“My mom says if you don’t think your parents have been laughing at you your whole life, you either do not have parents or you do not have a life.” I shrugged.
“Mother has definitely laughed at you,” Eliza said to Gale. “Father, I can’t see it. Yelling for sure, but I do not know what you could have ever done to make him laugh outright.”
Elspeth giggled, and we all looked at her. This regal queen had just giggled. She lifted her hand to her lips, composing herself. “You must forgive me. I simply remembered something from your childhood that had your father in tears.”
“What?” Gale asked her.
“When you were a boy, you got stuck in a tree without...without your pants.” She snickered again. “After you were safely down, your father kept asking through his laughter, ‘He had no pants, Elspeth. How did the boy lose his pants?’ He was utterly confused and thoroughly amused.”
My mouth dropped open.
Eliza broke out laughing.
Gale hung his head, shaking it in embarrassment.
Sophia. Well, Sophia just ate quietly.
Chapter 11
I did not know which was more chilling—the deafening silence or the feelings of the woman creating that silence. My sister-in-law, Sophia De Loutherbergh, sat quietly in the chair nearest to the fireplace, drinking wine and holding us all hostage with the weight of her grief.
Since the end of dinner, all of us tried to do what Pašrévaka was meant for, hold a conversation. However, each time any of us would begin to lighten the mood, Sophia would speak ever so softly and yet ever so coldly, chilling everything over again. Odette had managed a few lighter moments, but in the end, we all ended up as we were now. Quietly drinking and waiting for this portion of the night to be over. My sister was now distracting herself with Persephone, though the dog clearly wished to go back to her owner, Sophia. I did not like the spoiled creature, and yet even I pitied it as she sniffed and whimpered at Sophia’s skirt only to be outright ignored. Unable to take much more of it, Eliza gathered her into her arms and began feeding the dog treats, clearly seeking to distract it and herself from the present reality.
This was not how I wished to welcome Odette.
Nor was it what I wanted for my family. We were grieving, yes, but I did not want them to sit in this pain. Yet I did not know what to do. I could not leave, nor could I make Sophia leave. If Arthur came back from the grave for anything, it would be to terrorize me for dishonoring his beloved wife.
So, we sat in deafening silence, drinking.
I glanced over at Odette, who was turned away from our family and glancing back at the family den where the piano sat next to the window.
I opened my mouth to ask her if she wished to play, but she spoke first before I could.
“Do you mind if play?” Odette questioned, turning back to us.
“Not at all,” my mother replied gently. “Someone should, as that piano has been preserved for only gross neglect whenever the queen dowager is away.”
“The queen dowager? As in Queen Arabella,” Odette asked to my surprise, rising from her seat.
“Yes, my grandmother,” I answered, happy to speak again. “She is fond of the piano and tried to make us all learn, but none of us were any good.”
“You were all plenty good, simply not good enough for the queen mother,” my mother said, and I glanced at her, trying to see if there would be any resentment on her face.
Everyone knew my grandmother was not fond of Mother and vice versa, which was why my grandmother preferred to spend her time in Donaè Castle in the north. However, my mother let nothing away.
“It is the most beautiful piano I have ever seen,” Odette said, and when I looked back, she was beside it, running her hands over the golden engravings for a moment. Then without any reservation or thought, she stepped out of her heels, placing them carefully under the bench before taking a seat.
She pressed one key.
Then another.
And then smiled, stretching her fingers before they touched the keys, and in the blink of an eye, a dozen notes flew by. The room filled with soft notes, and it was as if the sun had appeared, the heavy cloud of sorrow and pain vanishing. She had everyone’s attention, my mother, my sister, the butlers who stood not to