When, Where, and What: 1500s Sweden, before Vic was turned. A glimpse back in time.
Contains: Brief allusions to emotional abuse
Victoria hated dinner time.
Too many eyes, too many curious questions that she didn’t have the answers to, particularly from his parents.
“Did your mother enjoy flowers as much as you do?”
“You’ve got quite a talent, why didn’t your father indulge in your painting more?”
“How did she pass, again?”
As disrupting and unanswerable they felt, none of the questions came from a sinister, passive aggressive place, not like the questions her father asked. His questions weren’t the type that required answers at all.
Why must you stomp so loudly when you walk into a room, as if people care you’ve arrived?
When will you grow up and do away with those ridiculous hobbies of yours?
How do you expect to find a husband when you make yourself so unappealing?
She swallowed hard, though she’d yet to take a bite of food, and adjusted in her seat awkwardly. Victoria wished they’d switch to doting on their children, like they usually did. Both of them were used to it- that strange, bubbly feeling of being perceived and loved. It was why they were both so spoiled, she mused. Only one of them rotten.
“Where is she?”, the body next to her whined in his usual whiny tone. Victoria had never met a man who sulked so much, nor someone who found reasons to complain about the most ridiculous things. Of course she’d end up betrothed to someone so miserable. Perhaps it was payback for her own disposition as of late.
Her back sat stiff and strong, barely touching the chair she sat on, and she ignored his complaints. It seemed that most people elected to do the same. She shot her in-laws a strained smile, ready to offer them a polite answer that might satisfy them when Lyra suddenly waltzed in, dancing to music only she could hear.
She was too smitten to notice if the other’s faces brightened at her arrival as much as hers did, and perhaps Lyra was too. They locked eyes and shared a knowing look immediately, and Victoria had to look down at her plate to stop herself from smiling any wider, or even from laughing out loud, as if she were some kind of feral child. The air felt lighter. Their trysts at night had gotten longer and more bold, and it was clear to everyone that they were becoming closer. Maybe it wasn’t clear exactly how close, but it was so deliciously glorious to share a secret together.
“Late again, Darling. Do you enjoy making your family wait for their dinner?” Her fiancé’s father was trying to sound stern, but even he couldn’t stop from grinning when Lyra was near.
Gentle fingers brushed along her back as Lyra flitted by, and a tingle ran down her spine. Tension seemed to seem from her shoulders at even the lightest touch. Could Lyra see that too?
Lyra didn’t offer an explanation or apology- but then, she never did. She sat down in her seat across from Victoria, and all at once they were surrounded by food and drink, and more people doting on them. There were small conversations here and there, but their eyes kept finding each others in between.
The more that happened around them, the more the world seemed to melt away until she could have been sure it was just the two of them. Time slowed down and sped up all at once, and suddenly, Victoria realized she didn’t hate dinner time so much after all.
