27. Vows

I owe my readers two apologies at this point. The first because of the terrible delay in updating the fanfic. This chapter, to tell the truth, has been written for a long time. Not in its complete version, but practically whole.

I could make a thousand and one excuses to justify the delay, which are basically reduced to the fact that life changed for me (including pandemic, new workplace, and imminent motherhood) but they would be no more than that, excuses. Better to leave it like that.

And in the end, after all, it is not that I have lacked time to write. I've had time, to spare. What I have lacked has been motivation, inspiration, something that I would have preferred had never happened to me. But it happened, and hence the reason for my second apologies: I'm sorry for this uninspired chapter. I don't like it, but there is no other way for it to come out. So there it goes.

Thanks for being there despite everything.

Her parents married in late spring, and they did so in Croft Manor's private chapel, the place where generations of the family rested, the place where Werner also rested, the place where Winston rested. It was something odd in many ways, firstly, because no one - not even them - imagined getting married; second, because the last thing they would have thought of would have been a Catholic ceremony, officiated by dear Father Dunstan, friend and confidant; and finally, odd that it was so private and discreet so only their daughter, and the mother of the bride, attended, apart from them and the priest himself, of course.

But they didn't feel comfortable in any of the alternate settings, which involved drawing attention to themselves and causing an overwhelming sensation. And they, especially considering her father was still half convalescing, wanted anything but to cause a sensation.

Later, Anna would remember only flashes, images in her mind, because she was as distracted and overwhelmed by the feeling of unreality as anyone else. She saw her parents at the altar, their hands joined, murmuring their vows to each other and half smiling as if this was a good joke; Father Dunstan and his radiant expression, who seemed to enjoy this more than anyone else; and when the girl looked back over her shoulder, she saw that her grandmother, contrary to all that was expected and predicted, was also there, standing by the entrance of the chapel; she elegant as always, observing the scene in silence and respect, her lips parted, as if surprised and incredulous, despite the fact that she had cooperated to organize this.

At a certain point, Anna looked down at her lap, still swinging her legs covered in the pantsuit and jacket that was the only dress outfit that she allowed herself to wear, and she lost the thread of what was happening. Her head felt like air, or rather cotton, still assuming the changes of the last few months. She was incredibly happy for her parents, what's more, she felt a huge relief that things would end well - although she had never imagined that they would end precisely in a wedding - but despite everything, she could not feel at peace. She still had unfinished business to resolve, especially with...

"Anna?"

The girl raised her head in bewilderment. Her parents and the priest were staring at her expectantly. "What?" She sputtered.

Lara's mouth twisted slightly. "The rings." She pointed out.

Anna blushed like a tomato and began to search frantically in the pockets of her jacket, feeling like an idiot. Where were they? They did not show up!

"Seriously, kiddo?" Her father said, looking at her amused.

"I... I don't know where I've put them." She confessed, embarrassed, her face on the verge of exploding.

Father Dunstan, used to worse things happening in ceremonies, smiled patiently. "I have spare ones around here." And passing the missal to one hand, he began to search her cassock. "Just in case..."

"That won't be necessary." Said a voice from behind. Lady Angeline had come forward and was holding a box in her outstretched hand. "She left them on the bedside table."

Suffocated, Anna jumped off the bench and ran to her grandmother.

Lara smiled slightly. "I'm surprised she didn't flush them down the toilet." She hissed through her teeth, referring to her mother.

"Me too." Kurtis whispered.

The remainder of the ceremony passed and ended without incident.

There were some old almond trees in the little cemetery behind the chapel. Despite their age, every spring they bloomed, watering the grass with their white flowers. On a nearby bench Lara helped Kurtis sit down. He'd been able to walk on his healed legs for weeks, but he still needed to lean on a crutch, and not for too long either. Standing during the ceremony had burdened his newly welded bones and now they ached again.

True to his spirit, he didn't complain. Not even pain showed on his face. After all, nothing could spoil a day like this.

In silence, he watched Lara, wrapped in her white dress, slowly undo the bridal bouquet, a curious mixture of white and red roses that her mother, of course, had found in bad taste and had tried to replace with a more delicate combination. In her despair, she even had tried to turn to him. "Convince her that red is tacky for a wedding." She snapped. "Red is for harlots, Kevin."

He'd sighed deeply before fixing her blue eyes on her and cracking a wolfish smile. "My name's Kurtis."

After that, the old lady had seen fit not to insist.

Lara separated the roses into two different, smaller bouquets, one totally red and the other totally white. With dedication, she tied both with a ribbon to secure them. Of course, there was a reason behind the selected colors.

Red roses for Werner.

White roses for Winston.

Red for the fiery, passionate mentor who had lived for what he loved more than anything in the world, and who had died for it. Eternal inspiration for Lara, a reflection of her own passion and dedication, more father to her than any carnal father, more rival for her than any other rival. She had long since accepted her departure and she had forgiven herself for her insensitivity to him in the last moments of her life; although it was a part of her, she wanted to erase, or at least have one more moment to tell him what she had never been able to tell him, what her passion and dedication had awakened in her.

White for the sweet custodian, pure in heart and mind, the faithful servant of her family, the only one who had not abandoned her when everyone else turned their backs on her. Her butler, the loyal friend who had believed in her when no one else had, the faithful guardian of her home, her constant support without question or doubt; more father to her than any carnal father, more friend to her than any other friend. He had left in the middle of the night, in silence, while he slept, without being aware of it, without suffering, without pain. At least, concerning his departure, Lara was at peace, she had had the time with him that had been stolen from her with the mentor, although at first, she thought that she would not get over it either. He had lived to see her family complete, to hold her daughter.

"What more could I ask" She murmured, kneeling before the graves of her two real parents, the only ones she had ever known. She left the white bouquet on Winston's grave and the red on Werner's grave. Her wedding dress was stained with the wetness of the stone and the green of the grass, but it didn't matter.

It didn't matter at all.

She was silent for a long time, staring at the tombstones, remembering. Kurtis waited patiently. He was in no rush. For him, there was nothing more to ask as well.

They walked slowly back toward the manor, still silent. However, as they entered the hall of the Croft mansion, they froze, petrified.

The wide floor of the hall was strewn with fresh, fragrant red rose petals. Its aroma filled the atmosphere until cloying. A series of lighted candles, also scented, were strategically placed on each step of the two staircases that led, on either side of the hall, to the top floor of the building. The trail of rose petals continued to rise through. Both Lara and Kurtis immediately deduced how far it went.

"Is this your thing?" She murmured, staring at the floral rug.

"No." He answered. And he chuckled softly. "I have no idea who did this."

"Not my mother, of course."

"Ugh, no. I hope not. But actually..." Leaning his crutch on the railing of the staircase, he suddenly turned around and lifted Lara into his arms, who, surprised, didn't manage to react until her feet no longer touched the ground.

"What are you doing?" She said. "You're still recovering."

"How little respect you have for traditions, miss... wait, what do I call you now? Mrs. Croft? Mrs. Heissturm? Mrs. Trent?"

"Stop fooling around and climb, you're not up for this effort, nor am I light to carry."

He climbed the staircase with no apparent effort, following the stupid trail of red petals. Must have been Anna's idea, Lara thought, resting her face on Kurtis's shaved cheek and smelling his perfume, but not even this suits her.

The double room was strewn with roses on the floor, too, and on the new bedspread. The fireplace had been lit, for it was still cool within those brick walls, and various scented candles burned on the bedside tables and on the shelves as well.

Lara kept wondering who had done that stupid thing when Kurtis laid her on the bed and crouched over her. If he was exhausted or his legs ached, he didn't hint. But then she felt something creak under her back and she contorted, rummaging beneath her.

"Here's something." She murmured and pulled a folded paper out of the rose petals. "A note?"

It was a pink, folded note. The handwriting, however, was unmistakable.

ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GOING TO KILL YOU

HOW DARE YOU GET MARRIED WITHOUT TELLING ME ANYTHING?

YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS. YOU ARE THE WORST FRIEND IN THE WORLD.

ENJOY MY ROSES. I LOVE YOU BOTH.

SELMA

"Of course." Lara said. "How did she find out?" She shot a suspicious look at Kurtis.

He shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"No. Not really."

Anna. Of course, it had been her. She was probably also the one who had helped Selma with that unexpected gift. Lara tried to imagine her daughter spreading those petals and lighting the candles while sulking and grunting, and she laughed.

Kurtis stifled her laughter with a kiss.

She saw her appear at the top of the stairs. She was wearing her customary set of pants and T-shirt, but this time, it didn't escape her that her left hand was bandaged. Anna stared at her for a moment, speechless. Expectant. There was a certain panic in her eyes.

Kat sighed. "Come down, Anna." Her friend rested her hand on the railing and began to descend slowly toward her. Kat looked at the bandaged hand again. She could see a bit of blood under her bandages. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing." Anna sputtered. "An accident. I was… training with Dad."

"Training for what?"

But Anna didn't feel like talking. She looked around at the empty hall, air full of the ticking of the ancient clock. Her mother had quietly withdrawn. She was alone with her. "Kat… what have you come for?"

The blonde girl put her backpack on the ground. "To see you, silly. What else was I going to come to?"

Anna was silent. Then she went down a bit more. Slowly. Slowly. She still doesn't see quite well, Kat thought. Although she tries to hide it.

"Aren't you mad at me?" Anna ventured, suddenly shy.

Kat sighed. "What for? For bulldozing the school's south yard because of me? For almost killing Maggie and Clarice?" Anna lowered her head and shrugged slightly. Kat sighed again and shifted her weight from one leg to the other. "I forgive you about the yard, what's more, must have been quite amazing. But they..." She left the sentence unfinished. For a moment, there was nothing but the ticking of the clock, and the birds outside. It was already spring. "Anna." Kat said seriously. "I don't want you to fight over me. And I want much less that you kill for me."

"I didn't want to kill her." Anna whispered. "I know it's hard to believe it, but I didn't want to. I just wanted to…"

Kat cocked her head, looked up at the towering clock. "Take revenge." She finished. "Pay evil for evil. Crush her, like you said. Yes, you crushed her. Quite hard."

"Forgive me." The last word from her was barely whispered, but she heard it anyway. She went up two, three steps toward her. She took her hands, healed and bandaged. They were cold. She rubbed them. And then she brought them to her mouth and kissed them.

"Anna Croft." She said. "You're crazy. You can't do this outrageous thing for a bruise on one arm. What will you do when it's worse?"

"Nothing worse will happen to you, Kat."

She laughed. "Please ... don't be a brat. Answer me. What will you do?"

"What happened shouldn't have happened. It was a mistake. I lost control."

"Control of what?"

She still had her hands in his. Anna was staring at them. "I can't tell you."

"You can't or you do not want?"

"I'll put you in danger."

Kat sighed again. "I've been talking with your mother, y'know? She called me."

Anna paled and looked at her, scared. "Did she... did she say something to you?"

"She didn't want to tell me. She said that only belongs to you. Well come on, Anna, tell me. I have come for that. I need to understand what happened."

But her friend shook her head, flustered. "You're already scared of me now..."

"You think I will be less scared if I ignore what's happening to you?"

"What happens to me will never go away. It is what I am."

"I don't care what you are."

"Kat," she let go of her hands, "you were right. There is something in me. Something dark. Something terrible. That something got loose that day, and I couldn't control it. The best thing you can do... is leave. Get away from me."

"Well, I'm not going to do it. Because I love you just the way you are. And if you have changed, I will also love what you have become. I know what you've done, even if it's wrong, you did for me." She remained quiet. "Please, Anna. I shouldn't have said what I said. It was not true. I will love you whatever you are."

She was still quiet.

Finally, she took her hands again. So cold. They trembled. "Let's go to the maze", she said.

Like when they were children, much younger, although they did not know when they had grown up. They no longer felt so young, but there they were, sitting on the step, between the two Atlanteans from Tula.

Anna was shaking, as if she was freezing. Kat hugged her, cradled her against her chest.

"I'm afraid to tell you this." She admitted at last. "My father warned me to think it through."

"And have you done it?"

"I was going to tell you. I was sure. Before... Maggie. But now everything has changed. I feel dirty. I feel like a monster. An assassin."

"She's not dead. And neither did Clarice. You haven't killed anyone."

"But I can do it. And maybe I will."

"Annie..."

It was starting to get dark. Kat had rarely been out in the open when it got dark. But none of that mattered anymore.

"You won't believe me."

"I'll believe whatever you tell me, Anna."

"It's... very surreal."

"I'm sure it is."

It kept getting dark. The lights in the manor came on. Anna could almost hear her mother pacing the study, looking at maps, making phone calls. Or her father, training in the gym, trying to regain his lost strength. She felt Kat's heartbeat. An incredibly soft sound, a very fragile organ. Light years away from that nova of energy, from the power that her own body had unleashed at school. The splendour of the Gift.

"Lux Veritatis mecum." She had said it out loud.

Kat raised her eyebrows. "That's Latin, right?"

"It is." Anna separated herself from her chest, but she did not let go of her hands. "Kat, you can't tell anyone what I'm going to tell you."

"I will not do it. You can be sure." And she squeezed her hard.

Looking at her fingers intertwined with hers, because she didn't have the courage to look at her face, she Anna finally gave up.

And she told her everything.