First at Last

Chapter Twelve

We both read for some time, but, eventually, it lost its appeal, so I set my book down and William and I went to talking. It was nice, being able to just talk with him, as if he were like me, instead of being the crown prince of Belhaven.

At one point, when conversation had ceased and we were both just sitting beside each other, comfortable with the silence, William spoke. "Erika," he began slowly, watching the flames of the fire in the hearth.

I glanced over at him. "Yes?"

"We always have things to talk about. But I just realized . . . I know hardly anything about you." He said thoughtfully.

I did not really want to talk about myself. "You know a lot about me."

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug, still watching the fireplace. "Not really. I know that you like to read . . . and that you resent your sister . . ."

I nodded. "Yes. What is your question?" I just wanted to move on to a different topic as quickly as possible.

He thought for a moment. "Tell me why you resent your sister?"

I exhaled softly, thinking. "It's not so much that I resent her . . ." I said slowly.

He laughed softly. "I don't know what else to call it. You two are not close. Why is that?"

"She's a terrible person." I replied without hesitation.

"That didn't take you long." He said with a raised eyebrow. "Tell me, why do you think she's a terrible person?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "If I wanted to talk about the things that bother me, I would go see a shrink." The words came out harsher than intended, but he remained unfazed.

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I'm just asking questions, Erika. But if you really don't want to talk about it, then we can talk about something else."

I felt a little guilty for snapping at him, since he was so kind about it. So, I said, "She is just better than me at everything. I cannot compete with her. I have never been like her, craving attention, receiving attention. Everyone loves Alice, as you have seen. She is beautiful, and loveable, and amazing at everything she does. She can dance, and stitch, and cook, and stand in the middle of hundreds of people and be all right with it. I just . . . never could. I could never dance very well, and the last time I did needle work I kept accidentally stabbing my hands, and I could never have so many eyes on me. I get so nervous that I can't even form a rational thought."

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "You compare yourself unfairly, Erika." He answered quietly after a pause. "You are so much more than you think you are. You are better than her in other areas."

I snorted derisively.

"It's true. You are beautiful, and kind, and smart, and charming, and witty . . . Why does it matter if she can cook? She has servants to do that for her. And it is alright that you do not like to be in front of many people. Not everyone does." His face drew closer and I almost leaned in to close the little bit of space between us, but I did not. Instead, I turned my face away. My throat ached with the effort to keep from crying. I didn't want him to see me cry.

"I should go." I said suddenly. I did not wait for him to reply, before I stood and made my way toward the door. "I'll come back tomorrow, William. Good night."

"Good night, Erika." He said softly, and I could hear the smile in his words, before I shut the door behind me and made my way back the way I'd come.

All the next day I could not wait to see him again. It was a giddy sort of feeling in the pit of my stomach that made me smile at random moments, and left me unfazed by Mother's harsh words and angry glares.