Raylen nodded in understanding. Well, that was good at least! He had only conversational grasps on German, and the basics of English. It would be good for the girls, and himself if he were being honest, to have someone who knew them fluently.
Six languages would be enough to get the girls started, wouldn’t it? Then he could worry about reading, writing, math, music, and art. If nothing else, his sisters would be intelligent and kind! He’d make sure of that. But then again, Spanish might not be too bad either…
“I…” He sighed. “I’m not sure. What do you think? Would six languages or seven give them their best chance?”
In any case, they could at least all learn those six now and take on Spanish later, right?
The man had started to blush at her compliment when his eyes narrowed suddenly, and he looked at the girl’s golden hair and sunken eyes for a moment. Still quite pretty she was, but much too thin. It was almost as if she was walking between the world of the living and the realm of the dead. That haunted look in the eyes, he knew it well.
“When did your parents die?” Raylen asked, before he could really stop himself. And immediately, he regretted the question. “I’m sorry. That, that was far too personal to ask. I shouldn’t have…”
Christ, he was bungling this! It would be a miracle if she didn’t take offense and run right now.
Eager to change the topic and show his contrition, Raylen swallowed thickly. “Um… Those, those all sound good to me. Maybe art as well? And dancing? You’d know better than I, mademoiselle, what would help them most in society.”
He flashed her a sincere and sheepish smile, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, would you like to meet-”
But before he could finish the question, the sound of little pitter patter echoed through the hall, and the little red head came running in as fast as her chubby little legs could carry her. “Papa!” She cried happily. “Papa, kom! Rosa zegt dat het tijd is voor de lunch!”
As Raylen scooped Bianca up, and tucked her curls behind her ear, he beamed. “Bianca, saluta la signorina Ella.”
The toddler turned and looked at her. And before Raylen could even blink, Bianca was giggling and reaching out for the young woman. “Tes cheveux sont comme les miens!” She laughed, taking the girl’s golden curls in her tiny hands and stroking them.
Well, that answered one question. Now he just had to see how Giorgia took to Bianca. “Evidently, Rosa’s told Bianca to tell us that lunch is ready.” Raylen continued, returning to French. “Would you care to stay and eat with us? Then you can have a chance to meet Giorgia.”
Head tilts downwards, hiding her laugh behind the wine glass. “Six languages will allow them to talk to anyone they want.” Ella is pretty sure that if they learn any other languages they will scare any potential suitors off, but she bites back the words, finding his determination to give his sisters everything they might possibly need refreshing (and just a little bit charming.) “And they have plenty of time to learn later. Languages fall out of fashion, we can wait and see which one will be more important for them to know in a few years.”
We falls easily from her lips, mind already churning what she thinks the girls might need in the coming years.
A lingering sadness crosses her features before being replaced by a melancholic smile, that still holds some of her usual cheer. A part of her died was buried alongside them, and talking about them always requires to revisit that the cold devastating feelings brought by their death. And yet, she smiles, because their time together had been filled with sunlit moments that would forever be her most precious memories. “I lost my mother when I was seven, my father died two years ago.”
“I miss them, and I don’t often get the chance to talk about them. Please, don’t feel bad.” she adds. “They were the most wonderful people in the world, and they loved each other and me very much. I miss them every single day of my life, but it’s easier now.” Shoulders drop, and she tilts her head, eyes warm.
Before she can reply, her attention is captured by the ball of sunlight and energy that bursts into the room. Bianca, she fills in by the age. Papa, her breath catches when she hears the word — he had been serious about this. Poor boy, she thinks again. Still, Ella cannot be sad when there is a child in the room, the joy bursting out from the young body is infectious and a grin stretches across her lips as she watches the exchange.
“Oof!” She giggles, grabbing the girl in her arms. “Oh, no. I don’t think they are the same at all, yours is much prettier! Look what pretty curls you have, and that color.” For a minute more, she continues murmuring with the girl, both of them playing with each other’s hairs before Bianca’s attention shifts back to her brother, talking again about lunch.
“I would like that very much.”
