The moon was bright and the sky clear as a cool breeze wafted through the open kitchen window. It had been a good day. Agdar had signed a good deal. Something he had been congratulated for many times. He should have been celebrating.
Yet there he was, sitting at a table, resting his head in one hand, flipping a small box with the other. The table stood in the centre of the dining area. He felt as though there was little space around it. The window was on his left, double doors in front and the kitchen worktops with their sink, pots and pans behind. The feeling of suffocation made no sense; he had the most spacious home of all his associates, save one or two. Maybe he needed to say what was on his mind. Get it off his chest.
"I miss her so much."
"I know."
Ithun placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, in her purple nightgown that blended with the darkness and familiar bun. It was good that she spoke: he kept forgetting she was there. He looked back at the table. He lifted his head and ran his fingers over the plastic sheet covering it.
"We should go back for her."
"You know we can't do that. And think of Anna."
Anna.
Another sign this should have been a good day: he'd had time for her. After any other day of work he would only have time to hear what she had done without him before she ate and went to sleep. He had joined her in her games today. He had carried her to bed himself, tucked her in and kissed her goodnight instead of having a quiet dinner to himself and his wife before going to sleep. She had fallen asleep in minutes, a side effect of being her boisterous self.
He met Ithun's eyes again and spoke, his voice quiet.
"I can do better."
"It's better for everyone this way. Stay strong."
Her voice was quiet too, but it had the strength she kept wishing upon him. He wanted to smile, but his lips would not rise.
"You know we can't keep it a secret forever."
He wondered if he had injected some humour in the statement: it sounded like the sort of phrase that warranted it. But the words had been flat. As flat as they had been all day.
At least Anna had not held it against him.
"I know."
Ithun's face was blank, as plain and simple as her tone. She tilted her head. Her eyes widened by a fraction, now warm. He sighed, turning his attention back to the table.
"It feels wrong to not tell Anna."
"Would she understand?" Agdar said nothing. He sighed as he leaned forward, feeling his shoulders sag. "If, in the future," she continued, "she proves herself able to cope - then we'll tell her."
Agdar nodded and exhaled a second time. Ithun squeezed his shoulder then stood, pressing against the table as she rose. The plastic shifted under her weight but what lay on the surface kept it in place. She made her way to the door.
"Wait."
She looked back. At last Agdar managed a weak smile as he pointed to the table. "Do you want a piece?"
"No." She pivoted. "But I'll stay." She returned and he gave her a slight nod. He pulled a matchstick from the box and struck it, lighting the candle embedded in the small cake for which the sheet had been laid. He extinguished the match with a few shakes of his hand and paused. He hovered over the cake.
A soft breath and it too went dark.
It should have been a good day.
"Happy birthday, Elsa."
Her sixth.
"Snap out of it, Agdar!"
He jumped. Whirled around to see Ithun furious, her face inches from his own. She had trapped him in front of the wardrobe. He had no space to close it.
"You've been out of sorts all day; what's gotten into you?"
He tried to close the wallet he had just retrieved but she placed a firm hand on his wrist. He paused. She had caught him red handed, hadn't she? It would be better to own up. To get it over with. He opened and passed it to her, looking away. He waited as she examined it and imagined himself as a child about to have a possession confiscated.
Ithun looked in the right compartment of the wallet. It held Agdar's cards and some notes. All normal. In the left, behind a layer of clear plastic, she saw a picture of Anna laughing on her fourteenth birthday, full of life. There was nothing else.
Then why had he been staring at it for so long?
She looked again, now seeing a frayed edge poking behind the photo. She peeled Anna's image forward and exposed a second. She slid it out.
First there was silence. Then she turned it around, her voice weary.
"Aren't you over this yet?"
The picture was focused on a baby held in a man's arms. She had bright blue eyes and a wide, toothy smile. Her father was looking down at her with a warm smile of his own, tucking a short tuft of blonde hair behind her ear.
Agdar snatched the wallet back but took the picture from her with greater care. He examined it for damage and, satisfied, hid it behind the first. He rounded on her. Her eyebrow was still raised.
"Of course not!" he spat. "It's just her 21st, Ithun. Nothing special about that!"
"Just keep a grip on yourself for a few more hours. Then you can sob or mope all you want."
He scoffed and shoved her to one side, taking an involuntary gasp of the open air. Ithun watched him turn to the wardrobe again. He reached out. The wallet hovered above the top shelf for a moment before he reconsidered, tucking it into his shirt pocket and shooting her a dirty look before closing the large wooden doors. He had chosen a tie for the evening and thrown it on the bed before seeking the picture. He grabbed it and took a seat at their dressing table. "Funny you should mention that," he said, looking at her reflection in the mirror as he looped it around his neck, "hiding her gets harder every year - "
"Shh!" Ithun's eyes shot to the open door and back. Agdar watched her walking backwards to it, keeping her eyes on him as she closed it. He didn't have the inclination to remind her Anna was downstairs, having an early dinner.
" - and what's more, apparently one of the nurses has a crush on her. Can you believe that? A crush on something like her?"
She put her hands on her hips and stared daggers at his reflection. He returned the look as he combed his hair. "You've done a good job for thirteen years Agdar," she whispered, her voice dripping venom "and now you're carrying her picture around? What if someone saw it? You're back to clutching at straws to bring her home again. Grow up!"
"Assuming the worst, are we, dear?" Satisfied with his appearance, he returned the comb to its drawer and adjusted his tie and collar. "I don't want her back. I've already grown up." He stood, pivoting to face her as he rose. "And I only left the picture there because yesterday was a long day and, in case you haven't noticed, Anna isn't in the habit of raiding us for money, in case you're still looking for a reason to throw her out too." He patted his suit down. Ithun's eyes were narrowed but she showed no other signs of their brief fight. She was good at that. "When will Persi be here?"
"Any minute now." Even her voice was back to normal.
"Good."
Percival had left a good impression on Agdar when they had been introduced the previous day. He was a good man who, while overly friendly at times, knew his place and deferred to those above him. Agdar also appreciated him for speaking with no embellishments and for his promise to give his employer a glowing review.
But that good word would not come from respect alone: the evening had been a success. It was with concealed joy that Agdar escorted Persi to the entrance hall at its end, Ithun at his side.
"I'm sorry to be on my way, Mr. and Mrs. Arendelle." Persi retrieved his jacket from a coat hook and slipped it on, looking back at his guests who stood by the stairwell. "Thanks again for a wonderful evening."
Agdar inclined his head with a small smile he knew would grow once he and his wife had privacy. "The pleasure's all ours Percival."
"And for the last time sir, call me Persi!" He chuckled, his stomach rippling once more. "I only wish I could see your daughter before I leave."
Agdar looked up the stairs. "That girl values her playtime too highly, I'm afraid." He shook his head and turned back. "She's far too old for it, but what can you do?"
Persi smiled and waved a hand. "Let her have her fun while she can; it won't be long before she's weighed down by the world like us! My nephew is the same." Here he paused, squeezing his bottom lip between his forefinger and thumb. "I think they'd get along quite well."
Agdar's smile gave way to a tight-lipped imitation, but Persi was too busy congratulating Ithun on their meal to notice. The change in subject made Agdar wonder how many of their guests would succumb to the gender bias: he always hired the chef.
He shook his head to dispel the thoughts in time to catch Persi's farewell, responding in kind as they shook hands. Persi stepped around him, now standing at the foot of the stairs as he lifted his olive bowler hat from the railing post, spinning it in his hands before flipping it onto his head. Agdar took a moment to admire how well it hid his guest's bald patch: with how it framed what little he had left, it looked as though Persi hadn't lost a strand.
"Again, thank you both. And congratulations Mr. Arendelle; the contract is as good as yours. In fact I don't think anyone - "
A rumbling cut him off. Persi turned to his right as a figure crashed into him, sending him to the floor. It kicked his hip as it moved away, freeing him from the bulk of the sudden weight atop him. He opened his eyes with a faint groan, clutching his side. He was greeted by a large teddy bear, staring back at him.
He started, then chuckled. He held it under his arm as he got to his feet.
To his side a second figure pulled itself up to a sitting position and leaned against the wall. A girl. She hung her head, rubbing a hand through strawberry blonde hair held in twin braids behind her ears. Persi cringed at the sight of a small metal pole fastened to her hip through a belt loop. Surely it must have hurt her on the way down? He held the bear out, about to speak when the girl opened her eyes of her own accord. They were framed by freckles, the dark spots in stark contrast with the pale skin and wide, bright eyes. They met his.
Her cheeks flushed at the sight of him holding the bear, the apologies tumbling out as she took it back. Shaking his head over the folly of youth and remembering a few mishaps of his own, Persi did not see her blue eyes dart to her father's.