“But you underestimate our feelings for you. You have no idea how difficult it is to see your baby sister… We can’t fix this,” Steffen said.
Elise looked up at these words, not because of what they meant but because of the way Steffen said them. Steffen typically wore an immobile fa?ade of good humor. Rarely would one see him angry, and the only time Elise could ever recall seeing sorrow on his face was when Queen Ingrid died. But now Elise could hear Steffen’s voice wobble with emotion.
“It’s not that we can’t free ourselves as swans. It is that we can’t do anything to protect you. We’re stupid birds by day, understanding very little and remembering even less. Even if we knew, what could we do for you? It is terrible, Elise, to watch you undertake such pain and suffering for us when we can do nothing in return. I was determined to never sacrifice any of my siblings, and that is precisely what we’ve done to you.”
Steffen was silent for a few moments before he continued. “There is nothing worse as a prince, or as a man, than to see someone you care deeply for suffering and to be unable to fix it. As a result, I fear we may appear to be callous to you because we’re festering in our selfishness, wondering if all of this is worth it if we can’t even protect our sister.”
A twig cracked when Steffen shifted. “None of this excuses our behavior, but we owed you an explanation. I am sorry, Elise. I never thought you would put up a front as I do.”
The silence stretched on again as Steffen gathered his thoughts. “Angelique, the Lady Enchantress, will be able to free us in a year. We will gladly wait until then. You are free to do whatever you want, Elise. You have already saved us by bringing us to Verglas. We can ask nothing further of you. Think on what you would like to do, sister. We will do everything in our power to see you happy. Sweet dreams, Elise,” Steffen said.
He crunched on leaves and twigs as he marched back in the direction of their camp.
Elise sat in her tree and listened to her older brother walk away.
“Freedom isn’t want I wanted. I just want to be included,” Elise murmured.
Chapter 7
The following day, Elise was too stiff to stay in her tree for the day. Instead, she retrieved her knitting—if she was being honest with herself she knew she could never leave her foster brothers as swans no matter how tumultuous their relationship was at the moment—and sat out of sight in the forest, intending to retreat to a tree when the hour of transformation arrived.
She sat on the opposite side of the rock formation she used as shelter, out of sight of the pond and thus her foster brothers.
Brida did not speak much, if at all. The guard captain practiced her sword form and archery for a few hours before grooming the horses and catching a few fish. She kept busy, but she always was within eye-sight of the rock formation.
Somewhat alone, Elise bit her tongue until it bled to keep herself from screaming in pain as she knit. Tears stung her eyes, and she didn’t bother to wipe them from her face.
Elise was so involved in her work that she didn’t notice the swan until it was a few feet away from her.
Elise stared at the swan. The swan stared back at Elise.
She couldn’t tell which brother it was, and she leaned back into her rock as he walked a half circle around her before sitting down within kicking range.
Elise considered getting up and climbing a tree, but the prospect did not seem appealing thanks to her stiff back and sore bottom. Besides, both Steffen and Rune mentioned they couldn’t clearly remember what was going on when they were swans, right? It was most likely that whatever brother this was would forget she was here by the time he transformed.
After Elise made up her mind and went back to knitting, the swan stood and took a few steps closer before sitting down again. Elise glanced up from her knitting, but did not respond.
A few minutes later, the swan moved closer again and again, until an hour later, he sat even with Elise, his feathers occasionally brushing her when he used his orange beak to preen his feathers.
Elise looked at the swan, and the swan looked back to Elise. Realizing how ridiculous they must look—a grubby girl sewing nettles and a swan behaving like a dog—Elise let the corners of her lips curl before she shook her head and returned to knitting.
“Eliiiiiise!”
“Elise,”
ELISE!”
Elise squinted in the dying light—the sun had dipped beyond the horizon but its glow hadn’t completely departed yet, letting Elise knit on. “I think I can finish this tonight,” Elise said, looking at the nettle shirt. She had completed the front half of the shirt and was working on the back half. When that was finished, all that was left to do was to stitch the two pieces together.
