§ § § – October 29, 2008
They found Christian's two surviving older siblings and their spouses in the suite Carl Johan and Amalia had shared for almost four decades; they were sipping glasses of Lilla Jordsö's indigenous apple wine when Daniel followed Christian and Leslie inside. Leslie had managed to calm down for the most part, though she felt as though she were balancing on a razor edge. Her head felt a little too big for her body, and she knew if she had any of that wine, she was likely to get spectacularly drunk; she also knew she probably shouldn't have any at all, being pregnant. But she accepted a glass anyway when Anna-Laura offered her one. "You look as though you need it, poor thing," the princess observed with a sympathetic smile. "We have plenty of eplavin in the cellars, so don't hold back. It seems to be a night to justify letting loose."
Carl Johan had been squinting hard at Leslie, and now when she and Christian sat down across from him and Amalia, he asked worriedly, "Leslie, are you all right?"
"Are any of us all right?" Christian retorted with a raised brow, which his brother gave right back to him. He grinned crookedly for half a second. "But no, even in comparison with the rest of us, she's not. She's afraid the family and the people will ultimately blame her for Briella's death." At his siblings' and in-laws' incredulous looks, he explained to them what he had told Daniel shortly beforehand.
Carl Johan shook his head, still looking weary, but smiling kindly, if wanly. "Leslie, for fate's sake," he scolded in gentle tones. "No one blames you for Briella's death. No, I don't care that you sent her that message, and neither do the rest of us. Christian showed us the copy he printed out before you came back with Briella's body. You made it very plain that you felt it was unwise for Arnulf's girls to offer themselves for the trial; what happened after that was Briella's responsibility and no one else's." He fielded Leslie's lingering doubt, read it correctly, and shook his head, still smiling. "No, even Kristina doesn't blame you."
Leslie's tears flooded over, just like that. "I can't believe it...I just...you're all so generous. I...I've felt so horrible for days."
Christian, whose hand had been threading through her hair in comforting strokes, leaned forward and studied her. "Leslie, I think something more is wrong. You're not as relaxed as you should be. What's really the matter?"
She covered her mouth and stared at him as if he'd just ripped her soul out of its container. "Christian, omigod...how in the world do you read me like that?"
He grinned again, then kissed her forehead and said, "I love you, Leslie, and I'm in constant tune to you." Growing serious, he tangled his fingers in her hair again. "You're so certain that we're going to hold you responsible for things you had no control over; you haven't unloaded on any of us, not even me; you're so obviously walking on eggshells around us all, we aren't quite sure it's you. You're holding yourself apart. Why?"
She hesitated, hanging on the edge of telling him and being afraid to, especially with five other family members as witnesses. As if sensing her dilemma, Daniel arose. "I think I'd better go. I wanted...I wanted a private goodbye with Briella in any case. I'll...I'll see all of you at breakfast." They all murmured goodnights after him, and he departed.
"Does that make it any easier to talk, now?" Christian prodded gently.
"Not really," Leslie said candidly, which got her chuckles from all the others. She let out a shaky breath and took in their faces, remembering past times when they had gathered together for quiet discussions. The one that came most handily to mind was the night Esbjörn had miraculously returned to Anna-Laura and the family fold, when he had filled them in on his long captivity and the complicated reasons behind it. All of a sudden she really wanted them to know; she took a deep breath and addressed Christian to begin with. "Don't take this the wrong way, my love, please," she begged, "but...I don't really feel as if I'm fully part of the family. I still feel like an outsider."
She'd expected shock, but she got patient puzzlement, which was much easier to take and made her fall still more deeply in love with him for his bottomless understanding. "Why in the world would you feel like that? My Rose, you know how much I love you, and you know the family has always been very welcoming of you."
"I know...but I...oh, damn, I really need to use English for this." He nodded smiling agreement; she scraped her lower lip with her teeth and gave him a swift hug before turning in his embrace to speak to the other four. "It's nothing against you, not at all. I think you're all wonderful, and I feel so lucky to be a member of the family. But I don't...I guess I never felt that I fully fit in. I mean, look at me. I can speak jordiska, but not very well still. I'm not even jordisk myself, not by birth or ancestry. I don't have any memories in common with the rest of you. The night Esbjörn came back, you all had memories of what had happened, vivid ones...and all I could do was ask some really stupid questions. And I'm so much younger than all of you, even Christian—you're all fifties babies and I was born in the sixties, so I feel like a silly little kid around you sometimes. You have poise and grace and self-confidence, and you're all so assured and calm...I'm just this klutzy commoner, and sometimes I feel as if I somehow tricked poor Christian into falling for me."
"Herregud, Leslie!" Christian exclaimed in disbelief.
"Hear me out, please?" she pleaded, and he shrugged and acquiesced, though he still looked incredulous. "When Christian decided he wanted to marry me, by rights I should've given up my life and joined him here—and instead I took him away from you because he made the move to be with me. That set me even farther outside your sphere and took Christian a good ways out of it too. And our children are growing up not being as familiar with their relatives here as they should be." She let her head fall forward and shook it a few times. "I feel guilty enough for all that...but now it's just ten times worse after what happened to Gabriella. We never thought it would turn out the way it did, and it all happened because I sent her and her sisters that damned message. I shouldn't have. I should have kept them in the dark, let them wait...let others take the place Briella insisted on taking. She'd be alive now if it weren't for that message. I feel responsible."
"I've tried to tell her that isn't true," Christian said helplessly, "but she doesn't listen to me. It's one of the few failings I've found in her. Someone please convince her."
"Briella made her own decision, Leslie," Anna-Laura said. "I know you know that as well as anyone else, but I can see why Christian gets so frustrated with you—you keep trying to assume blame for something that you couldn't control. Leslie, you see, it's one thing to absolve responsibility for anything, including the things that genuinely are your own fault. But you go too far the other way. You not only take responsibility for anything you actually did, you try to take it for others' actions as well. Leslie, you need to learn when to stop, when to let go and allow someone else to step in. I wonder how many times my poor brother has had to insist that what Briella did is not your fault. For fate's sake, let yourself be convinced, because it happens to be the truth."
Faintly Leslie protested, "But people have a way of..."
"Damn people," Christian said fiercely. "You worry too much about what they'll think of you. What they do and say isn't worth a tin öre, do you hear me, Leslie Enstad? Your focus should be on those who know and love you. Worry about us and our opinions if you must, but to hell with people in general."
Leslie gaped at him. "Wow," she mumbled.
Esbjörn chuckled and said, "He makes his point in a rather graphic manner, Leslie, but he's still correct. The truth is the truth, and the misguided ideas of ignorant and uninformed people don't change that. You can never hope to be universally adored—even Christian there has his detractors among our people, and he's always been the best-loved family member of us all. There are always those who live to sow discord. Or, as my son has put it...let me see if I can remember precisely what he said..." He squinted at the ceiling and cleared his throat before saying the words as though taking a test. " 'Haters gonna hate.' "
They all burst into loud laughter at that, even Leslie. "Did he say that in the original English?" Carl Johan asked through his guffaws.
"I believe he did, yes," Esbjörn said with a nod, and their laughter renewed itself. It took a couple of minutes for it to die off enough that he turned to Leslie with a broad grin. "So you see, it can only harm you to worry so much about other people and what they do. Let Briella take responsibility for her own actions. You only told her about the trial and said she shouldn't volunteer. It was her decision to defy that advice."
"You ascribe far too much power to yourself if you thought you could change her mind once she made it up," Carl Johan said humorously. "All three of Arnulf's daughters are like that. For that matter, the whole family is. If you can't think for yourself, you don't deserve to bear the name of Enstad." Again there was laughter. "And as for your feeling like an outsider, I can understand why you must perceive yourself as being set apart. But here again, it goes back to not taking responsibility for the decisions and actions of others. We know the story all too well by now. It was Christian who made the decision to move to Fantasy Island, because he loved you so much that he was willing to change everything he knew, uproot his whole world and leave the home he'd always known, simply to be with you. And trust me, Christian is the most stubborn one of us all." He winked, setting off still more laughter.
"If we ever made you feel as though you didn't belong, Leslie," Amalia said, "let me apologize on behalf of us all. But that was never our intention, believe me. Should circumstances ever dictate that you find yourself moving back to Lilla Jordsö with Christian, you'll be just as welcome here as anyone else who married into the family. You belong to us, Leslie, no matter where you live. You are an Enstad, just as much as I am for being Carl Johan's wife, or Esbjörn is for being Anna-Laura's husband, despite that she took his surname." She smiled. "Besides, I've always had the sense that even if we didn't welcome you, or feel that you belonged, Christian would remedy that without delay."
"Ach, you know me too well," Christian remarked, chuckling. He turned Leslie's head so that she faced him again. "We all make our own choices, my darling. The only choices and actions you have a right to lay claim to are your own. To continue to insist that someone else's deeds are somehow your fault may seem noble to you, but it hints at outsized ego, in its peculiar way—as if you felt you had control over other people and must therefore assume the blame for them. As I told you that first day, Briella's death was no one's fault but that of Hotaia Sese, and he paid the ultimate price for taking her life in any case. Now, for fate's sake, let it rest, will you, please?"
Leslie's face had long since heated up from embarrassment, and she closed her eyes and sighed. "I really feel stupid now. You'd think I could reason that far on my own, but I always seem to have to be taught these lessons I should already know."
"Oh, truly," snorted Christian with light exasperation. "Some people never learn those lessons, my Rose, whether on their own or through the tutoring of others. And oh yes...that business about being so much younger than the rest of us—as you like to say, that's a crock. It means absolutely nothing at all. So I have seven years on you. What does it matter? Carl Johan and Amalia and Esbjörn all have eight years on me, but you certainly aren't going to find me kneeling at their feet expecting them to shower me with the wisdom of their advanced age." He threw a smug look at the others, who playfully booed him. "You're one of us, Leslie, no matter what. Of course, if you still feel clumsy compared to the rest of us, we can always make you attend Royal Comportment classes alongside the children."
Leslie, giggling, lightly bounced a fist off his shoulder. "Okay, okay, you've made your point!" He grinned at her and hugged her close, and she nestled her head on his shoulder and regarded the other four, who watched with smiles that looked curiously relieved. "You've all just proven what I said before—I think you're all wonderful. I don't think there are too many families who'd go out of their way to explain what probably should've been obvious from the start, and with so much patience and understanding too. Thank you all, for being so caring—and for Christian, too." She sat up enough to kiss Christian, then smiled at him. "I don't think they realize what a gift they gave me in you."
"Don't swell his head too much, Leslie, or you'll have to pay extra weight charges on your flights home," said Anna-Laura dryly, and once more everyone laughed. She sat back and lifted her wineglass. "Oh, I must admit, laughing feels so good, in the face of the sorrow we've been enduring. I suspect Briella would have approved."
"I do too," Amalia said. "I feel as though I can face the funeral now."
"Oh." Christian sat up straight, still holding Leslie. "For some reason that reminded me of something Daniel said just before we came up here. He suggested holding a press conference so that the true story of what happened to Briella can be told, to counter whatever filthy little fairy tales the garbage press may dream up. He felt that this would probably go to you for ultimate approval, Carl Johan, since now you're acting ruler."
Carl Johan sighed and combed one hand through his hair, which Leslie realized for the first time contained almost as much gray as glossy chestnut brown. "I suppose that's true. Herregud...all the responsibilities that sit on me now...I can still remember around the time Father was crowned, saying I felt fortunate being in the middle, because I didn't have the parental expectations that Arnulf had to live up to, being next in line for the throne, or the misery of being Father's scapegoat as you had to be, Christian. Now when I see what I must preserve for my grandson when he comes of age, I realize that I had a much easier life than I knew to appreciate. Perhaps I should have sat in on more parliamentary sessions, but I didn't want to waste that much of my life asleep."
Christian burst out laughing, and the others joined in. "Don't expect me to feel very sorry for you, äldrebror, and I definitely don't envy you. But if you treat me right, I promise to at least sympathize with your plight." He chortled at Carl Johan's dirty look. "So what do you say about the press conference?"
Carl Johan nodded. "I don't think we should do it during the official mourning, though. We'll have to have Matti's coronation and my investiture as regent by the time Briella has been gone from us two weeks, but that's plenty of time to hold a press conference and give us the proper mourning period. That also gives us time to find the papers Briella is supposed to have left, explaining her decision." He sighed and raised his glass. "We came here to drink, didn't we? I think we should."
"You came here to drink? In that case, count me in." Christian grinned and lifted his own glass, taking a long draft. "Delicious."
"Have some, Leslie," Anna-Laura urged.
She smiled and admitted, "I really want to, but see, I have this pregnancy..."
They laughed again, and Anna-Laura apologized. "I should have remembered—it's so new to us. Congratulations again. I suspect there are already national betting pools on whether you'll have a boy or a girl." Glasses were raised in toast, and even Leslie took a little sip, feeling far better than she had just half an hour ago.