Are you my grandmother?
Inka and Sterre briefly exchanged glances in the pause that followed. Inka had never seen the former queen of the Arch so uncertain, but her own doubt at how best to answer her daughter's question left her silent and antipating Sterre's response with a slack expression. "Something like that," Sterre responded with a strained smile, and Inka offered the mare a tiny nod of satisfaction. Although she was unsure how much she liked the idea of Sterre being in her daughter's life, now did not feel like the ideal time to explain the mare's role in their family to young Jetta.
Her eyes darted to the filly and saw that the girl was still staring at Sterre with a blank, curious expression - evidently she was uncertain how to process what she had been told. Thankfully Jetta remained quiet, however, so Inka took advantage of the lull in conversation to look back at her father and see how he had reacted to Sterre and Jetta's awkward exchange. The giant still stood with his chin tucked to his chest and his milky amber eyes staring at nothing. If he had heard anything of what had just happened, he made no clue of it.
Then, to her surprise, Impazienza made an appearance. Inka swung her body around to give the prime minister room to join their group, and offered her a dubious smile, just as Jetta's expression brightened and a cheerful "hi, Impa!" tumbled from her mouth. Oh no. I almost forgot. Inka's gut tightened and her eyes darted back to Het Vuur, just in time to see a sharpness appear in his gaze. Slowly, his ears went back, then forward again, and he lifted his chin until he was standing at his full height with his nose pointed more or less straight in the prime minister's direction. His nostrils opened to test the air. Inka could practically see the cogs turning.
Thankfully she had never been directly involved in the drama between Impazienza and her father (and Sterre, for that matter), but it had been no secret to her either. It was common knowledge among the herd that Impa had not been happy in the arch, and that she had not got along with its king or queen. Of course, Inka did not know that Impa's relationship with Het Vuur and Sterre was more complicated than that - that Impa had been taken away from him, and that he and Sterre had fought, and lost, in an attempt to regain her.
She did not know that Impazienza had played a significant part in Het Vuur's downfall.
When Sterre used the prime minister's full name, Inka saw the switch flip in her father's head. The tiniest suggestion of a frown appeared between his eyes, and he grew very still. Her heart racing, Inka offered Impa a strained smile and hoped that if she blew past the tension that it would dissolve like snow under warm rain.
"Impa," she greeted the other mare, and studied her face in an attempt to read her mood. Thankfully, Impazienza was composed and showed no qualms at the fact that two horses she had once disliked had walked uninvited into her home.
Jetta spoke up then, her youthful expression the picture of blissful ignorance as she addressed the prime minister. "Impa, you know my grandpa and sort-of-grandma?"
"We... all lived together once, a long time ago," Inka answered on Impa's behalf, her dark eyes carefully watching the prime minister as if to silently apologize for cutting into the conversation. After a moment, she turned back to Het Vuur, who still stood with a tension in his body that did not bode well. "Dad... Sterre... Impa is the prime minister here."
"She keeps us all safe," Jetta chimed in brightly, her little tail wagging and her blue eyes regarding her grandparents with pride.
Het Vuur opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. A few moments passed. Then, ever so slightly, he angled his head toward Sterre and averted his eyes, exhaling forcefully. "Vertel hen," he muttered, his voice like grit.
i N K A
friesian mare of the peak |