Countless people streamed across the narrow sidewalks as the sun peeked between the tall buildings, casting a cool shadow across the double-wide road. The road was laid with cobblestones, making the carriages rattle as they passed each other by. I could feel my back being stroked as I forced myself to describe more things I saw out of the carriage.

My father sat on our side crossing his arms. “At least you had the forethought to send a carriage without a family crest.”

“Of course, I personally witnessed your temperament last time.” Raviel sat opposite of us, her back against the driver’s seat. The seats may be a little small for two adults and sitting together, yet this was the best configuration we decided.

Duke Nikodemus, my grandfather, had sent Raviel to pick us up at the magic gate station. Her hair had grown a bit longer, it now reached to her shoulders. She had exchanged her usual bow and pants for a simple but elegant dress. It flowed softly downwards only stopping once it reached her ankles. Hadn’t it been for the colors, I would have thought she wore one of those maid outfits.

No one said anything in the carriage, only sounds of the wooden wheels hitting the cobblestone entertained our whole way to our destination. We were going to finally meet the patriarch, Garius Nikodemus. My mothers hand trembled as she continued to stroke my back. 

We crossed a large gate where a guard confirmed Raviel’s identity, giving her a little bow. Behind the gate stood a paved path sandwiched by two large swathes of bushes and trees. A gazebo could be seen on the right side.

The rows of bushes converged together letting the Estate stand centerpoint, it looked magnificent, several times bigger than our inn we had lodged at for two days. A friendly looking gentleman was waiting on the stairs for us with several other maids and servants lined up behind him. They went immediately to work upon our arrival, unloading our luggage.

My father opened the carriage door, slipping in the refreshing air much to my delight, before taking confident steps out of the carriage. Mom followed suit, gracefully grasping his outstretched hand and escorted herself down. It looked natural as the two of them now stood at attention before the servants. Then it was my turn. Like a sack of potatoes, my father grabbed me by the sides and lifted me down with a childlike plop. Wow.

“Welcome back Lord Galen. I see that you are still in good health.” The butler-like man greeted, crow’s feet forming at the corners.

“Thank you Alden, but I’m not a lord anymore so there’s no need for you to bow your head at me.”

“You will always be a lord of this house, allow me this once to pay my respects.”

“Lift your head, Alden.”

“Just this once, my lord.” The two of them were stubborn each in their own ways as neither relented. Mom stepped forward to break it up.

“I see you too are in good health, Lady Victoria” My ears tickled hearing her title.

“It has been a while, sir Alden.” She did the same thing as Raviel a few days prior. Lifting the hem of her dress and bending a leg backward. It looked like a useful movement to learn.

His elderly face turned to me. “You must be the young miss.” 

I mirrored the curtsy my mom had done. “Hello, my name is Esther. I’m fourteen.”

“Goodness, fourteen? Has it really been that long?” He bent his knee making it easier for me to look at him. “Welcome to the Nikodemus estate”, his teeth were really white, “we hope you enjoy your stay here.”

The carpet adorning the halls were squishy. It was like walking on clouds or deflated air mattresses. Squish, squish, it felt weird. We were being led down a long hall by the butler. Candles lit the walls and chandeliers lit the ceiling. 

“It’s a shame that Lord Gilbert and Lady Gwen aren't here to keep you company.” I heard my mom let out a sigh beside me.

“Alden.” My father stopped walking. “I’m only here for one purpose, take me to my father.”

“Of course my lord, my age must be showing today. Here, this door.” Honestly, it looked more like a gate. Two doors, no doubt heavier than the carriage we rode on, sat flush in the wall. Their height could be measured using three of myselves, if I stood on my toes. A symbol of the family crest was engraved on each of the doors. The duke was represented by a rose, thorns still on its stem.

“Still using the same room I see.” My father went on to grab the golden door handles when the butler stopped him. 

“I must ask that only you meet with his Grace.” 

My father squinted at him. “And why is that?” 

“He asked for your understanding.”

“That’s rich coming from him.”

“It sounds important, dear. We can find somewhere to relax. Can you find us a place to rest, sir Alden?”

“Of course my Lady, please follow me.”

My father was left for himself as I followed my mom. The gigantic doors seemed to swallow him as he went inside. A loud clack resounded in the hall behind me.

“Thank you for swiftly solving the situation again.” He gave a little bow while opening the door to another room. The insides were huge. Chairs and tables, that’s right, multiple tables decorated the clean wooden floor.  

“I didn’t do it for you”, my mom said. “I just want to get out here as fast as possible.” She closed the door on Alden.

***

Galen went into the room and saw his father sitting at the same couch he always sat on. It had become worn by the passage of time, fraying at the seams and showing the stitching underneath. A bunch of documents lay spread over the low-raised tea table. Like small black ants, words filled the off-white pages. Hearing the door to his office open and close, the Duke still didn’t stop inspecting the document in his hand.

“You are late.” It was a rough and gruff voice befitting someone in his position. Galen wondered if it had become even deeper than before.

“Good to see you too, your Grace”. Galen stood in front of the tea table, hands behind his back like a soldier standing at attention. His father had gotten older. Gray hairs dotted here and there on the otherwise black mane. “Why did you call for me?”

“You were supposed to arrive last week.” Was it that important whether or not he had arrived on time? For years, they hadn’t seen each other and the first thing he mentioned meeting him was ‘You are late’, incredible. 

“I will take my leave if you don’t tell-” 

“Your mother has fallen in an accident. She’s in a coma.”

The words coming from his father were unexpected, it didn’t even register in his head. 

“What?” Sure, he hadn’t asked about the whereabouts of his mother or how she was doing. He could just visit her after this meeting, visit her with his lovely daughter. Seeing Alden not behave that differently from usual, Galen had not given it any more thoughts. 

“She may not have that long left.” The Duke’s voice trembled as he delivered the news. It was the first time he saw his father’s figure look like that. His father, one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, one of the most strict men he knew of, and one who never showed as much a sliver of emotion, sat there looking sad. His permanently straight line of a mouth had broken into a frown. He looked small on his worn out couch.

“And when did this accident happen?” 

“A week ago, or two now that you are finally here.” What was that supposed to mean? Nothing was said in the letter, only the words ‘come home’ was written on it. It was maddening. He wouldn’t have delayed the trip this much if he had known. He had wasted away a week of his mother’s life all because this man didn’t deem it important enough to write down some damn details. 

“Why didn’t you say that in the letter?” Galen practically growled.

“Take a seat, we have much to go through.” The aging man simply straightened out the documents on the table. Giving them three taps on the table. Tap, tap, tap. 

“I would have come as fast as I could had you just written that! Do you know how much time I wasted!” Guilt, betrayal. Those two feelings clashed against each other in his heart. 

Garius slammed his fist on the table making the perfectly straightened documents jump a little. “Take. A. Seat.”

“How am I to look at some damned piece of papers right now! What even are these?!” He picked up the nearest document on the table. “Is this her inheritance?!” Galen’s voice got louder for each new sentence he said.

But the next words from his father trumped even that, booming in the room, even penetrating out into the hall and the neighboring rooms. 

“Yes they are!” Garius Nikodemus stood up. 

“Laying there unconscious in her bed! She had written this piece of paper to prepare for a day like this!” 

Grabbing his collar, he was screaming in the face of his son, his youngest son, his son that had forsaken his own name. Galen could do naught but look at his out of control father. He looked down at the man that had raised him, he looked down. His father had gotten shorter in the years he had been gone.

“To her most ungrateful! And insane child!”

***

It was delicious, I had to take another piece. A maid had come in with some tea and refreshments. A plate of cookies looking like small checkerboards sat in front of me. Crumbs fell to the table like sand as I grabbed another one. 

“Are they good?” My mom stared at me stuffing the cookies in my mouth. It was rude to talk with food in one’s mouth, her question got answered with a nod instead.

“Maybe I should call for another plate.”

“Really?” She seemed to sparkle more than usual today.

“Of course! Your mother used to live here a long, long time ago, you know?”

“Why did you leave?” They had soft floors and cookies.

“Oh… How about we tell you when we get home again?” 

“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.” I don’t like complicated things. 

“You’re not curious?”

I shook my head. “You two always get sad whenever you talk about it.”

She smiled. “My sweet and lovely daughter, I pray that you are always happy and healthy!” She gave me a hug. I could see some crumbs falling onto her dress as she nuzzled up against me.

True to her word, a new plate of cookies had been delivered to us. The maid gave me a gentle smile as she excused herself out of the room with the polished empty ceramic plate. These ones tasted a bit different, earthy like bread with bits of sweetness. 

Flat on the bottom and dome shaped, they sat on the palm of my hand. It had pieces of grain sticking out of where I had chomped onto it and black colored dots adding the otherwise brown cookie a bit of color. Raisin’s were not on the top of my list of foods, still who knows when this much sugar would present itself in front of me ever again? It had to at least be a year on my next birthday.

“Are we leaving after father is done with his meeting?” I munched on the last cookie.

“If all goes well.” My mother was sipping her second cup of tea. The cups were different from ours at home, they were shorter and had handles. Letting her little finger fly, she held it with the remaining fingers. It looked a bit silly.

“Will I be able to meet my grandfather?” It was hard holding the cup like that. My fingers cramped immediately.

“I think we have to, however, you should refer to him as his Grace or your grace while we’re here.” My mom taught me the basics of etiquette while traveling. It was interesting and fun hearing the countless small rules, faux pas was what I had just said, she called it. “Although I don’t think your father wants you to meet with him.” 

“Does he hate his Grace?”

She put down her cup with a soft clink. “It’s hard to say.”

“What about her Grace, can I meet her?”

“That should be doable, I actually want to meet her again too!” Mom must really like my grandmother to smile like that. “Let’s ask your father after he is done talking.”

It had been some time since we were escorted here. Eating all the cookies had made me feel a bit drowsy. I should have just slept in hindsight.

The door opened and my father took a step in. With swift steps, my mom quickly got up and held his face in her hands. It was happening again.

“Gale, what happened? What did you talk about?”

“Victoria…” He sounded hoarse.

“Yes I’m here.” He laid his head on her shoulder.

“My mother is dying…” The room was silent.

“That can’t be…” My mother’s voice trembled. 

“We have to stay here until…”

Why was this always happening?

“...until my mother wakes up.”

“That can’t be…” My mom lost the strength in her legs. It was like a pull-string doll that used all of its rope. 

“I’m sorry.”

Why couldn’t we just be happy? This life and that life, bad luck seemed to follow me wherever I was.

I didn’t know who was consoling whom as my father carried her to the couch. My eyes burned as something wet rolled down my face.