So, let's see where this will lead Iana as the fourth chapter of her story continues.
Of course, Mother was already with Father, standing outside the door of his study ready to greet the debt collectors in that precise, perfect way of hers. One of the winterguards or my Aunties must have informed her. Of course, she led them straight inside, treating them like important noble dignitaries. And then, of course, she stopped me and Joli from entering, telling us to return to our duties.
Well, if she expected me to obediently leave, she was in for a surprise.
I wouldn't go meekly, and let her and father face this alone. I'd let all these secrets remain secrets far too long. If Winding's fate rested in the hands, or should I say claws, of such disagreeable men I wasn't going to stand by without doing anything, just expect someone else to take care of the problem. Never again. I'd learned how disastrous that could be when I was cursed. As my sixteenth birthday had approached I naively still believed someone else would save me. If not for luck, I might have really slept for a hundred years like Aunt Luna said I would.
I looked at Joli, sensing in her the same decision.
"I'm going in." I told her.
"I'm going with you," she replied at once. We needed no other words; we were already of the same mind.
Together we pushed our way past the winterguards, ignoring their protests, and together we barged straight into Father's study.
The sight within hardly strengthened my resolve. It's such a pity. Father's study was once quite grand, lined in tapestries and shelves of books, stately portraits and exquisite woodworking. Cushions piled high on the elegant couches and gold varnish on the chairs and a lacquered desktop with onyx and turtle shell from the north. All that was gone now. The portraits covered over, the book shelves bare and the room itself sealed to keep out the mice and pigeons. The royal suites were hardly inhabitable anymore. The room we now called Father's study used to be a storage room. It was quite drafty inside. The windows rattled loudly. They had no glass, only shutters. His desk was now a rickety old table, with weather worn chairs, thin cushions, and only a flimsy shelf against the wall filled with ledgers. Most of Father's books were sold off. Only a few remained, kept in storage in the library with old tax records.
Father merely looked up from his desk as we entered, his face has aged so much the last few weeks.
"We would like to be present for your discussion, or negotiations, whatever they are." I told him, not looking at my mother on purpose.
It took a lot of doing to ruffle my mother, I could tell she was livid at our intrusion, but she contained it. "This is really not the time, or place for either of you." Mother began, her eyes narrowing at us.
I lifted my chin. "We insist upon it. We're not leaving."
Joli stood beside me, one hand squeezed my arm. "We're not leaving," she repeated.
The Lion seemed quite amused at all this, while his companion, the wolf was clearly uncomfortable by our presence.
"Oh, why not." The Lion declared, grinning at us. "There's no reason to exclude them. I like a girl with spirit." He bowed his head toward me.
I felt slightly sick at his complement, but like mother, suppressed the emotion.
Father cleared his throat, "Then let us get on with it."
"Yes," the Lion turned back to Father. "It is time to settle matters, I'm sure you're aware, the Kings have been quite patient with you. In that you have been lucky, good sir. However, there will be no more patience, no more delays, or excuses, not now that your daughters have returned. The Kings will have recompense for the gift bestowed so graciously upon you. Since you have so little to offer in this realm, they have decided instead that you must give them one of your own."
"One of my-" Father turned quite pale as he looked over at me and Joli.
I couldn't blame him.
to be continued . . .
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