Raising a Hero

Chapter 74

The night before mid-winter holiday, which was essentially a big Thanksgiving where everyone got together with their families and ate a big feast till they passed out, a blizzard to end all blizzards swept through, whiting out the area. I stared out of the window long after I'd gotten up in the morning, amazed at how little I could see.

"Guess we aren't going to the Inn for Mid-Winter," said Gus as he came up to sit with me.

"It's so cool..." I said.

"I guess, from this side of the window pane," he said.

"You're always so negative."

"I agreed with you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, whatever, how'd you sleep?"

We chatted for a bit about weird dreams we'd had and common themes, like your teeth falling out or going somewhere important while forgetting your pants. It surprised me that someone with as abnormal a past as Gus could still have some of the same dreams we all had. Even of someone from another world. He didn't think that was so odd, though. As he put it, 'we're both still human,' along with a funny, self-satisfied little smile. Don't know what had made him so happy.

Because of the blizzard, work in the duchy calmed down. The kitchen was still going a blazing readying the feast, but any errands, grounds work, even a lot of the cleaning, was put on hold so everyone could retreat to the warmth of a hearth with their loved ones. Roman even invited us to the comfort of the mansion's warmest sitting room with hot tea and, to sweeten the deal for all of us, warm apple-caramel cake.

"Our favorites go together to make the best dessert," he said happily as the maid served it on the coffee table.

It almost felt as though that cake was trying to cement us together as a family. I didn't know how I felt about that idea, but it sure tasted good. I still pondered on it long after I'd had my fill of cake. A comfortable silence had fallen over us as Gus went to a book he'd been working over lately and Roman went through some paper work. It was nice to not have to worry about Gus being rude to Roman, though he had gotten better. Though that may have just been because he avoided him.

The flames looked especially beautiful tonight too. Someone had thrown salt and copper flakes over the wood, turning the flames a gorgeous pink and green among the orange.

And, somewhere among the peaceful floating through my mind, I thought: This isn't bad at all...maybe...maybe it would be okay...

I looked over at Roman from where I sat on the soft carpet. He had his legs propped up on the sofa he sat on, dressed in a casual loose white shirt, black slacks and slippers. The room was warm enough that he didn't need a coat or blanket. His wavy black hair sometimes reflected the colors of the fire, like the sheen on a crows feathers. Even form this distance I could see the long fans of his eyelashes.

He scribbled something on a page before blowing on it and setting it on the coffee table. As he then moved to take his teacup next to the pile of pages, he caught me looking at him.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Something my brother told me," I said, reaching over for my teacup as well. I'd forgotten about it for a bit, so the tea had already gone cold. Still tasted good, though.

Roman's eyebrows peeked with interest. Even Gus put down his book.

"You have a brother?" said Gus.

I smiled to myself. "Haven't I ever mentioned him?"

"Not that I remembered. You rarely talk about your family, and only in passing. For all I know you were raised by a rock."

"Is it because I'm so buff and strong?" The tassels of my shawl danced as I flexed.

Gus rolled his eyes. "Sure. What he say?"

I looked back to the fire. "Hmm...this and that. Mainly that I stress too much about others feelings."

"You do," said Gus flatly.

"I'd have to agree," said Roman.

"Though sometimes, not enough," added Gus, thoughtfully. "Actually, it's more like you think so much about what could happen to someone's feelings that you completely jump over their feelings of the present. I think it's the future you over stress about more than feelings."

"Huh. Very well put, Gus," said Roman.

"...Thank you?"

"I think we all fall into that mishap, though," added Roman, straightening a page from his lap. "It's human nature to worry about the consequences of our actions. We would all do well to pay more attention to the present."

"Wouldn't that be irresponsible?" I said. "To only live in the present?"

"Oh, I didn't say 'only.' The key is balance."

"Or just to not worry at all," said Gus. "Guess that's what alcohol is for."

I looked at my 'little boy' in horror while Roman chuckled.

A drill and lecture about my apprentice's drinking habits later, the butler entered to invite us to our Mid-Winter feast.

And what a feast it was. Even if I had planned on having it with Gus and Milly. I hope they didn't feel bad that it was hard for me to feel regret due to the quality of the food. If I'd thought the food I'd been served at the mansion had been good before, boy, was I wrong. Even Gus looked ready to drop from his chair and start worshiping. Roman had even prepared that light, sweet wine I'd liked.

"You're such a girl," Gus had said after tasting it with a smile.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

He never clarified, but the curve of his mouth hadn't been mocking, so I let it go.

At the end of the feast we all ended back in the small, cozy sitting room again, where I inevitably fell asleep on the couch to the soft moaning of the storm outside.

It was definitely one of the most happy and peaceful memories I'd made so far in this world.

I stirred once or twice to a particularly loud gust, only to find that Gus and Roman had also fallen asleep on their respective couches and chairs. Someone had come in at some point to put blankets over the three of us.

The sight warmed me so deeply that it followed me into my dreams.

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My grandma worries about dying before my grandpa because then his closet will become completely unmanageable. I worry about that too--bout my husband dying before me, that is. Yes, his closet will become completely unmanageable without me. But also I don't want to share him. No marrying my widower. Mine. MINE. MY sweet and adorable grouchy husband! Find your own!