Time, Death & Scar Tissue...
folder
1 through F › Forever Knight
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
52
Views:
2,515
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
1 through F › Forever Knight
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
52
Views:
2,515
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Forever Knight, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Family
42. Family
Kathryn turned to the left and then to the right as she looked at herself in the full length mirror on the closet door. The plum suit she and her grandmother had picked out looked much better than the jumper, and the full skirt would give her enough mobility to play with the girls. She took off the jacket and tried again to fasten the pendant around her neck. For some reason the clasp was simply not cooperating. She cursed under her breath when she just about got it. If she hadn't loved the pendant so much she would have simply worn her pearls. She tried again and again the clasp refused to catch only this time the pendant slipped out of her hands and fell to the floor with a dull thump. Kathryn swore more loudly this time as she bent over to pick it up.
“Kathryn?” She hadn't heard him come out of the bathroom and she blushed deeply.
“Sorry.” She said, unable to meet his eyes. He took the necklace from her hands and motioned for her to turn around. She did and he clasped it without a moment's trouble. That only made her feel worse. He held her jacket out for her and Kathryn put her arms in obediently, she buttoned it and turned to face him.
“Now you don't look like the rough sort you sounded like a moment ago.” She heard an edge of disapproval in his voice but his lips were soft as they brushed against her forehead.
“I guess I'm a little tense.” He stroked her cheek softly and then held her close.
“That's no reason to sound common.” Kathryn was blushing deeply, even though his voice was soft. She still didn't quite understand why his opinion mattered so much to her on a matter as small as a few off-color words. Anyone else she would have told to live with it. He lifted her chin. “It looks beautiful on you.” He said softly.
“You have wonderful taste in jewelry.” Kathryn smiled shyly.
“I have wonderful taste in everything.” Kathryn smiled a little, but she knew that he was perfectly serious. He was probably the most conceited man she had ever met in some ways. “Especially in women.” And then he said something like that, and the rest went out the window. Kathryn kissed him softly and rested against his chest for a few moments.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LaCroix went out as soon as the sun set and returned before any of Minerva's guests started arriving. They were as she had described them. Her sons David and Michael and their wives arrived first. The men were consumed by business, the women were somewhat neglected. The two women chatted amiably with Kathryn and Minerva about charity events and fashion and whose daughter was coming out, getting married or having babies. He noticed that Kathryn would blanch slightly at the mention of babies and he wondered if she felt the urge to motherhood. He could give her almost any object she wanted in the world, he could give her immortality, but he couldn't quicken life in her womb. In a way, that saddened him and that was an unfamiliar feeling for him. One of her aunts noticed Kathryn's discomfort and she changed the topic to some bit of gossip she had heard somewhere or other. It amazed him how the light conversation of women hadn't changed in centuries.
The men claimed to be eager for his views on politics, current events and to know what his business interests were. They couched it as curiosity, but it was obvious they were appraising him. He was surprised and somewhat appalled when David began speaking freely about Kathryn's financial affairs. He wondered if she knew that he felt so free to discuss her private matters with perfect strangers and he decided to tell her later. Michael did something with computers that he didn't understand. LaCroix was quite comfortable using technology, but he had no desire to know how or why it worked.
Harold and Jayne arrived next. Jayne was one of those pinched women who seemed perpetually displeased. She looked as if she was bored with the whole affair as soon as she walked in and she left her husband to deal with the children. The two little girls ran to Kathryn as soon as their coats were taken off and she scooped them up, one on each hip.
“You two are getting too big for me to pick you up this way.” She laughed and hugged the two identical children close. Minerva introduced him to the adults.
“Tell us a story.” One said of the little girls said to Kathryn.
“Can we have our presents now?” The other asked. Kathryn shook her head and kissed first one, then the other.
“We have to wait for everyone to get here before we can have presents or stories. Don't you think you ought to say hello to Gramma? She'll be awfully glad to see you.” Kathryn put the children down and they ran over to Minerva and she bent down to their level to hug and kiss each of them. Finally one of them looked up at him. Her dark blue eyes were as wide and trusting as Kathryn's were.
“Who are you?” She asked, looking up at him.
“I'm Lucien.” He said, keeping his distance. Even before his conversion children were usually afraid of him. When his own children were young there were always others around to care for them. Since his conversion the only child he had dealt with was Divia, and even in the beginning she could hardly be considered an ordinary child.
“I'm Allie and this is my LITTLE sister Molly.” She said very seriously and without the slightest hint of fear. “Are you going to marry Katie, cause she's our favorite cousin.” He looked over at Kathryn, who turned crimson.
“Allie, we don't ask our guests those kinds of questions.” Minerva said, taking the girls by the hand.
“Why not?” Allie asked, sounding frustrated that she wasn't going to get an answer. He imagined Kathryn sounded the same when she was a child.
“Because it isn't polite to ask strangers personal questions. Come and see what Santa left for you in your stockings.” Minerva led them away.
“I'm sorry.” Kathryn said softly. He laughed and stroked her blushing cheek. Marriage wasn't a concept that immortals embraced. The bond between sire and childe was stronger than any religious or civil contract anyway. She wouldn't be his because of a simple promise; she would be his by blood.
“They're children.” He said, smiling into his eyes. Kathryn's cousins arrived, each bringing a date. Minerva had been right about them providing entertainment. Amanda brought a man called George who easily old enough to be her father. Sarah brought someone who was studying to be a minister. Michael Junior brought a girl dressed in skirt that was too short and an ill-fitting old sweater. The prevailing opinion was that she was a prostitute, but he doubted that. The girl looked far too uncomfortable, the boy was completely oblivious though.
Gifts were exchanged next, and he noticed how right Kathryn had been about these being ordinary gifts. It also struck him how well the gifts she gave suited their recipients, but the ones she received seemed more suited to a stranger than a member of the family. The one exception was a simple silver bracelet from Minerva with the words 'Well-behaved women rarely make history' engraved on it.
Jayne made it known that she would be exchanging everything the next day and LaCroix wondered why Harold, who seemed embarrassed by her behavior, allowed it. The girls tossed aside their toys and new clothes for the books Kathryn gave them. Roman myths for Allie, Greek myths for Molly. Both were beautifully illustrated and Kathryn promised them a story after dinner if they behaved themselves during the meal.
“Must you encourage her?” He asked Minerva quietly as they walked in to dinner, a little smile on his lips.
“Somehow I think you'll be able to manage.” She laughed softly.
She was right about the questions, though she was much better at deflecting them than she gave herself credit for. The one thing she was not able to deflect was Jayne's imperious orders.
“What are you doing, Katie?” She asked when they sat down to dinner. “You have to sit with the girls.”
“Jayne, I can-” Harold started.
“Don't be stupid Harold.” She snapped. The rest of the party tried their best to appear to bed occupied in conversation, even though the woman was clearly making a spectacle of herself. “Katie always does it and she will this time too. Won't you dear.”
“Of course, Jayne.” She said softly and walked away from him with her eyes down.
“AUNT Jayne.” He couldn't believe that the woman was actually looking down at Kathryn.
“Aunt Jayne.” Kathryn said, moving down to where the girls were seated. LaCroix was struck by the familiarity of the scene and he was reluctant to let her go. Still, he could hardly indulge his instincts in front of the gathered relatives. He spent the rest of the meal observing Kathryn and half listening to the others chat about this or that. He learned Harold had always been rather shiftless, and now he was on to some new business venture that sounded perfectly ridiculous to LaCroix. Still, dinner was not the time to tell a man he hardly knew that he was coming off as a fool.
Michael the Younger admired Kathryn's separation from the stuffy mores of society, but he didn't have the grace to carry it off as she did. He almost felt sorry for the girl, Candace was her name. He had told her nothing about what the gathering would be like, not had he told her that she would look so out of place.
Matthew, the young minister in training, reminded him of Nicholas in some ways. He was idealistic and absolutely certain that he was in the right on all of his stances. From the reactions of her parents and the rest of the family it was apparent that he was not the sort she usually chose. He was, however, the sort that appealed to LaCroix. There was always something enticing about that which one couldn't have. He knew, without a doubt that if he were of a mind to make advances, this young man would refuse them. At first. It was a pleasant fantasy, when they got back perhaps he would find his own young minister. As exciting and passionate as Kathryn was, there were things she would never be able to provide him with.
George seemed inordinately interested in Kathryn and that clearly bothered Amanda, though for some reason she was angry at Kathryn, not George. LaCroix was not naïve, it was clear she had no deep feelings for the man, but she did seem very interested in getting her father's attention. Attention that seemed too costly for David to give. He followed his link with Kathryn until he could hear her conversation.
“So, tell me what you do, besides sit around and look gorgeous.” He asked. LaCroix was glad he was on the other side of the table from her. Jealousy was not an entirely new feeling for him, but it had been a very long time since he felt it so strongly. He could tell that it bothered her as well, to this point though she hadn't mentioned it. He knew it was something he would have to control before he brought her across, but at that moment all he could think of was coming between her and this man. From this distance though, there was nothing he could do.
“I write.” She was being polite, but concentrating on the children.
“Well that doesn't tell me much.” He laughed and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Don't be embarrassed Hon, you can tell me if you write romance novels, I promise not to tell.” She simply smiled.
“I don't write romance novels.” He was reminded of the first night that he met her. He concentrated and could hear her heart beating faster, but her exterior was as calm as ever.
“You're being awfully secretive.” He looked at her and smiled an oily smile. “Now let me see, fiesty little firecracker like you, I bet you write those, shall we say, adult stories.” He was grinning now and LaCroix didn't like the way his eyes slid over her.
“You seem to want to endow me with qualities I just don't have.” He noticed the natural way she took care of the girls too. Giving them what they needed almost before they asked. “I write perfectly dull little treatises on myth and folklore.” That seemed to stop him for a moment.
“What culture?” Matthew asked.
“A number of different cultures actually. So many peoples had similar archetypes and I've found it interesting to trace them back through time.” She responded smoothly. It was a description he would never have thought of for her work, but the more he thought about it, he realized how well it fit her understanding of her subject matter.
“Coffee and dessert in the sitting room.” Bridey announced.
The girls ran ahead into the sitting room, giggling and chasing after each other. It wasn't at all surprising considering the fact that they had just sat so quietly for so long.
“Katie.” Jayne called.
“Coming Aunt Jayne.” Kathryn said, moving past him.
“Kathryn, you're not her slave.” He held her arm. It was one thing for her to be subordinate to him, that was the natural order of things. It was quite another to see her ordered around by a woman who was less than no one.
“I know that, but I promised the girls a story anyway.” She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek softly. “It'll only be another hour or two.” He let her go reluctantly and followed her into the sitting room again. Bridey had picked up the wrapping papers and ribbons and there were cookies, slices of pie and coffee set out.
He watched Kathryn help the girls select one cookie each and then she took them into the small TV room, carrying their books. LaCroix stayed in the sitting room for a few minutes, long enough to see that everyone was engaged in their own conversations or arguments. Then he slipped across the hall, through the dining room and into the doorway of Minerva's small office. The shadows were the perfect place to observe her; even if she looked in his direction she wouldn't notice him.
She sat on the floor with them, her shoes off, her back against the sofa. One child sat on either side of her and he could tell that as much as she disliked Jayne, she loved these children. The first thing he heard was the controversy over whether or not Hades was mean for taking Persephone. It surprised him that children so young would know the story, but knowing Kathryn she had probably been telling them myths since they were born. He had to suppress a laugh when she told them her take on it.
“I don't think Hades was mean or scary. I think he was just shy.”
“Shy?” Allie asked.
“Yes. The way I see it, Hades was VERY busy, ruling over the whole underworld. In the rest of the world there were all kinds of gods and goddesses, but he had to do everything himself. That means he couldn't go to any of the great parties that Persephone went to. So, when it came time to talk to her, he didn't know what to say and he did something not very nice. I think that once Persephone got to know him though, she forgave him. But, since you both know that one so well, I thought maybe we could have a different one.” He noticed how the two of them looked at her with the same rapt attention. It struck him that the soft lighting in the room caught reddish highlights in their dark blond hair and for a moment he allowed himself to fantasize that these were his children, born to Kathryn. He crushed the thought when it became too painful and focused on how Kathryn seemed more at ease than she had all evening. “I thought maybe I would tell you the story of a set of twins, almost like you.”
“Almost?” Molly asked. Strange how easily he could tell them apart when he had known them for only a short time.
“Well these twins were boys.” All three wrinkled their noses and LaCroix had to suppress a laugh. “But they were very special boys because they founded what would become the Roman Empire.”
He was smiling a little as he listened to her tell the story of Romulus and Remus in terms small children could understand. As he watched, he allowed himself to get lost in the familiarity and warmth of the scene in front of him.
“They're beautiful, aren't they?” Minerva said softly. He hadn't noticed her approach and that was something very unusual about that. She wasn't looking at him though, she was watching Kathryn.
“Yes.” He said softly.
“Kathryn is my favorite grandchild, there's no secret about that, but those two are a very close second.” She said in a whisper as well.
“And will they end up in the family gallery one day?” He asked.
“Not in that gallery I'm afraid.” He noticed the sadness in her voice as she spoke. “Kathryn was the last one, the last recent one I should say.”
“Why is that?” He sensed she was trying to tell him something and he didn’t like to make assumptions about what that something was. She was silent and when he glanced down at her he found her eyes fixed on him. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Minerva-“
“I should be getting back to my guests. They’ll wonder where I’ve gone off to.” She turned and walked back into the office. He followed and grasped her arm lightly. Minerva turned to face him again, but there was no fear in her eyes.
“I was debating whether to give this to you or to Kathryn.” Minerva took several carefully persevered sheets of parchment out of a locked drawer.
“Why would there be a debate?” He asked, still assessing the situation.
“Because Kathryn doesn’t read French, and even if she did she would just regard this as an interesting document written by our first traceable ancestor. It’ll make sense to you.” She slid the sheets across the desk. LaCroix scanned the document quickly.
“I don’t see what this has to-“ He started.
“It was written by Fleur de Brabant.” LaCroix sat down slowly in the one available chair. If he had been mortal the color would have drained from his face. He knew he should say something, anything to deflect further questions. The look on Minerva’s face told him that anything he said would have a hollow ring to it. “If you miss people leaving I’ll just say you felt a little unwell.” Minerva left the key on the desk and left quietly.
LaCroix was almost hesitant to read the letter. It was addressed to a daughter and spoke of the girl’s upcoming marriage. Mixed in with the small details of dress and ceremony that had always accompanied weddings was a section that talked about her own great love. In detail, the brief time he had spent with her was recounted, as well as why they parted. Though she couched it in metaphor, she clearly remembered who and what he was in spite of best efforts to remove those memories. The rest of the letter was little bits of advice from mother to daughter about how to share a marital home and bed with a man one didn’t love.
For the first time since Nicholas’s final moments his eyes filled with tears. He set the pages aside and carefully locked them away again. The movement made it easier to get control again and he reminded himself that there would be time to question Minerva further. If an opportunity didn’t present itself he would make one.
Kathryn turned to the left and then to the right as she looked at herself in the full length mirror on the closet door. The plum suit she and her grandmother had picked out looked much better than the jumper, and the full skirt would give her enough mobility to play with the girls. She took off the jacket and tried again to fasten the pendant around her neck. For some reason the clasp was simply not cooperating. She cursed under her breath when she just about got it. If she hadn't loved the pendant so much she would have simply worn her pearls. She tried again and again the clasp refused to catch only this time the pendant slipped out of her hands and fell to the floor with a dull thump. Kathryn swore more loudly this time as she bent over to pick it up.
“Kathryn?” She hadn't heard him come out of the bathroom and she blushed deeply.
“Sorry.” She said, unable to meet his eyes. He took the necklace from her hands and motioned for her to turn around. She did and he clasped it without a moment's trouble. That only made her feel worse. He held her jacket out for her and Kathryn put her arms in obediently, she buttoned it and turned to face him.
“Now you don't look like the rough sort you sounded like a moment ago.” She heard an edge of disapproval in his voice but his lips were soft as they brushed against her forehead.
“I guess I'm a little tense.” He stroked her cheek softly and then held her close.
“That's no reason to sound common.” Kathryn was blushing deeply, even though his voice was soft. She still didn't quite understand why his opinion mattered so much to her on a matter as small as a few off-color words. Anyone else she would have told to live with it. He lifted her chin. “It looks beautiful on you.” He said softly.
“You have wonderful taste in jewelry.” Kathryn smiled shyly.
“I have wonderful taste in everything.” Kathryn smiled a little, but she knew that he was perfectly serious. He was probably the most conceited man she had ever met in some ways. “Especially in women.” And then he said something like that, and the rest went out the window. Kathryn kissed him softly and rested against his chest for a few moments.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LaCroix went out as soon as the sun set and returned before any of Minerva's guests started arriving. They were as she had described them. Her sons David and Michael and their wives arrived first. The men were consumed by business, the women were somewhat neglected. The two women chatted amiably with Kathryn and Minerva about charity events and fashion and whose daughter was coming out, getting married or having babies. He noticed that Kathryn would blanch slightly at the mention of babies and he wondered if she felt the urge to motherhood. He could give her almost any object she wanted in the world, he could give her immortality, but he couldn't quicken life in her womb. In a way, that saddened him and that was an unfamiliar feeling for him. One of her aunts noticed Kathryn's discomfort and she changed the topic to some bit of gossip she had heard somewhere or other. It amazed him how the light conversation of women hadn't changed in centuries.
The men claimed to be eager for his views on politics, current events and to know what his business interests were. They couched it as curiosity, but it was obvious they were appraising him. He was surprised and somewhat appalled when David began speaking freely about Kathryn's financial affairs. He wondered if she knew that he felt so free to discuss her private matters with perfect strangers and he decided to tell her later. Michael did something with computers that he didn't understand. LaCroix was quite comfortable using technology, but he had no desire to know how or why it worked.
Harold and Jayne arrived next. Jayne was one of those pinched women who seemed perpetually displeased. She looked as if she was bored with the whole affair as soon as she walked in and she left her husband to deal with the children. The two little girls ran to Kathryn as soon as their coats were taken off and she scooped them up, one on each hip.
“You two are getting too big for me to pick you up this way.” She laughed and hugged the two identical children close. Minerva introduced him to the adults.
“Tell us a story.” One said of the little girls said to Kathryn.
“Can we have our presents now?” The other asked. Kathryn shook her head and kissed first one, then the other.
“We have to wait for everyone to get here before we can have presents or stories. Don't you think you ought to say hello to Gramma? She'll be awfully glad to see you.” Kathryn put the children down and they ran over to Minerva and she bent down to their level to hug and kiss each of them. Finally one of them looked up at him. Her dark blue eyes were as wide and trusting as Kathryn's were.
“Who are you?” She asked, looking up at him.
“I'm Lucien.” He said, keeping his distance. Even before his conversion children were usually afraid of him. When his own children were young there were always others around to care for them. Since his conversion the only child he had dealt with was Divia, and even in the beginning she could hardly be considered an ordinary child.
“I'm Allie and this is my LITTLE sister Molly.” She said very seriously and without the slightest hint of fear. “Are you going to marry Katie, cause she's our favorite cousin.” He looked over at Kathryn, who turned crimson.
“Allie, we don't ask our guests those kinds of questions.” Minerva said, taking the girls by the hand.
“Why not?” Allie asked, sounding frustrated that she wasn't going to get an answer. He imagined Kathryn sounded the same when she was a child.
“Because it isn't polite to ask strangers personal questions. Come and see what Santa left for you in your stockings.” Minerva led them away.
“I'm sorry.” Kathryn said softly. He laughed and stroked her blushing cheek. Marriage wasn't a concept that immortals embraced. The bond between sire and childe was stronger than any religious or civil contract anyway. She wouldn't be his because of a simple promise; she would be his by blood.
“They're children.” He said, smiling into his eyes. Kathryn's cousins arrived, each bringing a date. Minerva had been right about them providing entertainment. Amanda brought a man called George who easily old enough to be her father. Sarah brought someone who was studying to be a minister. Michael Junior brought a girl dressed in skirt that was too short and an ill-fitting old sweater. The prevailing opinion was that she was a prostitute, but he doubted that. The girl looked far too uncomfortable, the boy was completely oblivious though.
Gifts were exchanged next, and he noticed how right Kathryn had been about these being ordinary gifts. It also struck him how well the gifts she gave suited their recipients, but the ones she received seemed more suited to a stranger than a member of the family. The one exception was a simple silver bracelet from Minerva with the words 'Well-behaved women rarely make history' engraved on it.
Jayne made it known that she would be exchanging everything the next day and LaCroix wondered why Harold, who seemed embarrassed by her behavior, allowed it. The girls tossed aside their toys and new clothes for the books Kathryn gave them. Roman myths for Allie, Greek myths for Molly. Both were beautifully illustrated and Kathryn promised them a story after dinner if they behaved themselves during the meal.
“Must you encourage her?” He asked Minerva quietly as they walked in to dinner, a little smile on his lips.
“Somehow I think you'll be able to manage.” She laughed softly.
She was right about the questions, though she was much better at deflecting them than she gave herself credit for. The one thing she was not able to deflect was Jayne's imperious orders.
“What are you doing, Katie?” She asked when they sat down to dinner. “You have to sit with the girls.”
“Jayne, I can-” Harold started.
“Don't be stupid Harold.” She snapped. The rest of the party tried their best to appear to bed occupied in conversation, even though the woman was clearly making a spectacle of herself. “Katie always does it and she will this time too. Won't you dear.”
“Of course, Jayne.” She said softly and walked away from him with her eyes down.
“AUNT Jayne.” He couldn't believe that the woman was actually looking down at Kathryn.
“Aunt Jayne.” Kathryn said, moving down to where the girls were seated. LaCroix was struck by the familiarity of the scene and he was reluctant to let her go. Still, he could hardly indulge his instincts in front of the gathered relatives. He spent the rest of the meal observing Kathryn and half listening to the others chat about this or that. He learned Harold had always been rather shiftless, and now he was on to some new business venture that sounded perfectly ridiculous to LaCroix. Still, dinner was not the time to tell a man he hardly knew that he was coming off as a fool.
Michael the Younger admired Kathryn's separation from the stuffy mores of society, but he didn't have the grace to carry it off as she did. He almost felt sorry for the girl, Candace was her name. He had told her nothing about what the gathering would be like, not had he told her that she would look so out of place.
Matthew, the young minister in training, reminded him of Nicholas in some ways. He was idealistic and absolutely certain that he was in the right on all of his stances. From the reactions of her parents and the rest of the family it was apparent that he was not the sort she usually chose. He was, however, the sort that appealed to LaCroix. There was always something enticing about that which one couldn't have. He knew, without a doubt that if he were of a mind to make advances, this young man would refuse them. At first. It was a pleasant fantasy, when they got back perhaps he would find his own young minister. As exciting and passionate as Kathryn was, there were things she would never be able to provide him with.
George seemed inordinately interested in Kathryn and that clearly bothered Amanda, though for some reason she was angry at Kathryn, not George. LaCroix was not naïve, it was clear she had no deep feelings for the man, but she did seem very interested in getting her father's attention. Attention that seemed too costly for David to give. He followed his link with Kathryn until he could hear her conversation.
“So, tell me what you do, besides sit around and look gorgeous.” He asked. LaCroix was glad he was on the other side of the table from her. Jealousy was not an entirely new feeling for him, but it had been a very long time since he felt it so strongly. He could tell that it bothered her as well, to this point though she hadn't mentioned it. He knew it was something he would have to control before he brought her across, but at that moment all he could think of was coming between her and this man. From this distance though, there was nothing he could do.
“I write.” She was being polite, but concentrating on the children.
“Well that doesn't tell me much.” He laughed and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Don't be embarrassed Hon, you can tell me if you write romance novels, I promise not to tell.” She simply smiled.
“I don't write romance novels.” He was reminded of the first night that he met her. He concentrated and could hear her heart beating faster, but her exterior was as calm as ever.
“You're being awfully secretive.” He looked at her and smiled an oily smile. “Now let me see, fiesty little firecracker like you, I bet you write those, shall we say, adult stories.” He was grinning now and LaCroix didn't like the way his eyes slid over her.
“You seem to want to endow me with qualities I just don't have.” He noticed the natural way she took care of the girls too. Giving them what they needed almost before they asked. “I write perfectly dull little treatises on myth and folklore.” That seemed to stop him for a moment.
“What culture?” Matthew asked.
“A number of different cultures actually. So many peoples had similar archetypes and I've found it interesting to trace them back through time.” She responded smoothly. It was a description he would never have thought of for her work, but the more he thought about it, he realized how well it fit her understanding of her subject matter.
“Coffee and dessert in the sitting room.” Bridey announced.
The girls ran ahead into the sitting room, giggling and chasing after each other. It wasn't at all surprising considering the fact that they had just sat so quietly for so long.
“Katie.” Jayne called.
“Coming Aunt Jayne.” Kathryn said, moving past him.
“Kathryn, you're not her slave.” He held her arm. It was one thing for her to be subordinate to him, that was the natural order of things. It was quite another to see her ordered around by a woman who was less than no one.
“I know that, but I promised the girls a story anyway.” She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek softly. “It'll only be another hour or two.” He let her go reluctantly and followed her into the sitting room again. Bridey had picked up the wrapping papers and ribbons and there were cookies, slices of pie and coffee set out.
He watched Kathryn help the girls select one cookie each and then she took them into the small TV room, carrying their books. LaCroix stayed in the sitting room for a few minutes, long enough to see that everyone was engaged in their own conversations or arguments. Then he slipped across the hall, through the dining room and into the doorway of Minerva's small office. The shadows were the perfect place to observe her; even if she looked in his direction she wouldn't notice him.
She sat on the floor with them, her shoes off, her back against the sofa. One child sat on either side of her and he could tell that as much as she disliked Jayne, she loved these children. The first thing he heard was the controversy over whether or not Hades was mean for taking Persephone. It surprised him that children so young would know the story, but knowing Kathryn she had probably been telling them myths since they were born. He had to suppress a laugh when she told them her take on it.
“I don't think Hades was mean or scary. I think he was just shy.”
“Shy?” Allie asked.
“Yes. The way I see it, Hades was VERY busy, ruling over the whole underworld. In the rest of the world there were all kinds of gods and goddesses, but he had to do everything himself. That means he couldn't go to any of the great parties that Persephone went to. So, when it came time to talk to her, he didn't know what to say and he did something not very nice. I think that once Persephone got to know him though, she forgave him. But, since you both know that one so well, I thought maybe we could have a different one.” He noticed how the two of them looked at her with the same rapt attention. It struck him that the soft lighting in the room caught reddish highlights in their dark blond hair and for a moment he allowed himself to fantasize that these were his children, born to Kathryn. He crushed the thought when it became too painful and focused on how Kathryn seemed more at ease than she had all evening. “I thought maybe I would tell you the story of a set of twins, almost like you.”
“Almost?” Molly asked. Strange how easily he could tell them apart when he had known them for only a short time.
“Well these twins were boys.” All three wrinkled their noses and LaCroix had to suppress a laugh. “But they were very special boys because they founded what would become the Roman Empire.”
He was smiling a little as he listened to her tell the story of Romulus and Remus in terms small children could understand. As he watched, he allowed himself to get lost in the familiarity and warmth of the scene in front of him.
“They're beautiful, aren't they?” Minerva said softly. He hadn't noticed her approach and that was something very unusual about that. She wasn't looking at him though, she was watching Kathryn.
“Yes.” He said softly.
“Kathryn is my favorite grandchild, there's no secret about that, but those two are a very close second.” She said in a whisper as well.
“And will they end up in the family gallery one day?” He asked.
“Not in that gallery I'm afraid.” He noticed the sadness in her voice as she spoke. “Kathryn was the last one, the last recent one I should say.”
“Why is that?” He sensed she was trying to tell him something and he didn’t like to make assumptions about what that something was. She was silent and when he glanced down at her he found her eyes fixed on him. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Minerva-“
“I should be getting back to my guests. They’ll wonder where I’ve gone off to.” She turned and walked back into the office. He followed and grasped her arm lightly. Minerva turned to face him again, but there was no fear in her eyes.
“I was debating whether to give this to you or to Kathryn.” Minerva took several carefully persevered sheets of parchment out of a locked drawer.
“Why would there be a debate?” He asked, still assessing the situation.
“Because Kathryn doesn’t read French, and even if she did she would just regard this as an interesting document written by our first traceable ancestor. It’ll make sense to you.” She slid the sheets across the desk. LaCroix scanned the document quickly.
“I don’t see what this has to-“ He started.
“It was written by Fleur de Brabant.” LaCroix sat down slowly in the one available chair. If he had been mortal the color would have drained from his face. He knew he should say something, anything to deflect further questions. The look on Minerva’s face told him that anything he said would have a hollow ring to it. “If you miss people leaving I’ll just say you felt a little unwell.” Minerva left the key on the desk and left quietly.
LaCroix was almost hesitant to read the letter. It was addressed to a daughter and spoke of the girl’s upcoming marriage. Mixed in with the small details of dress and ceremony that had always accompanied weddings was a section that talked about her own great love. In detail, the brief time he had spent with her was recounted, as well as why they parted. Though she couched it in metaphor, she clearly remembered who and what he was in spite of best efforts to remove those memories. The rest of the letter was little bits of advice from mother to daughter about how to share a marital home and bed with a man one didn’t love.
For the first time since Nicholas’s final moments his eyes filled with tears. He set the pages aside and carefully locked them away again. The movement made it easier to get control again and he reminded himself that there would be time to question Minerva further. If an opportunity didn’t present itself he would make one.