Valdís

She'd already missed so much of the conversation.

Valdís held her breath, fingers running over the ring on her other hand as she counted the beads in her head, forcing eye contact with the people around her.

The others laughed, so she did as well. It was not a charming kind. She didn't know what that would look like anyway, but her mother had so helpfully pointed it out earlier so Valdís would take her word for it.

Focus.

"And I could not for the life of me recall who made those arrangements," Lady Fulton said, and Valdís had no idea in what context. They had been talking about shoes the last time she'd listened, so what arrangement?

"— if you didn't receive help before then," Lord Nowery finished his sentence, and Valdís cursed on the inside. Her thoughts had blocked out sounds again and she'd missed the first half of the sentence.

And now she'd missed Lady Fulton's response while thinking that.

Another dignified chuckle between the group, and Valdís managed another smile of clueless agreement.

"That is actually quite common with syncope," Doctor Goodwin said. "If you stand up too quickly—"

"Oh! Have you noticed how Camillo never uses syncopations in his symphonies anymore?" Valdís blurted out. It was then or seemingly never. She had to partake in the conversation somehow, and she would not let the others move on now that she had a chance. "He used to be so fond of them, but apparently the grand inquisitors in Traque have suggested that accents on a supposedly wrong beat is a 'a source of occult power'. Like it could lead people into being possessed or morally corrupt, or just believe anything they're told which would give The Waste a foothold in their minds."

A brief silence, and Valdís let them all take in the hilarious information.

"... Is that so, Your Grace?" Doctor Goodwin smiled. "I did not know that."

Valdís brightened up.

"It's fascinating, isn't it? In a curious, perplexing way. How would that even make sense? Why would syncopated songs cause such horror? Yet they claim music in itself is a moral issue, as it relies on tone and how it's used to show motives through the way it's written, which can be used by darker forces to influence those who listen to the 'wrong' kind, but it's not like Phion himself is going to come down and reprimand humans just for listening to a different type of composition. It sounds to me like they're looking for a way to underpay our best composers, but either way I'd say they're making a mistake. He might as well take his work elsewhere if the sanctuaries won't make it worth his while. Of course, it's doubtful he'll find as wealthy a client as them, but if they're hindering his artistic process, I can't blame him."

The more she looked around as she went on, however, the less people seemed to be listening. They'd begun straightening their clothes or looking around aimlessly, but worst of all, some of them were looking at each other while smiling.

But not the good kind of smile.

Heat rose in Valdís' cheeks, and words failed her the more she retreated into her mind again.

"So, uh..." She blanked, panic engulfing her as the others waited. They had to, she supposed. Her title demanded it so they would play along, but Valdís had seen those expressions before, and they were not friendly. "... I hope they acknowledge his talent, and... uh..."

"Oh, there you are, Your Grace!" A hand landed on her shoulder, and Valdís dared to breathe out at the sound of his voice. "I've been looking everywhere."

"Lord Clausson." Valdís found her words again, with a weak but at least genuine smile curving her lips as she turned to face Claus. "Is something wrong?"

"Horrendously wrong." Claus shook his head while grabbing her other shoulder as well to lead her away. "Your mother is livid."

Valdís paled, and she searched the crowd for said person.

"She— She is?" She combed through her mind for clues to what it could be. She couldn't have found out about that somehow, could she? How would that have happened?. "Did I do something? I—"

"I should have thought of a better excuse," Claus said, having switched from Wyperan to speak in Hrimska while they walked towards a less crowded part of the room. "You looked uncomfortable so I figured you could use some space."

Valdís exhaled, grateful she could communicate with someone on a casual level without anyone else understanding.

"So she's... Not upset?"

"Not more than her usual attitude, no."

Valdís looked over at the group again, where they'd turned to talk to each other again but in a hushed manner, suggesting they didn't want whatever they were now discussing to be overheard.

"I think I messed up again," she mumbled, eyes wandering down to her fidgeting hands. "And now they'll for certain tell others about it."

"Forget them, Shortcake." Claus waved his hand dismissively, sending the gossipers a disdainful look. "Not like they matter to someone like you."

"But they'll talk to others who might matter."

"Well, forget them too, then." Claus shrugged, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Valdís' ear. "How about we get away for a bit?"

Valdís' stomach suddenly cramped as she looked at him, being reminded of her previous nervousness as he'd pulled her away. Of all people, he was the only one she could confide in, but it was a difficult issue nonetheless.

"Get away, how?"

"If you're up for it, Will and I were gonna throw hazelnuts from the balcony, see who hits the most." Claus smirked. "Different points depending on the person."

Valdís sighed on the inside.

"I don't think he likes me too much. Besides, aren't we getting too old for things like that?"

Claus chuckled.

"Well, you don't make it much of a secret that you don't like him either, but it would be nice if you could get along." He looked around before leaning forward to straighten out a small wrinkle in her sleeve. "And you're only recently seventeen, and I'm barely a year above that so I'd say we're plenty young enough."

Another crawling sensation of anxiety, and Valdís swallowed. They were young, she had to concede. Arguably too young for many things.

"I just... Don't get along with people in general." Valdís lowered her voice. "And I don't want to embarrass you."

Claus laughed, having turned his attention briefly to another imperfection, this time in form of a small stain on his coat.

"Have you met me? You couldn't embarrass me more than I embarrass myself in a million years." He gave up on the persistent stain and took her hands to lead her away again. "But I could see Will later, if you want. We could go somewhere just the two of us."

Valdís' stomach hurt again, but perhaps it was a good idea to talk about it.

"Alright." She nodded, folding her hands tight. "For a little while, before Mother finds out."

"She's never noticed before."

So while Claus distracted the footmen by the parlour door, Valdís snuck past them to head for the stairs. She gathered up her skirts before ascending them as fast as she could, yet Claus was not far behind her as she reached the second floor.

"Here." He hurried into the corridor to the right. "Look at this."

He opened a nearby door to show Valdís inside.

She raised her eyebrows as she entered, immediately spotting the large piano.

"How did they get that up the stairs?"

"One has to assume they assembled it on the spot." Claus walked up to it without further ado. "Perks of not having to care about money, I guess. I think this house is bigger than my family's."

"Well, it's hard to build a house this big in the middle of town." Valdís looked out the window. "Compared to here on the countryside."

"Apparently my parents are considering buying it." Claus sat down by the piano. "For that reason, probably. Would be nice with something bigger, and to get away from all the noise from time to time."

He pressed down a key, followed by another one, and Valdís winced.

"It's out of tune."

Claus blinked, looking down at the keys before pressing down several of them at a time.

"Really?"

"Just a little, but enough." Valdís grimaced further at the sound. "You don't hear it?"

"I'm sure it's fine." He began playing, if one could call it that. "See? Beautiful."

Valdís had to assume he was joking, but she still made a face as he began humming along with the cacophony.

"Oohhh, Shortcaake," he then sang in an exaggerated, deep voice, not even near whatever tune he was trying to play. "I wrote this song for youuu. It took me two and a half seconds, or not even thaaaat... Because I'm doing this as I gooooo."

Valdís shook her head with a reluctant laugh.

"How are you so bad at this?"

"I'veeee... Never had a pianooo at hooome."

"Well, it shows." Valdís walked closer to lean against the piano as he played, still irked by the noise but for some reason she wanted to keep listening to the chaotic tribute.

"You knooow, I'm really gonna miss youuuu..." Claus continued, looking up with a bittersweet look in his eyes. "This year's been the best one of my liiiife."

Valdís clenched her fists hard. That's right, she was leaving in two days, so she had to tell him.

"Claus..."

"I wiish, you didn't have to go all the way hooome." Claus didn't hear her. "Hrimrike is so faaar awaaay."

"I'm pregnant," Valdís raised her voice, and Claus' eyes widened as he unthinkingly slammed down the keys all at once.

The sudden silence after all the discordant sounds was at least a small comfort, though Valdís had covered her ears out of reflex at that last, loud noise.

"You're..." Claus' jaw had fallen open, for once having to search for words. "... How?"

"How?" Valdís had to raise an eyebrow, hoping she wouldn't have to have that talk with him.

"I— I mean, I know how, but..." He trailed off, and Valdís' discomfort grew. Of course he'd be upset. They were too young, and they were not evenly matched in rank, and for all Valdís knew, their relationship might as well have been a casual summer romance to him. One that would end naturally as she returned to Hrimrike with her family.

Then Claus laughed.

"Damn, our families are gonna kill us." He stood up from the chair, and Valdís furrowed her brow. "At the very least your mother will."

"Right?" Valdís' hands trembled as she strained them to hold still, anxiety growing as her worries were confirmed by another person. "I don't— I don't know what to do."

"It's alright." Claus held out his arms to let her lean into them, and he pressed her close while whispering into her ear. "It'll be alright, I promise."

"So you're... Not upset?"

"How could I be?" Claus pulled away slightly to beam at her. "I love you."

Valdís' lip trembled, and she lowered her gaze.

"Are you certain?" She leaned forward to bury her face into his shoulder. "I'm not... The easiest person to love."

"Sounds more like you're a liar when you talk like that."

"And there's gonna be a lot of trouble, you know?"

Claus lowered his eyes as well.

"Probably, but... If it's for you... Well, for us, really..." He raised a hand to place it against her stomach. "... It's trouble I'm happy to face, you know?"

The tension in Valdís' shoulders eased up a little, consequently allowing her hands some flicking motions as a slight excitement bloomed in her chest.

"And you feel ready to be a parent?" she had to ask, unsure whether or not Claus had understood the gravity of it all. "It's quite sudden after all, and I don't know the first thing about being a mother."

"Oh, I'm gonna be the best father," Claus assured her with a grin. "I'll spoil the kid rotten."

Valdís had to laugh at that.

"That is not a good attitude to have."

"I think you'll change your mind when the day comes."

A knock on the door made them both jump, but for better or worse it was not Valdís mother, though not the most convenient person either.

"Oh, Will." Claus breathed out as his friend entered the room with a sceptical look. "Sorry, I just wanted to talk to Valdís for a bit."

"Yeah, I saw when you left." William shrugged, with a smile Valdís couldn't discern the nature of. "I actually ran into her mother and sent her the wrong way, but I reckon she's looking for you, Your Grace."

Valdís pinched her lips together as she was addressed, but a pleading look from Claus ended up swaying her. It would be inconvenient for him if she couldn't get along with his best friend. Especially if they were to stay together permanently.

"Thank you, Lord Carrigan," she therefore said, unable to put any real gratitude into her voice. "I was not aware you supported this to such an extent."

"Why wouldn't I support Claus finding someone of a higher title than him?" William shrugged. "Even if it's just temporary."

"Actually—" Claus began, but must have felt the burning stare from Valdís as he didn't continue the sentence, instead clearing his throat. "Yes, well... We were done talking for now, so... Did you get the hazelnuts?"

"Long ago." William shook his head before holding up a bag of nuts. "Been feeling rather awkward walking around with them for so long. They don't exactly fit into my pocket."

"Yeah, my bad." Claus rubbed his neck before looking at Valdís. "Will you be alright from here, Shortcake?

Valdís forced a smile, wishing he could stay with her forever.

"Of course."

She hurried towards the grand parlour again as soon as they left. If her mother was looking for her there was no time to waste. She'd be more upset for every second she couldn't find her.

"Mother," she said as soon as she reached her, trying to sound like she hadn't just been running. "I ran into Lord Carrigan, and he said you were looking for me."

"Why, yes," Lovisa Carlsdóttir said, curling her lip as she eyed her daughter up and down. "Where were you?"

"I just... You know..." Valdís gestured vaguely with her hands, and her mother frowned.

"You can't keep leaving any time you want, just because you claim to not be feeling well."

"But I don't—"

"It happens too often, and our family, of all people, should be able to withstand gatherings like this."

"I apologise, Mother." Valdís averted her eyes, which disgruntled her mother further.

"And don't look away when you're talking to someone." She then reached forward to separate Valdís hands, noticing the ring. "And what in the world is that?"

"Uh... Lord Clausson gave it to me." Valdís' voice grew faint. "He thought it could help with my hands. Something to keep them occupied, you know?"

Lovisa looked no more impressed than before.

"You don't need cheap jewellery for that, you just need to focus more." She looked out over the crowd. "And it should go without saying it's not appropriate for young men to gift young women rings like that. Someone could misinterpret the gesture."

Valdís swallowed, and she folded her hands into a tight grip.

"So... Since you brought it up..." She fought to keep her words steady, mouth increasingly dry by the second. "... Is he so bad?"

She hadn't thought it was possible for her mother to wrinkle her nose deeper.

"Lord Clausson?" Her voice was far from pleased. "He's much too immature for his age, and his family isn't exactly up to our standards."

"Well, his family runs this town," Valdís tried. "He'll become town chief soon enough."

"But you're a duchess."

"I— I know, but..." Valdís heart was beating at an alarming rate, and her hands wanted to break free from their grip around each other. "... I think it would be a good fit. After this year, and— and after getting to know him better... I think it wouldn't be so bad."

Her mother stared her down, reading her expression and words like a book before closing her eyes in exasperation.

"... How far along are you?"

"I don't know," Valdís barely managed to squeak, finding the idea of facing her mother impossible. "Long enough to be certain."

Perhaps it had been a great choice to tell her at that time and place, because her mother couldn't cause a scene. She couldn't scold her with harsh, loud words, and she could definitely not slap her.

"I will speak to his family." Lovisa's voice was full of contempt regardless, but she straightened her back to look down at her daughter. "But you do realise the position you've put us all in?"

Valdís' hands flicked themselves loose from each other for a moment, and her mother stilled them with a hard grip.

"And do something about that already," she hissed so low only Valdís could hear. "See another doctor or something— I don't care what you do, as long as you can start behaving like a normal person."

"I..." Valdís swallowed again, trying to say something she hadn't already responded with every time her mother had criticised her about it. "... I will talk to doctors here in Kerilia. Maybe they know more than the ones back home."

"You'd better hope so." Lovisa released her grip with a huff. "You don't want it spreading to your children, do you?"

Valdís bit her lip, blinking back sudden tears from her eyes.

"No."

***

He was talented beyond imagination, almost uncannily so.

"Not even thirteen years, and you have no trouble keeping up with me." Valdís smiled as she looked up from the piano to address Frey. "Perhaps we should throw out the sheet music all together."

Frey looked up from the piano as well, leaving no one to look at the piano despite both of them still playing.

"They're nice to look at though." He gave his hands one hasty glance to make sure they weren't slipping from their practised movements. "It doesn't feel like a proper visual without it."

Valdís considered it.

"I suppose not."

It was the only words they'd spoken to each other for fifteen minutes. They'd just kept playing through song after song with only nods and small pauses to rest their hands before continuing. Valdís didn't mind, and Frey didn't seem to either. It was a peaceful afternoon, and though she'd told him to take a break from his studies she hadn't expected him to spend it by the piano with her.

"There," she said as they finally finished the last song she'd prepared for them. "That's all of them."

"Almost too easy, we could have done more," Frey said, staring down at the keys before flapping his hands, and Valdís tensed up.

"Frey..."

Frey forced them down as soon as she uttered the word. Perhaps he'd just learned what that tone in her voice meant by that point.

"I know... I'm trying."

At first, she'd done her best to ignore it and just let it be. From the first moment she noticed a pattern when he was smaller. Noticed how he reminded her of herself at that age, and it kept happening. He was evolving the same way she did, and it troubled her to no end.

A pang burst through the room as the door flung open. Valdís handled it with just an eye-twitch to suggest it felt like a thunderstrike had landed right next to her, while Frey raised his hands in an attempt to cover his ears, pausing as he caught himself doing it before lowering them again.

"Claus," Valdís began, but knew he couldn't hear her as he was tackled to the floor, laughing as a wooden-sword wielding Annarósa let out a war cry above him while Sigveig held him down as well as her small arms could.

"Ow! Shortcake!" Claus pleaded with a grin, blocking Annarósa's strikes with his forearm. "Shortcake, tell your daughters to stand down!"

"You brought this on yourself," Valdís decreed, not without regrets as it would lead to continued chaos. "I know I didn't buy those swords for them."

"I didn't think they would use them against me!"

"So you thought they would use them against me, then?" Valdís arched an eyebrow. "Or their brother?"

She gestured over to Frey, realising then the strained look on his face, and she drew a quiet breath.

"You're alright," she tried to convince him with a low voice. "Just endure it for a little longer."

"Have you been to the stables today, Frey?" Claus asked before Valdís could continue, and Frey let out a breath.

"No, but I think it's time," he said through the mind numbing noise of Annarósa's continued mauling of her father. "I got lost in the music and forgot the time."

Before Valdís could even send her husband a disapproving glare, Frey had stood up from his seat and hurried out the door.

"Alright, Gooseberry, could you take your sister and go over war strategies in your room for a while?" Claus proceeded with a pat on Annarósa's head. "I'll have the cook prepare something sweet in the meantime."

With the ever so popular promise of sweets, Valdís and Claus were left alone in a matter of seconds, and the latter turned to give his wife a reprimanding look.

"Valdís..."

"I thought we'd agreed on teaching him how to withstand it," she mumbled before turning away to face the piano again. "He's not going to learn if you always let him run off when things get worse."

"You have to understand I can't support it." Claus sat down next to her. "Of all people, shouldn't you be the one to know what it's like for him?"

"Which is why I know how to help him."

"Do you?" Claus shook his head. "Because to me this looks like how your mother used to treat you, and you expect that to work?"

"It did." Valdís' grip around her hands tightened. "I can control it, can't I?"

"At what cost? Are you enjoying those back pains from straining your arms all the time? The exhaustion after every overwhelming event? The tears and pain when you can't hold it back anymore and you break down because you're so convinced you have to hide it in order to fit some mould others have created?"

"He's going to face that pain as well, with or without my intervention." Valdís gritted her teeth. They'd had that conversation already, multiple times. She had thought he'd finally relented, but he was so persistent. "Either I prepare him for how people will treat him if he shows it, or he'll find out on his own when it happens. I know I'm being hard on him but I have no choice, especially now that he's going away."

"He'll be surrounded by venomous people, yes," Claus agreed, but was still not convinced. "But don't you think our support is even more important with that in mind?"

"I've never said we're not going to support him, Claus." Valdís finally turned to scowl at her husband. "We are supporting him, by teaching him how to behave in front of others. I know you enjoy spoiling him but it can't go on forever, and if he wants to succeed on his own, he needs people to respect him. He does not have the title I used to have as a shield, not that it helped me much anyway."

Claus opened his mouth to protest again, but he closed it. As he'd done before. Ultimately, he tried to understand her point of view. She was the one with the experience, and if she said it was for the best, he had to believe it was.

No matter how wrong it seemed to him.

"Very well, I'll try to remind him if I need to." He placed a hand on Valdís folded ones. "But I'd like you to do something in return."

Valdís knitted her eyebrows, but waited for him to continue.

"Spend time with him," Claus urged her. "Actually bond with him, so his relationship with you isn't built solely on criticism."

"We spend time with each other every day," Valdís protested. "We play the piano all the time."

"But you barely talk."

"We don't need to." Valdís felt offended, but discomfort grew inside her. Perhaps Claus was right. He talked to Frey all the time. She had assumed since Frey had barely wanted to talk for most of his childhood, he had no interest in it, but perhaps she'd read things wrong. It would not be the first time.

"Just a little," Claus suggested. "Try to show your affection a little more clearly."

It was Valdís' turn to relent.

"... I'll try."

"I was going to join him at the stables later," Claus said with a gesture towards the door. "Why don't you go in my stead?"

"What would my excuse be?"

Claus was clearly stifling a laugh.

"That you want to spend time with your son, perhaps?"

"Will he buy that?" Valdís looked down at her tightly clasped hands. "He won't think I'm there to scold him?"

"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about."

Valdís grimaced.

"When I think of it like that, I suppose..."

She still felt awkward as she walked towards the stables, as if her gait was off. As if she had to lean forward to keep her balance. Her riding attire seemed ancient by her family's standards. She hadn't brought it out for years and it didn't quite fit her anymore, but it was all she had.

She arrived at the stables just as Frey was talking to the grooms at a rapid speed with a withering expression suggesting they'd have vacancies in their staff by the end of the day.

"Well, I suppose he could take his emotions out on them, if he must," she mumbled to herself. "Not like their opinions matter in the long run."

Quite unbecomingly, the grooms saw her arrival as a chance to escape her son's harsh words, and with a bow and hasty greeting they soon scurried off.

"Mother," Frey acknowledged before looking around. "Where's Father?"

Valdís tried to smile, feeling a sting in her chest.

"We, uh— I thought perhaps I could join you today?"

Frey beamed back at her. If he was dismayed by her presence, she couldn't tell. He was better than her at pretending. Perhaps even better than most. Had it not been for his stims and occasional inability to handle social situations, she may not have had to worry about his outward appearance.

"It's been a long time since I saw you out here," Frey said while leading his horse out of the stables. "When did you ride last?"

Valdís honestly couldn't say.

"Well, I've been busy with other things," she lied. She could have put time aside if she'd wanted to, she just didn't share her son's and husband's enthusiasm when it came to horses. "So... Should I lead the horse then?"

Frey blinked, smile unrelenting and eyes fixed to her as if his life depended on it.

He was practising so hard.

"No, I can ride a horse on my own by now... Since a few years back."

"Oh." Valdís held back a grimace. "It really has been long, hasn't it?"

"So it would seem." Frey got up on his horse with surprising speed given the size of his horse and him not quite having hit his growth spurt yet. "But I'm sure you'll get used to it. Father's horse is wonderful so I doubt he'll be much trouble."

Valdís leaned to the side to give the horse next to Frey's a glance. It was larger, and possibly steadier than his but intimidating enough.

But she'd promised Claus, so up she climbed.

"You got it?" Frey asked while she adjusted her seat. "Do you need help?"

"Not at all." Valdís clenched her jaw, pretty sure horses had not been that hard to balance on before. "It's just been a while."

Her knuckles whitened around the reins as they moved forward. Given the time Claus and Frey usually spent on their walks, it would be a long route. Would she manage that without falling off?

"Listen, Frey..." she began, hoping her anxiety regarding the conversation would let her forget where she was. "... I know I'm not the most pleasant person to be around."

"What? Of course you are, Mother," Frey said through a charming laugh, and Valdís was once again unsure if he was faking it. "Why would you say that?"

"Well... We don't spend much time together."

"Don't we?" Frey raised an eyebrow as Valdís looked back at him. "We play the piano together all the time, almost every day."

"Yes, but your father has suggested we should... Talk more."

Frey kept his smile going, but a wrinkle formed between his eyebrows.

"Do we... Have to?"

Valdís' mood sank further, and she held the reins impossibly tight to keep her hands still.

"Like I said, I know I'm not the best of company but I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me, even though—"

"No, I mean do we need to talk to spend time together?"

It was Valdís' turn to blink in confusion.

"What?"

"It's not like I don't enjoy talking to Father, but I love playing the piano with you." Frey's smile had faded slightly, which would usually not be a good thing but his look seemed more genuine like that. It was his usual, unpractised expression. "I don't want to talk all the time. That doesn't mean I don't want to talk to you, it just means that I appreciate the time we spend together just the way we do. In a silence we know we can break, but we don't have to."

"Is that... So?" Valdís still found it hard to believe. There had to be a hidden message there. "I suppose with the way I talk whenever we do, it's not something you'd enjoy anyway."

"Mother, what's with you?" Frey asked with an impeccable amount of sympathy in his voice. "It's not like you to be this... Insecure?"

"I want you to know that I don't like telling you off," Valdís said without acknowledging his concerns, once again having to turn her face away. "I just worry. I wish I could leave it alone but I don't want people to hurt you even more."

"I know that. I never assumed you'd correct it to be cruel."

"Still, I'm... Sorry."

"I'll be alright." Frey's tone implied he was beaming in an impossibly sunshiny way again. "People seem to love me so far, and many of them have let their guard down enough for me to dig up some dirt on them. So it must be working."

Valdís sighed. It had not been her intention to teach Frey how to blackmail people, but after spending so much time around high class adults with less than good morals, she supposed it was only a matter of time.

"Mother?"

"Hm?" Valdís glanced back at him, and Frey gestured at her horse.

"You don't want to ride, do you?"

Valdís' gaze lingered while she gave it some thought, and then her nose scrunched up with a smile.

"I didn't think so," she admitted. "But I changed my mind."