Red Queen Fan Fiction - Red Huntress

Chapter 4

The next weeks, Diana was left to ponder on her mother's offer. She couldn't make a choice on that day, nor had she been expected to. Mama wanted her to make a thoughtful decision, one to set the path for the rest of Diana's life. That was a huge thing to realize, if not the mere option to have a future to decide on by herself.

Thus, Diana puzzled over this, during the increasing field work that reduced the children's school time further. Everyone's priorities had shifted to making up for the missed corvee and Armina Cordes, the greatest farmer of Sieverling, purchased seeds for the fallow fields of the village.

What do you want? The question was never far when Diana toiled on their vegetable patch at home, when she glanced at her sister, or in the moments between chatting with Giselle. Diana was overjoyed conversations with the other girl became more frequent in the late summer when they worked side by side on the fields. Finally, she'd found the words to say to Giselle, and was still astounded she could talk to her when her blood rushed to her head every time.

Papa can teach you. What you want.

Even to fight. She asked her mother what that was supposed to mean, and her mother just shrugged.

"He's become a soldier, so he knows about it," Mama said. After a pause, seeing Diana still exasperated, she added, "he stayed safe through all this time. He kne – knows what's waiting for him. We can be proud of him."

That only confused Diana more, making her turn around to go outside. Later she chided herself for not looking closer at her mother that moment, deciphering her expression. Reds weren't proud of their conscripted friends and family members. All they wished for was for them to return home whole and healthy. It certainly had been Diana's sole wish for her father, but now her mother had implied this training, she deduced there was more to it.

She'd said it to her mother already: picking between farming, hunting and butchering was hardly a choice at all. And fighting? So she'd be better prepared when Lord Isère sent his recruiters? Was she supposed to volunteer then?

She almost dropped the can of milk she was carrying when the idea hit her: Stop questioning your choice, and focus on the choices of your parents.

What did they want, truly? Obviously not simply to survive with their heads down. But ...

That thought was poisonous, yet she couldn't get rid of it. Had her father chosen to fight, by leaving his family behind and becoming a soldier? She stared at the milk she'd spilt. Like the milk wouldn't return into the can, she couldn't unthink this.

From then on, Diana frequently needled her mother about her father. Carefully. If her parents had lied to her face all this time, they could go on doing so if Diana was too direct. Instead, she asked about the war against Norta itself, her father's rank and tasks, and the letters he sent home. Mama had read them to her and Madeline, but Diana wondered if Mama had left out certain details. She wanted to read the actual letters, and to her surprise, her mother complied without much persuasion. It must've been wrong to doubt her. Mama had approached the topic first, and seemed to want to put her trust in Diana. Hadn't their conversation on the day of the corvee been about that?

The letters made Diana miss her father even more. While the work on the fields intensified with the harvest, it was also something else to occupy her mind with. But at night, when she was nervous and not tired enough to fall asleep the second she laid down, she sank into the words of her father. He spoke of dread and death, of his fears for those comrades down with him at the borderland and for those far away, at home. Worry of not coming back, and excitement to return home. Already, Diana started to count the days until his visit in the fall. She also figured out the parts her mother might've omitted before, the notes of love shared between her parents, the kind words after Mama had the abortion. Some strangely poetic remarks on red sunrises.