In Which Rona Starts a Slightly Different Day

August 24, 1181

Rona held her tongue as Electra stepped back from her umpteenth attempt with the ties of the linen underdress. So many years later and her young maid still had yet to master the basics of her job, but since Ashe had been the one helping Rona get ready more mornings than not since their marriage, she had to grudgingly admit to little fault on Electra's part beyond sheer lack of aptitude.

She didn't want to be angry at her maid. She had enough feelings to deal with as it was. "That should be fine."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure." She wouldn't be leaving the castle at all today, she'd decided weeks ago. A few of her siblings might drop by, plus her mother and stepfather when they came to take the children, and probably Hilla despite telling her not to bother, but that would be it. No party. No dinner. Just a much-needed quiet day of serious thinking, for all she'd had so many of those lately and a hell of a lot of nothing they'd done.

"All right." Her maid turned her around gently by the shoulders and grimaced. Poor girl was still scared of her. Maybe Aspen had been too. Ashe certainly was. "Should I wake the children, or...?"

"No, they can sleep until my mother gets here." If Yvanette, for one, was awake before Grandmother could take her and her brother out, Rona didn't doubt she'd spend every last second perched by the front door, even though she'd promised she wouldn't. Rona couldn't deal with that today. "Might as well help my daughter with her birthday present to me."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll pull through for you. She loves you just as much as she loves him." Did she, though? And did Darry? Rona was the one who'd sent their daddy away. It would have been kinder to leave herself, if only she hadn't been too selfish to think of that. "Happy birthday, by the way."

Rona sighed. This was precisely why she'd opted to spend the day alone. "It's not a happy birthday."

"Well... maybe not the happiest," Electra admitted. The stupid grin, however, didn't give an inch. "But it's what you make of it, isn't it? That's what my mother says, anyway. Plus with everything going on, you owe it to yourself to try and enjoy today, don't you think?"

Oh, honey. The world just didn't work that way. "No one owes me anything."

"Well, maybe not 'owes', but it's your birthday." And so what if it was. She'd had her illusions about birthdays once, just like she'd had illusions about everything else. Illusions weren't such an issue now. "Oh! That reminds me--I need to grab your present."

Her what? She'd specifically said-- "You didn't have to get me a present."

"Oh, no, it's not from me!" Electra's mother, then. Her mother had even less cause to give Rona a present. Why had she bothered? "It's--oh, you'll see. One second, I'll go get it."

And before Rona could protest, she was out the door. It was just as well. Rona lacked the will to protest anyway.

Twenty. She'd been dreading her twentieth birthday since the day she'd turned fifteen and now it just felt like any other day. Every day had been the same since Ashe had left. Darry had fussed, Yvanette had sat by the door, and Rona had lazed about, trying to figure out if Ashe was Aspen and if Aspen loved her and if she loved Aspen and if she loved Ashe and if the whole thing wasn't some mad dream and she'd wake again as a ten-year-old girl in her old room in her stepfather's castle. There were too many ifs. Even if the ifs became definites, she still didn't know how she felt about any of it. She wished someone would just tell her how she ought to feel, like she would tell a two-year-old.

But that wouldn't happen. That would require a precedent that didn't exist, and who knew if she'd feel as she was told anyway.

She supposed she missed Ashe, or at least that she missed having another adult around, or maybe a little more. She kept lying in bed with her face toward the wall, a sensation of his tentative fingers like raindrops on her side when he thought she was asleep, but she always turned over to find the other side of the bed empty and she hated that. But she didn't want to see him until she'd figured things out, and if that hadn't happened yet, surely it wouldn't be any time soon. Not on a conscious level, anyway.

She still had some of Deian's strange mixture in the medicine chest. She wasn't ill, but perhaps a liberal enough dose could keep her submerged in the depths of her mind long enough to reach at least a few conclusions. Then again, perhaps it would kill her, and it wouldn't do for her children to be without both parents, little though they may have been pleased with her.

She would visit Raia tomorrow, maybe, and then see if she could consult Tavrin. He would know if it could be taken safely for purely educational reasons. She'd even let him administer it if he had qualms about her doing so herself, just as long as it got back into her system and she didn't have to keep living the same day over and over again until Ashe came home. And didn't have to get out of the country herself once he did.

"Back!" Electra burst through the door, grin on her face and something behind her back. Rona tried to pretend to care what it was. "Ta-da!"

A full hand flew to her front and met with the other, the present in question rushing to her center as a swift white blur. Rona blinked. "Where did you get those?"

"Does it matter?" Electra skipped toward the center of the room, the roses' red ribbon upswept beneath her hand. Rona got up to meet her part way, not even sure if she remembered sitting down. "It's not your birthday without them, is it?"

"I suppose I did say that." And as today was the same as yesterday and tomorrow, the day before and the day after, none of which had been or would be her birthday, she couldn't say she'd expected to see them. Certainly not after she'd been so cruel. "How--?"

"Well, Sir Ashe figured he wouldn't be back in time for your birthday, so he told me where to find them and to make sure you got some." Electra took a whiff of the rose nearest her, then frowned at the strike of some detail. "But he said that if you didn't want to look at them, he'd understand. Should I toss them out, or--?"

"No!" The sudden protest was enough to prompt a smile. Shit. She couldn't risk any outside influence, no matter how slight. "I mean... that won't be necessary. They're just flowers, after all."

"Just flowers. I see." And yet, her maid had practically sung the words. "Should I find a vase for these 'just flowers', my lady?"

Yes, that would be the thing to do with them. They didn't deserve to whither away and die before anyone could enjoy them. They hadn't done anything to her.

They were just flowers, after all. "That will do. You can put the vase on the desk."

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