Page 36 of The Gathering Storm

She swiveled around and watched the other Daughter climb into the rental sedan and leave, her mind whirling around the unease growing within her. The front door opened again, a quiet snick, drawing Sigrid’s attention, and she turned and continued her journey into the home of Will’s grandmother.

Anya was standing in front of a roaring fire in her study when Sigrid let herself into the room, guided there by Anya’s assistant. Her steely hair was secured in two long braids, one tucked behind each ear. She wore a carnelian peasant top over worn jeans and moccasins, and stood as erect in her dotage as she had in her youth.

Two steps into the room, Sigrid bowed, much lower than she ever would’ve to that upstart Chana Wolfbane. Respect had some privileges, after all, and this display was one of them.

Anya turned away from the fire and returned the bow, a smile creasing the skin around her eyes. “Such pretty formality. When was it ever necessary between us?”

“When business deemed it so,” Sigrid replied. “How have you been?”

“Old and creaky, but you knew that. Come, sit. Tell me what’s so urgent you had to interrupt my naptime.”

Sigrid settled herself on the study’s only sofa, a large three-seater upholstered in brown, gold, and green plaids, situated facing the fireplace. As soon as Anya sat down at the other end, Sigrid said, “I have come on a somewhat personal matter.”

Anya’s cornflower blue eyes sharpened. “It’s not like you to beat around the bush.”

No, it wasn’t. Sigrid inhaled slowly, exhaled on a small laugh. “I’m unsure of my reception.”

“We’ve always been candid, Sigrid, and welcome in each other’s company.”

“We have,” Sigrid murmured, and girded herself for the blunt truth. “I’ve come to negotiate for your grandson, Will.”

Some of the friendliness leached out of Anya’s eyes, leaving them cold and a touch haughty. “Have you, now.”

“He and I are dating.” Sigrid fumbled for the words, struggling to find the ones that would soften his grandmother to her suit. “I believe we would make a good match and wish to bring him under my care.”

“I see.” Anya studied Sigrid for a moment. Her steady gaze seemed to pierce into Sigrid, seeing right through her to the heart of her intentions. “You understand that this is Will’s decision to make.”

Some of the tension left Sigrid’s muscles. She had expected that, and had the perfect countermeasure.

Before she could speak, Anya continued. “But it is up to his family to ensure that he makes a good decision. Are you aware that another has spoken for him?”

Sigrid only just kept the surprise from showing in her expression. “Chana, daughter of Pari, of the line of Eleni.”

Anya nodded. “She makes a good case. Her reputation is spotless, her finances well in order. I believe she would treat Will very well, and possibly even come to love him.”

A hard knot of something close to panic lodged itself in Sigrid’s chest, stealing her breath. “You have given her permission to court him?”

“As I said, that’s up to Will, but I am receptive to her suit.” The warmth bled from Anya’s expression. “I love you as a sister, Sigrid. On this you should never doubt, but I would rather you leave him be.”

“Why?” The word escaped from Sigrid in a breathy rush of confusion. “It would be a good alliance, a further cementing of our long friendship.”

“True, but it would also destroy him. I know what you do with your men.” When Sigrid tried to protest, Anya waved a single hand, silencing her in mid-word. “Don’t deny it to me, old friend. I’ve been there beside you too many times to give my grandson over to your care. I will not allow you to break his heart.”

“I would—” Sigrid swallowed down her words, sure they would only hurt her cause. When she could speak around the rawness gathering in her throat, speak past it and the thought of never having Will again, she said, “Will you stand in my way, should I continue my courtship of him?”

Anya’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and in the long moment that followed, defeat rushed into Sigrid, testing the calm she’d struggled so heavily to maintain. This was it, then. If Anya forbade Sigrid from pursuing Will, she would be forced to comply, else a war would spring up between their families. No man was worth that, even one of Will’s caliber. Chana would win his heart, and Sigrid would lose him before she’d even had a chance to plumb the depths of his desire.

At last, Anya said, “It’s up to Will, but tread carefully here, Sigrid. You know the consequences of treating him poorly.”

“Of course. Thank you for your time.” Sigrid stood on surprisingly shaky limbs. “Well met, kaetyrm.”

Anya’s expression softened into a smile. “Well met, old friend.”

Sigrid left while her dignity remained intact, measuring her pace out of habit rather than need, and afterwards sat in her car wondering what she could possibly do to hold Will to her without his family’s approval.

Rebecca worked steadily on clearing the last of the day’s paperwork off her desk, one eye on it, the other on her watch. It was early still. More than an hour remained before the official end of her workday, but Robert hadn’t been feeling well lately. The need gripping her to check on him, to assure herself of his wellbeing, urged her into a quicker pace.

She was well aware of time dripping steadily away from them. Would that she had another life to live with him. She would gladly forsake the centuries she’d endured before meeting him, if it meant having him all the longer.

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