15. Eliza

Gerald Seymore arrived by helicopter only three days later. The chopper landed right in front of the mansion, blowing dust, leaves, and gravel everywhere. I had to shield my face to not get stung.

The giant flying machine had barely touched down when the doors opened and a large man stepped out. I would have known him anywhere, even if I hadn’t already been warned that Edward’s dad was coming. The resemblance was uncanny.

For a man in his fifties he was fit, only slightly thicker than Edward, with gray in his hair and a full beard—the only other distinguishing difference between the two.

Edward was a couple of inches taller, but overall, father and son could have been clones with only a few years separating them.

I waited by the large double entrance doors as the men made their way up and the helicopter took off, again raining little missiles in my direction and at the backs of father and son.

Edward motioned for me to go inside and I didn’t hesitate, glad to be out of the danger zone.

Gerald closed the door behind them and turned to face me. His eyes moved up and down my body and a smile spread across his thin lips. Much thinner than Edward’s I noticed.

“Well, now I understand.” Gerald thumped Edward on the shoulder. “She’s a beauty, son.”

I walked a few steps forward to greet him, holding out my hand as I had learned was custom on this side of Fable Forest.

“Very nice to meet you, Miss…” Gerald took my hand and enveloped both of ours with his other. His touch wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but too intimate for my taste.

“I call her ‘princess,’” Edward provided with a slightly guilty look on his face. It bothered him that he didn’t know my name. Just this morning he had thrown a barrage of them at me that had me doubling over in laughter, Hedwig, Gertrude, Maude, Mathilde had only been a few of them.

“She can’t speak,” Edward added.

Gerald’s smile took a slight downturn, and his gaze turned a shade cooler. But he seemed to catch himself, petting my hand. “I suppose we all have to have our flaws.” He finally let go. “It is very nice to meet you, princess.” He winked.

Then I was dismissed as he turned to Edward. “Do you have something to drink for your old man after his long flight?”

I followed them into the library upstairs, where I remained unobtrusive on a chair, declining a drink for myself, and watched father and son interact.

“Tomorrow morning I would like a tour of the town to see where all my money is going.” Gerald’s eyes perused the decor and I remembered Edward telling me that he hadn’t been here before.

“Of course, it’s all planned. Would you like a tour of the house now?” Edward offered.

Gerald waved him off. “I’ve seen plenty of houses in my life, this one will do just fine for the few days I’m staying.”

He moved to the window and stared out into the yard. “Nice.”

Nice wasn’t exactly the word I would have used to describe our backyard, which even to my spoiled taste was very impressive.

“The pool could have been a bit bigger, but… is that a pond? Now that’s a nice touch.” Gerald turned slightly to Edward, pursing his lips appreciatively.

“And you have… swans?” Gerald turned closer to the window, putting his glass down. “Good lord, they are. I haven’t had swan in ages, where’s your shotgun?”

With a small cry, I rose from my chair, ready to defend my brothers.

“He’s just joking,” Edward said to me. “Right, Dad?” The last part came out hissed.

Puzzled, Gerald’s attention moved back to me. “They’re yours I suppose?”

I nodded, clutching my hands to stop myself from running at him. Shooting swans?

“I don’t suppose you would allow an old man an indulgence and let me—” My expression must have tipped him off. “Well, I suppose not. Too bad.”

He held out his glass for Edward to refill it and returned to watching my oblivious brothers frolic in the water. “They are kind of pretty.”

Our first meeting went downhill from there. Gerald wasn’t exactly crass, but he didn’t hold his opinion on anything back either. From my wardrobe, which lacked expensive labels—which I thought had been pricey enough—to a picture on the wall that should be replaced by a painting from someone who I gathered was famous in New York.

“You’ve got to diversify your investments,” Gerald lectured later, after dinner.

“I do, this painting is from Mai Ling. I paid a pittance for it. In a few years it will triple in value,” Edward informed his dad without bragging or lecturing.

Gerald raised his glass in cheers to his son and emptied it in one swallow. “So, what’s on the agenda tonight? Any good pub or club around here? I wouldn’t mind meeting any of the local more influential residents.”

“I’m afraid you are on your own on this.” Edward held out his hand to me. “I have to get up early to drive to Wilmington and buy some supplies for the site.”

“Send Jack or somebody else,” Gerald suggested.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Jack has a family thing and I don’t trust any of the others not to overspend on the items we need. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in time for our tour. Good night.” Edward pulled me out of the room before his father had a chance to protest and we walked noisily up the stairs.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to take you with me tonight.” Edward nuzzled my throat when we reached his bedroom. Well, our bedroom for appearances’ sake. Nobody ever slept in it though. Edward left the mansion and my brothers and I either accompanied him or slept in the room he had originally assigned to us. In the morning, Edward or I would crumble his bedding to make it appear as if we had slept in it and one of the maids would make it.

All my things had been moved into Edward’s suite, but I didn’t like sleeping alone in his bed, so I snuck into my brothers’, where I made the bed myself in the morning.

It wasn’t perfect, but then again when was life ever perfect? I was happier than I had thought possible after our stepmom’s curse, and if that was the price we had to pay for our happiness, I was more than willing to do so.

“I’ll be back in the morning,” Edward promised, kissing me deeply.

I’ll be here waiting for you, I promised.

“If you run into my dad, just ignore his rudeness, he is as he is.”

I’ll love him because he’s your dad.

“I love you.” He kissed me one more time.

I made our special sign, touching my nose, I, painting an invisible heart over his chest, love, nudging his nose with my pointer finger, you.

I saw him off as he climbed down the balcony and snuck through the bushes like a special ops operative. In preparation for his dad’s arrival, he had parked the truck farther from the house. I waited until I heard the subdued sound of the motor announcing his departure.

My heart was heavy as always when he took off at night by himself. I already missed him, but it was safer this way. In case his father came by looking for him later in the evening or at night, I could make excuses and signal that Edward wasn’t feeling well or was in the shower, or whatever.

For that purpose, I would actually sleep in his bed tonight and the following until Gerald left. I hated being alone, but I really didn’t want to invite my brothers into Edward’s bedroom. As silly as it was, I wanted to keep some boundaries. Plus the guest suite we had been using since we arrived, had been turned into a swan haven. I had no idea where Marie found all this stuff, but miraculously, eleven small beds had arrived, perfect for my brothers.

Eleven silver bowls were always filled with fresh water, small balls, squeaky toys, sticks, and all kinds of pet toys waited patiently for my brothers’ attention. I was astounded the first time I watched them actually play with them. Their favorite was a soccer ball, which was usually left outside. I couldn’t help but dream of a future where my brothers became themselves again, strapping young men, and smiled at imagining how Marie would spoil them then.

In all of my daydreams I had to always remind myself that my brothers wouldn’t look the same anymore. William had been three when Constancia cursed us and he would now be seven, and when the spell broke, nine. Same for Caspian, who had been twenty, just on the cusp of becoming a man. He would be twenty-six then. Tears pooled in my eyes at the longing to see them now, not in their swan form but as my brothers. The pain threatened to overwhelm me. I wanted to hold them, talk to them.

I wondered what they were thinking, how they were taking their lot. Were they mourning their lost years? Were they happy? Oh God, I prayed, please let them be happy in their own way.