Page 75 of The Gathering Storm

Wilhelmina stood facing the fire on the opposite side of the room, Troy at her side. He looked up when Will and Sigrid entered. Wilhelmina did not.

The lump that had been gathering inside Sigrid all morning withered into a tight knot in her chest.

Anya stepped out from behind the desk, a warm smile on her face. “Good morning Will, Sigrid.”

Will bent and hugged his grandmother. “Hey, Amma. How’s the temperature?”

“Frigid,” Anya said, her serious tone a sharp contrast to the soft smile she wore. “Tea, coffee?”

Will glanced at Sigrid and brushed a finger over the end of his nose. “None for us, thanks.”

Anya arched a single eyebrow at Sigrid, no doubt over the impropriety of Will answering for them both. Such was a Daughter’s duty and right, but Sigrid held her tongue, afraid her own voice would choke before it left her throat.

“Well, then.” Anya slipped away from Will and rounded her desk. “Shall we begin?”

“There’s nothing to say.” Wilhelmina’s voice cracked through the room, sharp thunder after the boldest strike of lightning. “He made his choice.”

“Yet here we are,” Anya said evenly.

“Because you threatened to disown me.”

Will crossed his arms over his chest and coughed into his fist, hiding a dimpled smile.

Troy murmured something too low for Sigrid to hear. Wilhelmina huffed out a breath and flounced across the room, her heels as sharp against the ancient rugs lining the library’s floor as her anger.

Once they were all settled into chairs, Sigrid and Wilhelmina bracketing the men sitting in the inner chairs, Anya relaxed in her chair and eyed them steadily. “My grandson asked me to mediate the dispute between him and my daughter. I have agreed on the condition that I mediate only. Will, you may begin.”

Will turned and looked at his mother, his gaze steady against her icy hot glare. “I love Sigrid more than my own life.”

Wilhelmina sucked in a breath and paled, her lips a thin, red slash against her ashen skin.

“She accepted me when she didn’t have to, fought for me,” Will continued. “Won. By law, I’m hers. There is no choice.”

Sigrid’s hands tightened painfully on the arms of her chair. She opened her mouth, fully intending to dispute his words. Will was free to leave her, free to live his life as he pleased. She couldn’t hold him, wouldn’t if it meant hurting him.

Anya lifted a single hand, silencing Sigrid’s protest before it began, but it was too late. The knot in Sigrid’s stomach shoved upward into her throat and burst inside her, filling her head with the oddest pressure. She placed a hand to the buzzing in her ears, scarcely aware of the conversation eddying around her.

“Even if there were a choice, I would stay with her,” Will said. “I love her, but I love you, too, Mom.”

“If you loved me,” Wilhelmina said stiffly, “you would never have defied me in the first place.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Will muttered. “It’s not like we can control who we love.”

“You could’ve tried. You could’ve had some respect, some consideration, for your mother’s opinion, if not your own welfare.”

A slow fire sparked in Sigrid’s chest, burning under the weight of Wilhelmina’s words. She inhaled tentatively, seeking to ease it, and just managed to control the cough tickling her throat before it could interrupt the proceedings.

“Willie,” Troy said, and Anya shushed him with a gentle reminder of the People’s rules. Women talked. Men obeyed. That’s the way it had always been, hadn’t it? From the first day of the curse until now, when hope had finally come upon them. The curse could be broken, would be if the stars aligned correctly.

“I love her,” Will said, his voice as implacably recalcitrant as his mother’s. “Why are you punishing me for finding love? Why can’t you be happy for me?”

Wilhelmina stood abruptly, her eyes flashing a fire burning as brightly as the one consuming Sigrid. “She’ll be the ruination of you. As soon as she’s had her fill, she’ll discard you, leaving you an empty husk. How long before she uses you up? I’ll not have that for my son.”

Sigrid shook her head, a mute denial. She should say something, defend herself, and would if only this blasted buzzing would cease. Will would never be discarded. She could never betray him, never lose him. He was her life, her love, discovered after so long on her own. Why had she ever resisted the idea in the first place?

But she had, and now here he was, her destiny. Surely they could all see that.

“I can take care of myself,” Will said hotly.

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