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She tried to read on, but could not make sense of the words. She crumpled the letter and closed her eyes. Raul spoke quietly to the runner, who vanished at a run. Very soon the boy returned with a flask. Raul held it to Ilse’s lips. “Drink.”
She did, the alcohol burning down her throat, making her cough. Anger was gone, so was the first shock. Inside she felt only emptiness, and a small bright flame of grief. She turned her head away. “No more.”
“Are you able to read it now?”
She shook her head. Raul sighed and took the letter, motioning for the boy to stand behind him with the lamp. As he scanned the page, Ilse saw him frown, then his face smoothed to a neutral expression. “What is it?”
“He invites you to come home.”
She flinched. “No. I cannot. What does he want from me?”
“Nothing. Just the opposite. Your father made a new will this autumn, leaving you a third of his possessions. Ehren has sent you a copy of the will and a list of all your father’s possessions. He asks that you choose which items you prefer. You need not visit, however, though they would like to see you.”
She hugged herself tightly, saying nothing.
“He also says that your mother is not well.”
If she knew Ehren, that meant seriously ill.
“Just like our father,” she said. “He gives me a list of goods before he mentions our mother. Does he think I care about money?”
“Ilse. He’s your brother, not your father. Do not blame him.”
He reached toward her. She shook off his hand. “Do not tell me what to do, Raul. You were not there when Ehren told me to marry Theodr Galt.”
“Does that mean I have no right to say what I think?”
Two quarrels in one evening. Both left her shaken. Ilse took a deep breath. “Speak, then,” she said in a tight voice.
Raul nodded. “Very well. I know you are angry. I understand. And perhaps your mother and brother might have done more. But Ilse, your brother grieves, however clumsily. Do not cut him off without any reply.” In a quieter voice, he added, “It’s the right thing to do. And you believe in doing the right thing, I know.”
He made no move to embrace her, neither did he turn away. Another turning point—past the first joy, past the first genuine argument. She released a long sigh. “You are right. I should, I will write to Ehren. But no visits. Not yet.”
“I say the same myself,” Raul said softly. “I mean to visit my father, who is old. I have any number of duties waiting for me. A brother.”
“Three sisters,” Ilse added.
“Three barbed and dangerous creatures.”
He opened his arms. She leaned into them, feeling strangely bereft of desire, but craving his warmth and no longer caring about the presence of guards and runners. Gradually the strangeness fell away, as though an invisible, magical veil concealed the two of them from the world. Perhaps this was how kings and queens managed their lives.
She almost laughed to think of it. Almost.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ILSE WROTE A short note to Ehren that same night, knowing delay would only make her task more difficult.
“… I cannot promise when I will visit, but I can promise that I will. Someday. But please understand that I cannot make my home in Melnek. I’ve made a new life with new companions. I cannot fit myself into old expectations.…”
The phrases sounded stiff to her ear, and she was painfully aware she had not mentioned their father’s death, nor their mother’s illness. With a sigh, she added a postscript. “Ehren, I’m sorry for how this letter must sound. It is difficult for me to express everything I think or feel or hope at this moment. I will write again before the month is over, and then I will answer all your questions about the will.”
Before she sealed it, Ilse gave the letter to Raul to read.
He read it through in silence, then regarded the last page a moment before he handed it back. “You are honest, not cruel. If your brother is as clear-sighted as you, he will understand.”
Ilse folded the sheets together. “I hope so. To be fair, we were both trapped by our father. We just chose different paths.”
Raul took her hands in his. “I’m sorry.”
