SEVEN
estate
I’d moved out when I turned sixteen three years ago, and it still felt kinda strange going back to the house I’d grown up in. It always looked the same and smelled the same, but there were subtle differences that reminded me it wasn’t my home anymore.
My mom and dad lived in a cottage near the town square, and as far as cottages in Doldastam went, theirs was fairly spacious. It wasn’t as nice as the house my dad had grown up in, but that had been passed to the Eckwells after my grandparents had died, since Dad had given up his Markis title.
Mom had probably grown up in a nicer house too, though she didn’t talk about it that much. In fact, she rarely ever mentioned Storvatten except to talk about the lake.
As soon as I opened the door, the scent of seawater hit me. We lived over a half hour away from Hudson Bay, so I have no idea how Mom did it, but the house always smelled like the ocean. Now it was mixed with salmon and citrus, the supper she was cooking in the oven.
“Hello?” I called, since no one was there to greet me at the door, and I began unwinding my scarf.
“Bryn?” Dad came out from the study at the back of the house, with his reading glasses pushed up on his head. “You’re here early.”
“Only fifteen minutes,” I said, glancing over at the grandfather clock in the living room to be sure I was right. “Linus was sitting down for supper with his parents, so I thought it would be a good time to duck out. If I’m interrupting something, I can entertain myself while you finish up.”
“No, I was just doing some paperwork, but it can wait.” He waved in the direction of his study. “Take off your coat. Stay awhile.”
“Where’s Mom?” I asked as I took off my jacket and hung it on the coatrack by the door.
“She’s in the bath,” Dad said.
I should’ve known. Mom was always in the bath. It was because she was Skojare. She needed the water.
Some of my fondest memories from being a small child were sitting in the bathroom with her. She’d be soaking in the claw-footed tub, and I’d sit on the floor. Sometimes she’d sing to me, other times I’d read her stories, or just play with my toys. A lot of time was spent in there.
Fortunately, Mom didn’t have gills, the way some of the Skojare did. If she had, then I don’t know how she would’ve survived here, with the rivers and bay frozen over so often. The Skojare didn’t actually live in the water, but they needed to spend a lot of time in it, or they’d get sick.
When Mom stayed away from water too long, she’d get headaches. Her skin would become ashen, and her golden hair would lose its usual luster. She’d say, “I’m drying out,” and then she’d go take a long soak in the tub.
I don’t think that was the ideal course of action for her symptoms, but Mom made do.
“Supper smells good,” I said as I walked into the kitchen.
“Yeah. Your mom put it in before she got in the tub,” Dad said. “It should be ready soon, I think.”
Upstairs, I heard the bathroom door open, followed by my mom shouting, “Bryn? Is that you?”
“Yeah, Mom. I got here a little early,” I called up to her.
“Oh, gosh. I’ll be right down.”
“You don’t need to rush on my account,” I said, but I knew she would anyway.
A few seconds later, Mom came running down the stairs wearing a white robe. A clip held up her long wet hair.
“Bryn!” Mom beamed at me, and she ran over and embraced me tightly. “I’m so happy to see you!”
“Glad to see you too, Mom.”
“How are you?” She let go of me and brushed my hair back from my face, so she could look at me fully. “Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, right?”
“Nope. I’m totally fine.”
“Good.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her aqua eyes were pained. “I worry so much when you’re away.”
“I know, but I’m okay. Honest.”
“I love you.” She leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Now I’ll go get dressed. I just wanted to see you first.”
Mom dashed back upstairs to her bedroom, and I sat down at the kitchen table. Even without makeup, and rapidly approaching forty, my mom still had to be the most stunning woman in Doldastam. She had the kind of beauty that launched a thousand wars.
Fortunately, that hadn’t happened. Although there had definitely been repercussions from her union with my dad, and they’d both sacrificed their titles and riches to be together.
Their relationship had been quite the scandal. My mom had been born in Storvatten—the Skojare capital—and she was a high-ranking Marksinna. My dad had been Markis from a prominent family in Doldastam. When Mom was only sixteen, she’d been invited to a ball here in Doldastam, and though my dad was a few years older than her, they’d instantly fallen in love.
Dad had become involved in politics, and he didn’t want to leave Doldastam because he had a career. So Mom defected from Storvatten, since they both agreed that they had a better chance to make a life here.
The fact that Dad was Chancellor, and had been for the past ten years, was a very big deal. Especially since his family had basically disowned him. But I’d always thought that the fact that my mom was so beautiful helped his case. Everyone understood why he’d give up his title and his riches to be with her.
I’d like to say that life had been easy for my mom and me, that the Kanin people had been as forgiving of us as they had been for Dad. But they hadn’t.
Other tribes like the Trylle were more understanding about intertribal marriages, especially if the marriage wasn’t among high-ranking royals. They thought it helped unite the tribes. But the Kanin definitely did not feel that way. Any romance outside your own tribe could dilute the precious bloodlines, and that was an act against the kingdom itself and nearly on par with treason.
Perhaps that’s why they were slightly easier on my mom than they were on me. Her bloodline was still pure. It may have been Skojare, but it was untainted. Mine was a mixture, a travesty against both the Kanin and the Skojare.
“So how are things going with Linus?” Dad walked over to the counter and poured himself a glass of red wine, then held out an empty glass toward me. “You want something to drink?”
“Sure.” I sat down at the kitchen table, and Dad poured me a glass of wine before joining me. “Linus is adjusting well, and he’s curious and easygoing, which makes the transition easier. He’s trying really hard to learn all of our words and phrases. He’s even tried mimicking our dialect.”
When trackers went out into the world, we were taught to use whatever dialect was common in that area, which was actually incredibly difficult to master. But in Doldastam, we returned to the usual Kanin accent—slightly Canadian but with a bit of a Swedish flare to it, especially on Kanin words. Linus’s Chicago accent wasn’t too far off, but he still tried to imitate ours perfectly.
Dad took a drink, then looked toward the stairs, as if searching for my mother, and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I didn’t tell her about Konstantin. She knows you were attacked, but not by whom.”
Dad swirled the wine in his glass, staring down at it so he wouldn’t have to look at me, then he took another drink. This time I joined him, taking a long drink myself.
“Thank you,” I said finally, and he shook his head.
My parents had a very open relationship, and I’d rarely known them to keep secrets from each other. So my dad not telling my mom about Konstantin was actually a very big deal, but I understood exactly why he withheld that information, and I appreciated it.
Mom would lose her mind if she found out. After Konstantin had stabbed Dad, she’d begged and pleaded for us all to leave, to go live among the humans, but both Dad and I had wanted to stay, so finally she had relented. It was my dad’s argument that we were safer here, with other guards and trackers to protect us from one crazed vigilante.