Chapter 7
Irmara paced the marble floors of the northeast wheat manor, her clicking heels echoing through the spacious room. She clutched her hands in front of her and stepped to peer out the window again. She was nervous, a feeling she rarely felt anymore, and couldn't pinpoint why. She was to meet a child. A small one, at that. How many children had she met over the years? Not only her two and her other grandchildren, but all the children she treated on the ranches, all those she healed. It was ridiculous to be nervous to meet one more. Ah, but none of those other children were Tenet's.
Nada flipped the page of the entry book and studied the next column of numbers, checking the books on the accounts for the wheat ranch. Her mother's constant pacing was grating on her last nerve and she sighed heavily. "Sit down!" she snapped. "You're giving me a migraine."
Irmara shot her daughter a dry look. "You cannot get a migraine from the sound of me pacing."
Nada leaned back in her chair and fluttered her hand in front of her face. "Then stress. You are giving me stress! You know that's not good for me."
Irmara stared at her daughter with haughty contempt. Had she really raised such a spoiled woman? Nada fanned herself and turned a sulky glare at her mother, and Irmara had to look away. She long ago gave up caring about Nada's antics. "Then call your husband and have him bring you your pills," she said dully.
Nada frowned. "I do not need pills," she snapped. "I simply need you to stop pacing. I don't know why you're so nervous to meet the little heathen."
Irmara rounded on her daughter. "Don't you say that!"
Nada's eyes went wide. Her mother never broke her composure like that, and for a moment she didn't know what to do. "It's...it's no more than the truth," she sputtered, saying what they'd all been saying for months while her father planned the rescue.
Irmara tucked an errant lock of hair back in place, noticing her hands were shaking. She would not give her daughter the satisfaction of seeing her come unglued, she simply would not! "You will not forget that she is also your brother's daughter and your one and only niece," she said coolly.
Nada let out a small snort. "A bastard born to a witch," she said, snapping the ledger closed. "Don't worry, Mother," she said before her mother could get started again. "I'll play the nice aunt. But if you think I'll let her taint my own children..."
"Yes," said her mother. "Wouldn't it be a shame if one of them actually started to develop a personality?"
Nada's eyes went wide and she stood up. "I understand that this is a stressful time for you, Mother, but I will not stand by while you disparage your real grandchildren!" She spun around and stomped from the room, calling for her husband, Merle, to bring her some pills.
Irmara sighed with relief. She didn't like to speak badly of any child, especially her own grandchildren. But the twins were about as intelligent as a ball of yarn, and she had more fun watching the harvester shake the cornstalks than she did spending the afternoon with the four year olds. She often wondered how they could be so dull when she stared at their blank eyes while they picked their noses or drooled. Nada was a fun child. Well, active, at any rate. She could hardly ever have called Nada fun. Still, she did things when she was younger. Maybe it was Tenet the whole time. Maybe Tenet was the one to push her, to make her get up and play. Would Tenet's child be boring? She couldn't imagine he'd have a boring child. She felt a prick on the back of her hand and looked down, shocked to find it came from her own finger nails clenching tight. She instantly dropped her hands and ordered herself to calm down.
The sound of a transport approaching made Irmara jump and run to the window. So much for calming down! The hover plane kicked up great clouds of dust as it landed, and she found it impossible to see through. She sighed and turned, quickly making her way through the great house to the door where she could get her first look at the grandchild she never thought she'd be able to meet. She waited, drawing on the years of practice she spent by her husband's demanding side to get her through the next few anxious minutes. When she was about ready to scream and stomp in frustration, the door opened and a gust of dusty air filled the immaculate room.
"Oh Bradwin!" she chided, shielding her face. "Must they land it so close?"
"Hush yourself, Irmara," he said, pulling the little girl through the door and slamming it shut against the wind. It certainly was not the dignified entrance he had hoped for, and no doubt Irmara would gripe for months about the ruined finish on the floors. But it could not be helped. "There's press near the road. Press! How the hell did they catch wind of this?" He peeked out the window, trying to squint past the dust cloud and get a sense of how many media whores were at the gate. "Confound it, woman! I asked you how they know? Did you go running your mouth to your..." his words trailed off when he turned and looked at his wife. Irmara was thunderstruck, and that was something he hadn't seen in her for years. He blinked and looked down at his granddaughter. The little girl simply stood there looking lost and scared, but at the same time, very curious.
"Oh," Irmara said as she stared at the dark eyed little girl. Tenet's child. She felt a well of emotion bubble up and had to catch herself. "Oh, Bradwin. She doesn't look a thing like him!" Much to Bradwin's surprise, his wife was smiling. And were those tears in her eyes?
Irmara took a step closer to the little girl. She was terrified, but there was something else there in her eyes, a sharpness, a depth, a spark of life. The girl was scared, but she was thinking. "I'm your grandmother," Irmara said, taking another step closer.
"I want my Da," Violet said, her lip shaking.
Irmara's breath hitched in her chest. Her Da, Tenet. Tenet was truly a father. She always knew he would be, even though no woman had wanted him. She always knew he would be a father, and a far better one than she or he had known in their own childhoods. "I know, Violet," Irmara said carefully. "I would very much like to see your Da, too."
Bradwin scoffed. "Oh, for goodness sake. Now you're getting that mothering spark? Now that's it's thirty years too late?"
Leave it to Bradwin to kill a beautiful moment. Irmara felt the ice settle in her veins. Of course he would kill it. He would take any ounce of beauty and kindness in the world and crush it under his foot and laugh the whole time. Irmara held her hand out to Violet. "Come, Violet. You are a sight and you must be cleaned."
Violet didn't want to go with the lady, but she wanted to stay with her grandfather even less. She took the woman's hand and let her lead her through an enormous building, the likes of which she had never seen. The closest thing she could think of was the hotel lobby in Nortaberg. "Is this a hotel?"
Irmara let herself laugh. "No, this is one of our homes."
"You live here?"
"Yes."
Violet looked around in wonder. "Where's the water pump?"
Irmara stopped. "Water pump?"
"Yeah, to get water."
"Goodness, we don't use water pumps. We have taps."
Violet's face crinkled. "Taps?"
"Oh heavens me. They said life up there was rustic. I didn't know how bad. Yes, child. Taps. You turn the knob and water pours out. Now, come with me and you can see for yourself in a nice, hot bubble bath."
"What's a bubble bath?"
Irmara groaned. This was going to be a far greater challenge than she thought. "Enid!" she called, searching for her maid.
"Yes, ma'am?" a woman said, popping out of a room. She saw Violet and her eyes went wide.
"Enid, we need to take my granddaughter into the bathroom and get her scrubbed up immediately."
"Yes ma'am," the woman said quickly, then raced ahead of them.
"Is Enid my aunt?" Violet asked.
Irmara blanched at the very thought. "Goodness, no! Where ever did you get an idea like that?"
"My grandfather said I would meet you and my aunt."
"You will, but not yet. Not until we make you presentable."
Violet reached out to touch a big, pretty, shiny thing as they passed. "What's presentable?"
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"Don't touch that!" Irmara said quickly, giving a gentle tug on her hand to steer her away from the expensive vase. She never had to worry about the vases getting broken when Nada's children were around. It looked like she had to start worrying. She made a mental note to tell Enid to put all breakables up out of Violet's reach. "Presentable means clean and tidy and neat."
Violet looked down at her clothes. "I'm all grubby."
"Yes," said Irmara. "We'll wash you up and then put you in a nice new dress. Would you like that?"
"No," said Violet honestly. "Dresses are scratchy. And you can't ride in them."
Irmara almost afraid to ask. "Er, ride what?"
"A horse," Violet said, rolling her eyes. Didn't her grandmother know anything?
"Ride...a..." Irmara blanched again and held her hand to her heart. Did the child honestly say ride a horse? Just what kind of life was Tenet letting this precious little girl live? Ride a horse, indeed! "There will be no horse riding, young lady. Imagine how it would feel to have someone sit on you and ride you around all day long!"
"Da lets me sit on him and he doesn't care." Violet felt her lip quiver again. "When can I see Da?"
Irmara pulled herself together. "Let's just worry about one thing at a time, shall we? Let's get you clean. We'll start with that." She tugged on Violet's hand and Violet let herself be pulled through the huge house.
It turned out a bubble bath was great fun. For her, anyway. Violet didn't get the feeling that her grandmother liked it very much when the bubbles got everywhere. Enid laughed, but her grandmother didn't seem to like that, either. Violet didn't care. It was warm and the bubbles smelled like flowers and were fluffy and went all over the place when she blew on them. She even held still while Enid washed her hair just so she could feel the bubbles tickle down her back. After the bath, her grandmother wrapped her in a big warm shirt she called a robe and then Enid blew hot air all over her head while her grandmother brushed her hair.
Violet looked at the air blower curiously. "How do you get the hot air to come out of that gun?"
Enid's eyes went wide and Irmara felt a headache coming on. "It's not a gun. We do not use guns. You are a lady. You should never even discuss guns."
"Mumma uses a gun." She held her finger up and pointed. "She shoots us turkeys and deer and..."
Panicked, Irmara dropped to kneel in front of Violet. She grabbed her arms roughly and gave the girl a firm shake. "Look at me. You must never speak of that. Do you hear me?"
Violet's lip quivered. "But..."
"No buts! Violet, you absolutely must listen to me on this. Please, Violet. Please do not ever tell people your Mumma hunts."
"But there's no...nothing wrong w...with it..."
Irmara bit her lip and looked at Enid's shocked face. Irmara was raised in a tribal culture. She knew what it meant to hunt for survival. But she also knew the hell little Violet would face at the cruelness of others if she spoke of it. She knew how much the looks would hurt, how deep the wounds of the teasing would run. "Violet," she said firmly. "Listen to me. I know your Mumma is a good woman. I'm not saying any different." Enid made a little noise and Irmara snapped at the woman. "Take yourself to my office and wait for me there. Now."
When Enid left, Irmara relaxed her grip on Violet's arms and ran a hand over the little girl's head. Big tears were rolling down her cheeks and Irmara wished she could spare the girl the pain of the world. "There isn't anything wrong with it when there's no choice. Your Mumma was a brave woman to go out and do what she had to do to get your food. Your Da, as well. But now you live here, with us. And you cannot eat meat and you cannot speak of killing or hunting or guns. It will be our secret. You can pretend, can't you?"
Pretend. Mumma told her to. She could pretend. She bit on her lip and nodded her head.
Irmara sighed in relief. "Oh, child. What are we going to do with you?" A wild child, Bradwin had said. That was ridiculous. This child was no more wild than Irmara was when she grew up in her village. And that was exactly what Bradwin meant. He had never seen the hard work she went through on a daily basis to create the picture perfect wife he expected. He only saw the wild-haired girl he knocked up and was forced to marry by an uncaring father who couldn't wait to put her in yet another set of cruel hands to be someone else's problem.
Gripped by a rare impulse, Irmara suddenly planted a kiss on Violet's forehead. It had been years since she'd kissed anyone but lovers, had that type of affectionate contact with a family member. She didn't even remember ever kissing her other grandchildren, and the action stunned her.
Violet was a girl used to kisses and hugs, and it had been days since she got either. Without thought, Violet threw herself into her grandmother's arms and sobbed. Irmara awkwardly patted the girl's back, absolutely shocked by the outburst. Tears clogged her throat.
"There, there," she said, her movements becoming more sure as the child's sobs tore at her heart.
"I wanna go...home."
Irmara closed her eyes tightly, knowing exactly how Violet felt. "It's not so bad here," she lied, and pulled the girl tighter. "After all, your father grew up here, and he turned out just fine."
Violet cried harder. "I want my Da!"
Irmara felt the unfamiliar sensation of a tear roll down her cheek. The shocks just kept coming, didn't they? She was sure all those tears dried up years ago. "I want to see him, too," she whispered to the girl. "I have missed him so."
Violet's breath hitched and she looked up. "He'll come to...get me. I'll tell him...to see you."
Irmara felt the icy grip of fear clench back around her heart. No, he wouldn't. He couldn't! He must stay away. Violet's arms went back around her grandmother, and Irmara clutched her tightly. He wouldn't be so foolish to come back. He escaped! He made it out! She silently begged her son to stay gone as she rocked his daughter to sleep.
Irmara carried Violet to the new room they had prepared for her and placed a servant outside her door. "I must be alerted the moment she wakes, do you understand?" The maid said she did, then Irmara took a deep breath and sought out her husband.
Bradwin wasn't difficult to locate. He was loudly regaling Nada and Merle with his adventure into the Borderlands. "Badlands" was what he called them, but Irmara had long ago learned about the entirely different nation that was so very close to them in miles, and yet so very far apart in culture. She rolled her eyes at his recounting, knowing full well he was embellishing. Three bears? She scoffed.
Bradwin looked up at the sound and saw her in the doorway. "Well? Where is Violet?"
"Resting," Irmara said in her cultured, bored voice.
Nada turned to her husband, a horrified look on her face. "Resting, she says. I've been waiting to meet the girl for years now, and she's resting!"
Merle patted Nada's hand. "I'm sure she's been through a lot," he said, trying to placate his wife. He knew it was the wrong thing to say by the look of utter disgust on her face. Everything was the wrong thing to say. He dropped her hand and walked over to get a drink of wine, wishing that old Bradwin had something a bit stronger he could drink to take the edge off the afternoon.
"Imagine being raised in a place like that. With witches and bears and goodness knows what!" Nada fanned her face with her hand. "I feel a head ache."
"I wonder why," said Irmara, hating her daughter with a cold fury. Witches, indeed! No doubt that's what Nada thought of her, too, then. Nada sputtered and began to screech again, but Irmara had enough. She turned to Bradwin. "A word," she said, then walked out leaving no room for debate.
Bradwin glanced at Merle, envying his youthful stomach that wouldn't burn like fire when he drank wine. He would have loved a glass, but in his current state, that would bring an even more miserable night. He sighed and followed after Irmara. She waited in his private study, staring out the window, her icy shoulder to him as always. He shut the door behind himself. "Yes?"
"Enid must go," she said simply. If Bradwin cared to notice, he would h
ave seen just how much it cost her to ask. She hated the idea of getting rid of her maid, and hated knowing that she would have to use Bradwin's style of leadership to make it happen.
Bradwin quirked and eyebrow. The mighty Ice Queen needed to come grovel for a favor, did she? "Indeed? And what did Enid do to incur your wrath?"
Irmara choked back the bile that rose when she looked in Bradwin's eyes. He knew. The bastard knew just how deeply she hated to ask him for the favor. He knew what a knife to the back it felt like and he stood there trying to twist it deeper as always. Dammit, if only there was any other way! But, there wasn't. She had enough years in her life to know that much. "She was in attendance for the girl's bath and heard her speak of hunting."
Bradwin saw the sweat bead on his wife's forehead and added a tally mark to his side of his mental score card. Her notches vastly exceeded his own, and every win in battle was cause for celebration. Perhaps he would have a glass of wine after all. He let her stew while he slowly made his way to the dusty decanter and poured himself a drink. The wine burned his stomach instantly, but there would be time for regrets later. "I see," he said, swirling the wine in his glass and drawing out the moment.
Irmara seethed with the bonfire of hate she'd spent thirty years stoking. She wanted to walk over and smack the smug look right off his wrinkled old face. She wondered idly how he would react. Perhaps it would be the shock that finally stopped that steely heart. It was a fleeting desire that she quickly tamped down. Let him smirk. She'd win next time. She stood straighter and stared him right in the eye, something she knew he hated. "Well?"
Bradwin saw the change in her demeanor and schooled the frown that wanted to crease his forehead. He hated it when she looked at him like that, like she knew every single thing about him and was sharpening her claws while she decided which way to slice. He swilled the rest of his wine and put the glass down on his desk with a resounding thunk. "She's been your maid for ten years now. I think she's proven her loyalty." He didn't care about a stupid maid. That wasn't the point.
Irmara folded her hands in front of her to keep them from twitching. "You should have seen the look on her face. She will not keep this to herself."
Bradwin let out a small, humorless laugh. "Always so quick to throw people away, aren't you, Irmara?" He rubbed the burn in his chest and dug some pills out of his pocket.
"What can I say, Bradwin?" her voice dripped with venom. "I learned from the best."
Bradwin's eyes went straight to hers and he was once again stunned by the cold fury he saw there. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He walked around his desk and sat down heavily. He tapped on his com dock and in a few seconds there was a sharp rap at the door before a man strode in.
"Sir?"
"We've had a situation with one of our maids." He looked to Irmara.
"Enid Pender," she supplied.
The man gave a curt nod. "Understood. Standard severance package?"
Bradwin thought for only a moment before shaking his head. Irmara was a lot of things, but she wasn't an alarmist. If she believed the woman would blab, then he would take her word on the matter. She didn't want public humiliation any more than he did. "There's a cargo tug of wheat heading out of Clough Pass. Board her and her family. Keep them secluded until then." Bradwin looked up to Irmara, as if asking for her approval. She gave a curt nod, and he turned back to his lackey. "Got that?"
"Yes, sir."
Irmara watched the man leave. "Across the desert?" she asked, her heart wrenching for her maid. They could not keep the maid around, but the woman had served with loyalty and faithfulness. Not for the first time in life, she wished things could be different.
"It's that or death," Bradwin snapped, rubbing his chest and wishing just once he could do the right thing in Irmara's eyes. "I'll call him back in here and order the second option if you disapprove..."
"Don't be silly," Irmara said in her cool tone. "I want her gone, not dead." She wondered for a split second if he actually would kill the woman on nothing more than her request.
Bradwin let out a humph. "Then, if that's all, I had a horrible meeting in Leonsburg and I need to debrief the Council, not to mention figure out how much the press knows and..."
"Of course," Irmara said, not wanting to stand there and listen to him prattle on about how difficult his cushy life was yet again. She turned and headed for the door, but paused with her hand on the knob. "Did you...did you see Tenet?" she asked, wishing her voice didn't sound so hopeful.
Bradwin was surprised it took her so long to ask about her precious Tenet. He considered lying. The burn in his gut added to his bad mood and he could make her squirm for awhile. But he wasn't joking when he said he had a long day ahead of him.
"No," he answered her after only a moment. "I did not." He watched her back stiffen before she flung the door open and strode out. He sighed heavily and popped another pill. He pressed the com link and called for a Council assembly, then settled in to get the next part of his plan started.