
"Yeah, yeah," Hidi waved him off, craning her neck around to search behind him. " Where is the prince?"
Johan blinks, almost confused. "Prince Nicoli?"
"He came, right?"She turns to me, expecting my support."You said you invited him, right?"
"I did-" Of course, I would. But not seeing him here, doubt knots in my chest. Concerned, I have to look back at him.
"Johan, where is my brother?" My question is simple enough, but Johan's expression shifts like a shadow. His wrinkles deepen as he struggles to keep some semblance of candor.
"I'm sorry, but Her Majesty insisted Prince Nicoli is too young to leave–"
"He didn't come?" My sudden elation pops as I feel myself sink back to the ground. I try desperately to hide the pain in my face, the devastation at the news. But the ache building in my chest at the idea I won't get to see–
"Of course, that's right. He is young." I go, trying to collect myself. "Nicoli couldn't…" The words feel heavy on my tongue.
"But His Majesty, the king is here." Johan quickly adds, as if reconciling. And it does work.
"Father?" I peer behind him but don't see anyone. My father is still not here.
Hidi, meanwhile, just huffs, crossing her arms.
"Damn it." She grumbles under her breath. "I wanted to see him."
"The king? Where-" I steal my eyes back to Johan. His gaze softens after me as if already knowing.
"Some place your mother loved very much."
Some place my mother– I gasp, suddenly realizing there is only one place. Did he go there? But it's freezing outside. How could he-
"Excuse me, Hidi." I barely push the words out before I turn to see Mykhol and Aunt Funda coming up.
Mykhol stops midway, walking into the lobby. But I don't have time to speak. Just rush past him, inadvertently passing Aunt Funda and Uncle, who stand behind him.
"Ana, wait, where are you-" Mykhol calls, but I don't stop. Can't. My heart is racing as the tears are filling up my eyes. I don't even bother to dress warmly, simply pushing past to rush out the side glass doors in the hall. Immediately finding a rush of bitter autumn air. It throws my shawl backward, clicking my chains together. A flood of dead leaves and salt fills my senses as I halt in the doorway.
"Father!" I call out, but there is nothing—only silence. The icy air bites at my exposed arms, but it doesn't stop me. My heart is racing too fast for anything else to matter. My mission is clear as my eyes work over the empty labyrinth ahead.
But there is no sight of him by the entrance. He must be further inside.
Without thought, my feet charge ahead, kicking up rocks and yellow grass as I dive deeper between the brittle bushes. The roses are all gone, left with just remains of their vines and dried-out leaves. But there is still something to find within. Someone who makes my heart race at the very idea that he was here.
He is waiting for me. Me.
I just needed to find him.
The cold is insistent, sinking into my skin, making it red and angry. My nose stings, dripping from the nipping air. But still, I press on. My eyes flick desperately between the gaps in the hedges, each corner teasing a glimpse of his familiar form–his blue eyes. His full beard smile. His gentle embrace–
"Father, where are you?" It doesn't dawn on me until the hot water warms my cheeks. Tears are rolling down. Overwhelmed like the thrashing of my heart–desperate to find him. To be together once again. Like my whole world depended on it.
And maybe it did? My world is so tiny. And for so long, it was just me. Too long—a memory comes back, barely old enough to forget. The same emptiness I used to know all too well. The endless days, wishing, hoping, the loneliness–
I know it's all over, part of the past now. But still, something will remain in the back of my heart—a soft reminder of how things were and how far I've come now.
Now that he is here. "Father, where—" I turn and look, but I don't see him.
Is he gone? Maybe Johan was wrong? Did he go back inside? I don't see him. Have I missed him?
"Father, where are-"
"Now, what did I say?"
A deep, warm voice, now unmistakable like laughter at the edge of each word, pierces the air. It's bright and powerful, like a sunbeam breaking through the clouds, causing me to spin so rapidly that I nearly lose my balance.
Emerging from behind a hedge, his sapphire eyes shine against the pale sky. His board shoulders were strong and firm like I remembered. His cloak draped over him, making him appear bigger and firmer. Like he was the only thing to hold onto when nothing else stayed, specks of silver are in his beard–were they there before? I don't remember. But his eyes–those wonderful eyes–my heart lunches up. They are smiling even before his lips spread into a great grin. The same strength and warmth soften, washing over me when his eyes meet mine.
He smiles just as if I just saw him yesterday.
"I said call me Papa."
"Pa-" I feel the wind knock out of me before it comes crashing back with all the force in my lungs.
"Papa!"
I'm running, gravel and grass kicking up behind me as I rush closer, my shawl flapping back, nearly falling off from the sudden lurch. But it doesn't matter. I can't care. My arms are up and around him. His arms engulfed me and pulled me in a tight hold. Swallowing me over in his warmth and hardy smell of soap and wood.
He's real. He's here. He came.
"Papa!" I bury my face into his chest, filling my senses with his scent. My words muffled into his great thick cloak. His heartbeat thuds steadily beneath my ear, strong and sure. Pulling out a knot I didn't realize I had since I left. But now, it pulls undone. My claws clutch into his cloak, holding onto him like he could vanish.
Above me, he laughs. A low rumbling sound that I wished I could always hear. Wanted to. His arms tighten around me, one hand shifting under my shawl to weave into my braid, cradling me to him. It was as if he used to do it all the time as if I was still just a child.
"My baby girl," he murmurs, heavy with reverence. Love.
Tears come harder now. All the fear I've held, the waiting, the bad memories, and uncertainty–it pours out in heavy sobs into his cloak. I don't try to stop. Reel back. And he doesn't tell me otherwise, just holding me tighter, rocking me. Being together was all that mattered.
"Papa, you came."
"I know, honey." He whispers back, stroking my hair with calloused fingers. Lightly pulling at the strands but ever careful. Gentle. "I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere."
His words sound so sure. Part of me wants to believe. To believe in them. Every beat of my heart cries for it to be true. And for a moment, I find myself wanting to believe it all over again. Just like I used to do so long ago. Maybe I can. But as I lift my head to see him–
Father stops as he shifts his head. He stiffens completely. His arms harden around me. It's so subtle I would have missed it if we weren't pressed together. His arms don't let go, but there is tension. His chest falls into a quiet and measured breath as the laughter quiets.
What's wrong? Confused, I pull back Father to find his gaze. He isn't looking at me but past me. His expression dropping to something I'm not familiar with. It's guarded. His blue eyes darkening at the sight.
"Papa?" I furrow before finding his direction, my eyes catching a shift at the very edge of the garden.
It's them. They are here.
Duke Zaver stands in the front of the group. But instead of approaching, they seem to be watching simply. Even Zaver, as aggressively talkative as he always is, is rather stilled, composed now. He only dipping his head with the others with a measured bow. Red eyes lifted back to meet me and then him.
That's…different? I note before glancing back to find Father's jaws set. The warmth of his gaze was gone, replaced and locked away behind something still and unreadable. His blue eyes grew darker after them.
It's not a look I could think he be able to make.
"Papa?" I whisper, but he doesn't hear me. Not yet, anyway.
He keeps his eyes on them before his hands find my shoulders, lightly squeezing as if to anchor himself. Then, finally, his gaze comes back to me. The darkness shifted to soften once more as if by my face alone.
"It's alright," he assures, though something has changed. The warmth in his voice is stiff. It was as if he wasn't talking to me so much, but maybe he was himself now. "I'm here now. And…" His voice drifts off as his gaze lifts back to the faces. Foucused on them for a long moment as if to remember faces.
Faces that he didn't seem too happy see.
His jaw tightens before he stands, taking my hand into his.
"I'm gonna make things all right." His fingers curl around mine. "Because Daddy's here now."