Anaisa was overwhelmed by the attention of her new mother-in-law and sister-in-law. Their expressions of profound surprise and, as expected, pity, had quickly shifted into a muted excitement.
"I have two dresses that don't fit since I had children and hadn't yet gotten around to altering," Sarah was saying as she dug through a trunk, "I bet they'll fit you!"
Trace's mother was carefully going through a small box of items and finally pulled out a simple ring.
"If you want something new, I will understand, but since you're part of the family, I thought you might like to wear an heirloom as a wedding ring." She smiled softly down at the circle of gold in her hand. "This was my grandmother's. If you like it, it can be yours."
She held out the delicate band of gold in her palm for Anaisa's examination. Some unnamed emotion closed the younger woman's throat.
Jewelry?
Her mother's jewelry had all been taken by Barnabas, and was likely being sold even now since he had no wife to adorn with them. The beautiful things would possibly never be within Anaisa's reach again. She had barely a possession in the world, and yet her new mother in law was offering her something incredibly precious.
Anaisa's fingers trembled as she reached out to touch the simple ring.
"Are you sure?" She whispered. Guilt flooded her. She should reject the offer outright, even if it offended the woman.
"Of course I am. You're my new daughter!" The older woman held her hand out a little further and placed it in Anaisa's hand.
Gently picking up the ring, Anaisa slipped it onto the proper finger. It fit as if it were made for her. No one had ever been so kind to her, except Katia. Did these women truly consider her to be part of their family so quickly?
"I call her Mom, like Trace and Seth do," Sarah smiled. "I'm sure she won't mind if you do the same."
"I wouldn't mind a bit, but I don't want to intrude on the memory of your own mother or make you uncomfortable if you don't want to." Trace's mother assured Anaisa.
"May I be excused?" The younger woman recalled her manners before she bolted from the room. "I need to step out for a moment."
"Of course you may," Mom assured her. "We don't stand on ceremony here."
Anaisa nodded once and fled, making her way outside with deep breaths. She was drowning in unfamiliar emotion, and needed space immediately.
Leaning against one of the porch's supports, she sank down and sat for a moment, trying to absorb what was going on. What she was feeling. Why her head felt like it might explode.
Guilt was the primary emotion. She made a mental note to make sure to leave the ring with Trace when she ran away. The family was too kind. She didn't want to hurt these people. These women. They didn't deserve what was going to happen.
Of course, Anaisa hadn't deserved to be ousted from her home and stripped of everything.
The whole world seemed unreal around her, from the moment she'd woken up in Trace's home. Their home, he called it. A husband that was kind and generous with what he had, a family that accepted her willingly–enthusiastically!--a home where she didn't have to hide from a drunken father or his abusive friends, or sneak away when she wanted to go outside the walls.
All things she'd never had before. Never dreamed of having. Because she wanted her own life and inheritance back.
Terror and hope warred in her for Katia.
Part of Anaisa refused to believe these people could be this kind. They were acting, but for what purpose? For the sake of harmony?
Her eyes drifted to the gold band on her finger, and she tried to calm her mind. They would not give something valuable to someone unless they wanted something from in return. That wasn't kindness, it was simply bartering.
A far-off chorus of children's laughter took her thoughts in a new direction.
Perhaps they wanted more grandchildren, to fill their family with descendants? And yet, that wasn't an exceptional thing to ask of a daughter-in-law; it was practically guaranteed that when a marriage occurred, children would follow sooner or later.
Her face burned. She would be long gone before that was a possibility.
"I told you, I don't know, Dad," Trace's voice drifted around the side of the house. "I may tell her, eventually, but does she really need to know?"
"That's a big secret to keep," His father warned, and Anaisa froze. "A good marriage is founded on honesty. I'm not saying you both need to know everything about each other right away, but it's part of what makes you who you are."
"I've kept it for so long," Trace sighed. "I don't want it getting out. I'm only beginning to see how much damage it can do, and I don't want anyone else getting wrapped up in it. I also don't know Anaisa well, yet. What if she's a gossip?"
The mention of her name startled the woman out of her eavesdropping. Despite her intensifying curiosity over her husband's apparent secret, she didn't want to get caught listening in when she clearly wasn't meant to hear.
"Does she seem to be a gossip?" Trace's father asked as Anaisa quietly stood and tiptoed back toward the front door. The men were around the corner of the house and just out of view, but she didn't want to make a sound that would attract attention.
She lingered just long enough to listen to Trace's answer.
"No. No, she seems wonderful." He replied.
Anaisa's stomach clenched. Was that what he honestly thought? She wasn't wonderful. If he only knew how she'd been disgraced and declared a fraud by the king, and weakly been cast out of her home, he would despise her. If he knew she was using him for food and shelter while she planned to get back at Barnabas, he would never want to see her again.
Perversely, she was glad he had some kind of dark secret to keep from her. It made her feel a little less wretched. If this kind family knew everything about her, they might have Trace throw her out in the street and hope she died so that he could marry someone better.
Perhaps he would have no qualms about doing it himself. After all, he had been a soldier. He should hate a deserter's daughter more than anyone else. Maybe telling him was an option so that she could leave without so much guilt. He would be better off without her.
Anaisa moved back to the bedroom where the other ladies had been showing her things, and Sarah brightened when she re-entered the room.
"Anaisa! Is everything all right? We're sorry we overwhelmed you." She seemed chagrined. "We don't get visitors every day, let alone new family. We were over-excited."
"No need to apologize," Anaisa replied with a small smile. "This is all just very different than what I'm used to."
"What are you used to? You don't need to tell us everything, but of course we do want to know you better." Trace's mother appeared to be folding clothing into a bag.
"I.." Anaisa hesitated. She had told Trace she didn't want to talk about her upbringing, but these people were so kind. It felt like lying to them in the extreme to pretend like she was better than she was. "My mother died when my sister and I were little and my father cared nothing about us. When he died near the end of the war, we were left destitute. Katia and I had to volunteer as brides because we had no food and no home, and could not find work."
She left out the most shameful part of the story, but everything she had told them was true. That should have been plenty to discourage her new family from liking her too much. To them she would appear as an urchin, a worthless, poor, creature of the streets.
If she disappeared, they would not be too sorry for their son. 'Good riddance' would likely be the attitude all around.
"Oh, you poor, poor thing." Trace's mother had tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry you went through all of that!"
"We'll make sure you're never left hungry," Sarah said firmly. "Neighbors here are great about looking out for each other, and family's even better."
That wasn't the reaction Anaisa expected at all. Why didn't they react how she anticipated?
"That, you are," Trace said from the doorway, making Anaisa jump. "Anaisa and I need to get going now to get some shopping done, but we'll stop by again another day for you ladies to all get to know each other better."
"Of course, of course." His mother finished putting clothing into the bag and handed it to him. "Here are some things that should fit her, we think, but you didn't stay long enough to see if they need altering."
"Next time, we can stay longer," He assured her, but he was looking at his wife.
"Next time," Anaisa heard the words leave her mouth like a promise she was sure she didn't want to make.
Don't make promises you don't intend to keep. It's bad manners. On a side note, I received all of your promises for power stones and look very much forward to you keeping that promise…
Trace thought over the end of the conversation he'd heard between his family and Anaisa. Her brief rendition of her childhood was much more than he'd learned so far, but it fit in with everything else he knew of her.
The couple walked outside together, and Anaisa received hugs and farewells from his family.
All in all, the first meeting had gone even better than he'd hoped. His mother and sister accepted her wholeheartedly, not treating her strangely because of the way she'd become his wife.
Anaisa scrambled up onto the wagon seat again, and Trace ignored his mother's frown.
He wasn't being unmannerly on purpose, but his wife seemed to be unusually hesitant to touch him. He didn't think anything of it at first, but she'd shaken hands with his father and brother easily enough.
And still, she didn't wait for him to help her up onto the wagon. It was becoming harder to believe the avoidance wasn't personal in nature. These things took time; he hoped that was all it was.
He climbed up beside her and snapped the reins, sending the horses on their way toward town as he waved a final goodbye to his family.
"They liked you," He smiled at Anaisa, and she hesitated before smiling back.
"I liked them," She replied softly. "That was helpful, thank you."
"You mean you have enough clothes now?" He looked back toward the bag he'd stashed in the rear.
"That wasn't what I was referring to," She frowned, appearing to go deeper into thought. "Although they were very generous in that regard. I suppose it's not quite charity when they are family."
"I forgot how much you hate charity," He suppressed a grin as he remembered how her eyes had flashed at him in the inn weeks ago. She'd been extremely reticent to accept his offer of the room.
"Should I apologize for how I spoke to you in the city?" She asked suddenly, "I don't remember everything I said back then. So much has happened since."
"You didn't lose your temper, though I could tell you wanted to," Trace teased, "But I'm curious. If you weren't talking about the clothes being helpful, what was helpful about the visit?"
He tried not to show any trepidation about her answer. Had his mother tried to give Anaisa some version of the talk his father had given him? Trace's face reddened at the thought. He hoped his wife had not been made too uncomfortable.
"I understand you a little better now," Anaisa responded, surprising him a great deal.
"Oh?" He fished for more detail from her.
"Yes." She said cryptically, and left it at that.
"I'm fairly burning with curiosity, and you're not going to expand on that, even a little?" He raised one eyebrow.
"I'm not sure how to. You just make a little more sense to me now that I have seen the family you came from."
"I see." He mused. "I wonder if I will feel the same after meeting your sister."
Anaisa sat up a little straighter, but he couldn't tell what she was feeling. Excitement? Nervousness?
"My family had much of what we needed, so mostly we'll stock up on basic food stores, I think," He frowned. "I don't know what you're used to cooking, so I'll let you take lead on what sorts of things we need."
"Simple foods," Anaisa's hands clenched slightly on her dress. "I never had much time to learn anything too complicated."
"What I ate at the inn was wonderful, as well as dinner last night," Trace tried to ease her mind.
"Katia did most of the cooking at the inn," Her mouth twisted slightly and he sensed her anxiety rising again.
"We'll go see if we can find her as soon as we're done shopping," He assured her. "I'll ask the shopkeeper where Jin's house is; I don't recall which one is his."
Anaisa's shoulders relaxed slightly, and she nodded.
"She must be younger, for you to worry about her so much," He observed, but she shook her head.
"No, she's a year older, but much sweeter and quieter, so people usually believe she's the younger." Anaisa corrected.
"Quieter than you? I could hardly pry a word out of you at first," Trace eyed her.
"My sharp tongue gets me into trouble, so I try to keep it to myself when I'm able." Anaisa pressed her lips together with the admission. "I didn't want to make an immediate poor impression."
Trace wanted to laugh, but he could see she was perfectly serious. She deserved a serious response.
"Just act the way you would normally," He encouraged. "What's the use of getting to know each other if we're not actually getting to know who we are?"
"And if you don't like who I am?" Anaisa challenged, her eyes sparking at him.
"We'll deal with that if it happens, but somehow I don't think it's likely," Trace responded evenly.
His wife blinked at him before her eyebrows scrunched together. "I was wrong, I'm not sure I understand you better at all."
This time Trace did laugh, heartily and loudly enough to startle the horses. "I don't mean to be confusing."
"Hm." Anaisa seemed unconvinced, which amused him further.
After a time, they reached the edge of town, and people who recognized Trace began to look at the couple curiously. Perhaps some of them had seen the bridal wagons come through yesterday, because he caught glimpses of gossips whispering and looking at them pointedly.
Should he stop and introduce her to everyone he knew? That would be incredibly time-consuming. There had to be a better way to let everyone know that the woman with him was indeed his wife. He didn't want other men in town thinking she might be available to court. Maybe he should buy her a–
He glanced down at her hand and gasped. A delicate gold wedding ring graced her finger. Trace was too surprised to comment on it, but Anaisa must have noticed the scrutiny, because she laid one hand atop the other and stroked the band with her fingertips.
"Your mother gave it to me to wear. If you would prefer that I give it back–" She said softly.
"No!" He said a little too loudly before lowering his voice, "No, not at all. I just didn't think of getting you a ring until just now, but it seems she beat me to it."
"So you have no objection to me wearing it?" Anaisa looked at him warily as she spoke, apparently ready to assess his reaction.
No. He had none. In fact, it pleased him more than he realized it would. The prospect of taking her out and showing her off to the town as his wife filled him with a strange sort of pride.
"It makes me glad that you are not ashamed to be known as my wife," He finally said.
"It's you who would be ashamed of me," She countered.
"That is unlikely," He shrugged and said nothing further until they arrived at the store.
Pulling the wagon to a stop, he got down while she followed. They received even more curious glances, and he was tempted to take Anaisa's hand, or offer his arm, or some other gesture to further stake his claim on the beautiful woman with him.
However, he wasn't sure how she'd react. How terrible would it be for her to reject the gesture? He would be hurt and embarrassed in front of everyone, and he didn't want a precedent of offering affection merely for show, either.
Trace very much wanted anything between them to be genuine, as it was far too quickly becoming on his side.
Or was it too quickly? They were married, after all.
Inside the store, Anaisa asked for very modest amounts of flour, oil, rice, beans, and, after some contemplation, honey.
"Are you sure that's enough?" He didn't want to interfere with her shopping, but he felt compelled to ask. "There's too much work on the farm to get to town for shopping too often, so buy enough to last through the winter."
Autumn was in full force, and winter snows made trips to town hazardous. It was best to stock up now instead of counting on being able to later.
"Through the whole winter??" Anaisa's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "I can't even calculate how much that would be!"
He scratched the back of his head. "Well, I know in the city you probably had the convenience of going to market every day, but that's not too much of an option on a farm in winter. I can show you how much I would buy for myself, and then we can double it? Though I doubt you eat as much as I do."
His wife looked like she was having trouble understanding his words, so reluctantly, he told the shopkeeper how much to measure out, and then watched as the man began filling a large sack of flour.
A slight tug on his sleeve made him glance again at Anaisa.
She looked as if she might faint.
I sometimes want to faint at the sight of food as well. But only if it's chocolate
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