A Captive of Wing and Feather A Retelling of Swan Lake - Melanie Cellier Page 0,80
an armchair, and I perched on it carefully. “Have a drink.” She held out a glass of water, and I accepted it, although I wasn’t thirsty.
Once she was sitting as well, she took a moment to ponder my question.
“I suppose we knew because we grew up together,” she said. “We had seen enough of each other to know how we acted in all different situations. Neither of us has ever left this town, you know. Gregor was born only four houses down from mine.” She smiled fondly at the memory before looking over at me again, her brow creased.
“But it’s an uncertain world, and we are none of us perfect. So what choice do we have but to love and trust regardless? It would be a lonely life if we did not.”
“But you chose well,” I said, softly. “Gregor never betrayed you.”
I had not chosen my brother, but I had grown up beside him, and I had believed earnestly in his love. Sometimes I wondered if it was my own blindness that scared me more than his betrayal.
“Actually, he did,” Vilma said.
“What?” I stared at her. “But the two of you…”
“Oh, this is many years ago now,” she said. “I had almost forgotten it. The children needed new shoes, and so I had taken in some laundry work—something I didn’t usually do.” She shook her head. “I worked so hard for those coins, and I entrusted them to Gregor to purchase the shoes from the cobbler. But he ran into an old friend, just passing through town, who invited him to the tavern for a drink. One thing led to another, and they ended up in a game of chance. Gregor came home without the coins or the shoes.”
She shook her head. “For weeks afterward, when I saw our poor children with their cold feet, I thought I would never forgive him.”
“But you did,” I said. “How?”
“By remembering my own mistakes,” she said. “And the times he forgave me for them. As I said, we are none of us perfect.”
“But even if you chose to forgive, how could you trust him after that?” I asked.
“Oh I didn’t, at first. Not with the coin, anyway,” she said, perfectly cheerfully. “But he was so repentant. He was determined to win my trust back, and for years he refused to set foot in the tavern at all, although before he used to enjoy an occasional drink there with friends. And he insisted that I take charge of any spare coin we had—although it wasn’t often we had spare coin in those days. How could I hold onto his mistake in the face of all that?”
She sighed, looking around at the empty room. “There’s reason enough in a place like this to think only of those not worthy of our trust—and they exist, of course. If Gregor had not been repentant, if he had made no effort to win back my trust, I don’t know what I would have done. But if you choose someone who is able to admit when they’re wrong, and change when change is needed, then you can weather any obstacles together.”
She reached forward and patted my knee. “We all have a choice, Lady, when it comes to those we love. We can be forever holding onto the bad—because there will always be bad—or we can choose to see the good. First, choose yourself a man with a good heart, and then choose every day to see the good in him.”
Was it that easy? Could you just choose to trust someone, even though it might hurt one day?
“But I don’t know why you’re here nattering to me,” Vilma said with sudden briskness. “You’re wearing a beautiful dress, and a dance awaits. And also, I’m guessing, a certain handsome prince.” She winked at me. “If I were just ten years younger, I’d be hobbling up that forest road by your side. I always loved a dance.” A dreamy look filled her eyes.
I chuckled. “I bet you would, too. And fight a dragon, as well, if it came to it.” Vilma had always had more fire than the other residents.
“Of course I would, dearie, if I needed to,” said Vilma, as calmly as if I’d suggested that she might water some daisies.
I remembered the water in my hands and put it down carefully on a small table.
“I’ll dance an extra dance for you, Vilma,” I promised.