Chapter Twelve
It would be preposterous for a child of nobility to be afraid of the dark and sleep in the same bed as his parents. This didn't mean he couldn't knock at their doors and complain about something though, or ask if they could set up a new tutor, or stuff like that. It wasn't something common, but neither was it uncommon. However, it was the first time I had actually knocked at their door rather than wait the morning, or the afternoon, or the last possible moment.
"Who is it?" Pierre's voice came through. "Jeannette?" the name of the head of the maid services came next, the one assigned to come wake them up even in the middle of the night if Cattleya had a fit of sorts, or grew a fever overnight.
"It's me, father," I said through the door. "I-I would like to speak with mother."
"Oh, Henry? Come in son, come in," Pierre's voice came through just as I opened the door, stepping inside and closing the door behind me awkwardly. Karin was sitting on a plush chair, her expression otherwise not betraying an ounce of her thoughts at the sudden and unexpected visit. She was wearing a nightgown, and had probably been beneath the sheets already -but had, in the name of appearances, somehow managed to cross the distance to the plush chair in a split second.
She also had her book upside down, but if she wanted so hard to give a good impression -which father wasn't giving, but then again he was Best-Dad, and Best-Dad would remain Best-Dad even if he was in his underpants and half-hidden by the bed sheets.
"I was just about to head to sleep, Henry," Karin said, thoughtfully placing the book on the small table by the side of the chair, the crackling fire of the fire pit starting to dim. "Like you should, too. Could it not wait tomorrow?"
"I did not wish to make this a public spectacle," I said with a wry smile. "And while it could wait tomorrow, I would rather be able to give Cattleya a good news now, rather than-"
"No," Karin said firmly. "I understand what you're trying to ask, Henry, and the answer is no."
"Not the princess' birthday, mother! I understand that," I said hastily, shaking my head. "That was the right choice. Cattleya's too sick to make the trip to the capital without some risk, and I understand that. Really, I do," I pressed on. "But you remember when Eleonore turned of age? Where she had that big party-"
"What makes you think I wouldn't make a party also for your sister, Henry?" Karin asked, her expression confused.
"With people other than us and the servants," I stressed on. "Other nobles, and their children, because-"
"Henry," Karin said firmly. "Your sister's health has its highs and its lows. One day she looks fine, the next she barely manages to breathe. She has high fevers, and I know it must be hard on her-but it's in her best interests."
"But she would be at home, and I would keep an eye on her -I wouldn't let her push herself. I swear I'd-"
"Henry," Karin said firmly, "My answer remains no."
I clenched my fists. "Not even if I say that I'll get a manticore?" I asked softly.
Karin shook her head. "It's not about a manticore or a hippogriff. It's about your sister's well-being. Her health is more important than a party, or of your choice pick on a familiar, no matter-"
"It's about making friends," I said softly. "Cattleya feels lonely, mother-Please. She just wants to meet new people, talk to them, make friends-she doesn't have to move. We could put some wheels on a chair and push her along-she wouldn't need to walk and would tire considerably less-" I took a small breath, and squared my jaw. "She wants this, mother. She really wants this. Maybe there can only be a few nobles? Not everyone needs to be invited. Just a few-"
"That would offend the others," Karin said. "It would either need to be a grand party, or it would not be wise to do a party at all."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Mother, I am not in the habit of going against you. I swear, that is the last thing I wish, and I do understand everything you've said. I just wish for you to consider whether to live in a prison of golden bars for the rest of her life is Cattleya's wish...or if it's yours." I looked at Karin, "It's her life, mother. If you want to keep her healthy, I understand. But...will it be worth it if she'll be unhappy all through it?"
Karin remained quiet, and clenched her jaw tightly. I knew she was thinking about it, and I could understand her thoughts, and her decisions. Even if she said no, I'd still understand it.
"Karin," Pierre said gently from the bed. "Our son's making quite the compelling argument, don't you think? And we'll be around her, and her physician will be there too. She could have an attack any moment of the day-whether it's during a party or not. It wouldn't change anything, would it?"
Karin bit down on her lower lip, and then turned towards me. "You'll get the manticore?" the hidden words were at the very least, promise me you won't be making me worry by using a glorified poultry as a war mount? And I smiled before nodding.
Of course, I'd rather be flung around in a tornado then summon a Manticore, but hey, it would be in a few years, and she might forget all about this.
"I still think it would be wise to wait a bit more," Karin said hesitantly, "Maybe when she's fifteen? Perhaps-"
"Mother..." I said with a small smile, "We are no longer your cute chubby little balls of cuteness and rosy cheeks that I would just love to eat wubble-wubble-wubble," I said that with my smile growing a few sizes just as Karin's eyes in turn widened, her skin turning ashen pale, if briefly. Pierre actually choked on his own spit.
"I-I-Ah-I do not know what you're saying, Henry," Karin said, the shock evident since she barely managed to hold back her stammer due to her years of self-control.
"Mother...I do vaguely remember," I said with a nod. "I might have remembered incorrectly a few words, but I guess the sense was there? I mean, I think I was Grumpy Henry because I was always grumpy, or something like that? It's a bit foggy, but..."
"Henry," Karin said, her voice like that of the cold crypts opening up to allow for Death to walk out. "You must be confusing yourself with a dream."
I nodded. "I might," I said. "But it's a bit of a pity. I'm proud of my mother, but I guess I'd be actually happier to know she also had a side of hers that would be willing to act in a more open and motherly way-" I sighed, and made a tiny bow. "Please, do think about giving Cattleya an answer soon. Goodnight," and as I made my retreat, I barely heard the half-mechanic goodnight in answer of Best-Dad, who was as shocked as Karin, or perhaps even more.
I knew I had it in the bag.
Perhaps if I managed to mollify her, Louise would stand a chance at not being absolutely scared senseless by her?
...
...A man can dream...can he?
