Again, kindness.
It wasn’t as if Agnes’ entire life was met without, but disoriented, thrown from what was familiar and clearly somewhere new she didn’t know, she found it… strange. She was offered the chance to rest and recuperate before swimming and thought of the aches in her body and the soreness in her muscles. It would be smart to say yes.
Despite her inner worries, Vasilissa had given her absolutely no reason to mistrust her intentions as genuine. She wanted Agnes to live among her numbers and wanted to provide safety which were necessary essentials that she could not deny needing.
“No,” Agnes said and shook her head, determined. She was not wounded and could push through slight exhaustion from what felt like a turbulent night swim to do so again. She wanted to be in a place she was supposedly meant to be and sort her mind to figure out where and who and what she was, or what she was meant to do next.
She hoped she would stop thinking of her father and would not dream of him again. Each moment his voice crawled across her mind she felt herself stabbed with a dull ache, and a vivid flash of horror that wanted to spread across her mind and force her to look reality in the face once more. No… no… that wouldn’t do.
“I am tired from my swim last night, but I want to go to your home and not linger any longer than necessary.” And Agnes remembered she was meant to be polite, that Vasilissa had invited her to be a part of that very place, and corrected herself, “to our home.”
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