TWENTY-EIGHT
contrition
“I didn’t expect to see you,” Tilda said with ice in her voice, but she’d let me into her place, so it couldn’t be all bad.
She lived in a small apartment above an electronics store. On the outside, the store appeared to be an ordinary shop, like a haberdashery from a village in a fairy tale. But inside, it was filled with slick gadgets—all of them a model or two behind whatever was most popular with the humans, since we did a horrible job of stocking and ordering things. Besides, there wasn’t that much of a demand for them in Doldastam.
Still, Tilda’s apartment had to be one of the more modern spaces in town. Her furniture reminded me of the hotel I’d visited in Calgary, and she had a stainless steel dishwasher next to her sink—the only one I’d ever seen in Doldastam. A flat-screen TV sat across from her sofa, and while TV wasn’t unheard-of here, it wasn’t exactly a staple in every home.
“So what is it that I can do for you?” Tilda folded her arms over her chest, and the loose fabric of her tank top shifted, showing the slight swelling of her belly that I should’ve realized the significance of sooner.
“I just wanted to talk to you.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and tried not to visibly recoil under the scrutiny of her glare. “I needed to apologize for the things I said yesterday. I was out of line.”
“Damn right you were,” Tilda snapped, but she stepped back from me, giving me room to move in from the entryway. She sighed and rolled her eyes before turning to walk into the kitchen. “Do you want anything? I was gonna make some tea.”
“Sure. I’ll have whatever you’re having,” I said, following behind her.
“Blackberry and hibiscus it is.” Her long chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and it swayed behind her as she moved around, putting the kettle on the stove to boil, and getting the tea and cups out from the cupboard.
Then she turned back to face me, her arms once again crossed over her chest, her gray eyes staring at me expectantly. “So? Where’s the apology?”
“I am really and truly sorry for everything that I said to you at the meeting yesterday,” I told her emphatically. “I was upset about things that weren’t your fault and really had nothing to do with you, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You’re my friend, and I should’ve been happy for you.”
“That’s true.” She relaxed a bit. “You have your own bag of issues with love and relationships that I don’t even wanna get into, but that is your deal, and you had no right to take it out on me.”
“No. You’re absolutely right,” I agreed. “I acted like a jerk for no reason, and I’m sorry. Honestly, I’m very happy for you. If you’re happy and this is what you want.”
“I am happy, and this is what I want.” Her whole face lit up when she put her hand on her stomach. “I love Kasper, and although this baby wasn’t exactly planned, I’m happy about it.”
“You’ll make a great mom,” I said, and I meant it.
She smiled gratefully at me. “Thank you.”
The kettle whistled, so she turned away and poured the hot water into cups. Carefully, she scooped the fresh tea leaves from the tin, and filled two acorn-shaped infusers with the leaves before dropping them in the cups.
“Now, what’s going on with you this morning?” Tilda asked as she handed me a cup.
I leaned back against the counter and sipped my tea before replying. “What do you mean?
“Bags under your eyes, your hair isn’t brushed, and you look like hell,” she said bluntly. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
I ran my fingers through my tangles of hair, trying to smooth it out, before giving up. “I got some sleep.”
“So what was keeping you up?” she asked.
Last night, I kissed Ridley, and then ran away so fast that by the time I got home I could barely breathe. It was a horrible, terrible mistake that I had no idea how to correct, but it was also wonderful and magical, and part of me—too large of a part, really—kept trying to figure out how to make it happen again.
“That might be too much to get into right now,” I said, because it was much easier than explaining anything else, and I bobbed the infuser up and down in my cup.
A key clicked in the lock, and both Tilda and I looked at the front door to her apartment. Her boyfriend Kasper pushed open the door, dressed in his H?gdragen uniform. The fabric fit snugly on his broad shoulders, and his black hair was cropped in short, neat curls.
“I didn’t expect you home so early,” Tilda said. “I thought you were working today.”
“I am, but I’m actually here looking for Bryn.” He motioned to me, and I straightened up and away from the counter.
“Me? Why? And how did you even know I’d be here?” I asked.
“I stopped by your place, and you weren’t there, so I thought maybe Tilda might know where you were,” Kasper explained. “There’s urgent business at the palace.”
I set my cup of tea down. “What do you mean?”
“Is something wrong?” Tilda asked.
“I don’t know.” He gave her an apologetic look and shook his head. “They just sent me to get Bryn, and said the King and Queen want to see you immediately.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” Tilda smiled at me, but worry filled her eyes. “And when you’re done, just let me know if you need anything, okay?”
I nodded, and then waited as Kasper kissed her briefly on the lips. Tilda walked us to the door, and I followed Kasper down the stairs and out to the street. He took long, deliberate steps, the way all the H?gdragen were taught to. I tried to match my pace to his, but he was much taller than me, which made it a bit harder.
“I don’t know what it’s about, but I don’t think you’re in trouble.” He glanced back at me, making sure I was keeping up.
“Then what is it?” I pressed.
“I really can’t say more, Bryn.”
He shook his head, and looked ahead again, quickly weaving through the busy marketplace as we made our way toward the palace. People parted for him out of respect for his uniform, and some of the younger kids even stopped to stare.
I had no idea what could possibly be going on, but the King and Queen had a sent a member of the H?gdragen to personally retrieve me. That did not bode well.