There was shouting coming from the study. Nikolas paused, half-way between putting a sock on his foot. It wasn't because of anything he did was it? Though he knew from experience that Brytha was always snappish while bookkeeping, and she always did her bookkeeping in the early hours of the morning. Something about the fresh air made it better, she had told him, on one of the rare days that he sat with her. She didn't like anyone being in the room with her when she did her sums, especially if Nikolas. He frowned, and strained his ears, but no, Brytha was not yelling his name and he breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was her ire directed his way this early in the morning. Then buckling on his shoes and making his way to his bedroom door, he listened closer. It wasn't any names of the merchants, but he didn't expect it to be. Brytha never shouted at the merchants, no she only reserved taking the gloves off for family and close friends. It meant that she cared. At least that was what he kept telling himself. But he should see what was going on anyway, his name wasn't called but it would not be wise to keep Brytha waiting.

He knew that he was useless to her, what with his inability, no matter how hard he tried, to remember the sums and how to do them. It wasn't that he was incapable of mathematics, if she read out the numbers and account names to him, then he could do fine, but that was just a waste of her time and patience. The latter was what Brytha did not have these days. Even if he couldn't make out all the bills piling up on her desk, a pile of unpaid or yet to be paid bills was not a good thing. The bills were all for his siblings, so it wasn't as if Brytha could smile and make excuses for not paying. The ones that had been troubling Brytha of late was Guigo and Diase. The twins needed money for their boarding school, and the two of them were so close to graduating that they needed all the help their family could give them, even if their tuition was ludicrously expensive. Brytha had complained privately to their father that all the wizards wanted was to chase the latest creation and put them in their collection. She had more words to say as well but stopped herself, breathing in deeply. Nikolas suspected it was because he was in the room, but he couldn't quite understand why she wouldn't tell him what it was, who would he talk to about her views on magic and wizards? Nikolas wasn't a gossip. But she wasn't done, Brytha had sat down on her chair, taken up the piles of paper and going through them one by one with an angry glare.

'Do they actually do magic?' she had demanded, slamming the piles of tuition bills on the table. Her hair had flown out from the neat bun and she'd scowled, reaching for the pins she kept on the ready.

So it had been one of those days, and Nikolas had decided to make himself scarce. He had seen a pile of papers and had trying to make himself busy by shuffling papers in the corner. She was kind enough to mark it in little symbols so he could help her organize without having to read anything. A sort of code, he would have been appreciative if she hadn't taken several hours explaining how the whole system worked.

In his armchair by the corner, Aldeim had shrugged a shoulder, 'And they've already committed to being wizards. If you wouldn't tell Sanna and Viola to stop then you shouldn't tell Guigo and Diase to.'

Sanna and Viola were set on being musicians and being musicians, they needed tutors and lessons and fancy instruments. Then they also needed to find the right spouses and that meant setting them up with the right Mastachka. Brytha seemed more inclined to help them.

'I can hear them getting better,' she had retorted, 'what can I even ask Guigo and Diase to do for me? They can't even come back home until they've taken their new names, so I can't even address a proper letter to them! It's acolyte this or wizard that or whatever in those stuffy academies. They don't even use their names!'

He had wondered what names Guigo and Diase would chose, surely Diase would keep hers, she was named after their mother, and surely that meant something? But what did he know of wizards and their arcane rituals. He didn't even know what it was that Jozin did, and Jozin was a witch. But then again witches weren't like wizards they didn't go to the academies and they didn't share their practices that openly. Nikolas had been certain that even witch names were different from wizard one. Witches didn't change their names that often, or Jozin would have told him about it. Unless Jozin had thought he didn't deserve to know, and that was foolish because Jozin was his friend and didn't friends tell each other the important things in life? He had been so lost in thought he didn't notice his father was speaking.

'—It is their choice and we have to respect it,' Aldeim had said simply. He had returned to counting and making notations, ignoring the fuming Brytha entirely.

She couldn't do much more for that was that, his father had the last word in the house, even if Brytha ran the business these days, as was the right thing to do. Nikolas wasn't sure if that was better or worse that his father was now officially head of the house. His mother had been absent, but now she was gone entirely. And he wasn't sure if he liked the man that stepped up to her pedestal.

Brytha had done good on her word, she'd waited until the… he swallowed, the burials were over. Then she had taken Aldeim's hand and pressed the paperwork into them. The resulting scene… Well, Nikolas was sure whatever love existed between his parents died that day. No one looked as cold as Aldeim did. Especially when Aldeim had asked the children in turn, in front of Diase if they wanted to stay with their mother, or go with him and Brytha.

As it turned out, when one didn't have a relationship with one's children, it didn't matter if one was their mother. Out of all his siblings, Nikolas was the only one who wrote to Diase. It was a long and laborious process, because each word was a struggle and he didn't even know what to say to someone he had not seen in years. So it was good that he only sent them on holidays, and everyone knew what you had to write in letters on the holidays. The letters that came back he carefully hid from the rest of the family, because his mother was a buried topic these days. It was as buried as the rest of his siblings.

Though it wasn't as if Aldeim completely forgot about them, that would be wrong. His father still wore the same belt from all those years ago. They had a dining room in their new house as well, much smaller compared to his childhood home, but it was enough to have chairs for all of Aldeim's children. The chairs were kept clean and the places in front of them were empty, except for their birthdays when Aldeim would place flowers and sweetcakes in front of their empty seat. Peonies for Richan, and a red berry cake, purple lilies for Lianne, and spiced sweetroll, tulips for Felie and cookies shaped like animals, a daisy crown for Ada and cakes slathered with honey. And as many bottles of wine for Aldeim as could be procured for that day.

Everyone knew to keep away. It was only Nikolas that came afterwards to put the empty bottles in a corner and try to help Aldeim to his bedroom. He couldn't bring himself to look through the door and see the forlorn figure with the empty bottles, the dead fire and the empty chairs in front of him.

He knew he wasn't Aldeim's favorite, and his father had tried so many times to help Nikolas find something that he was good at. He had offered to look and in many cases searched for any number of trades that he knew for Nikolas. The problem was the ones he deemed worthy for his son needed precisely the skill Nikolas was lacking. It made a horrible sinking feeling in his throat, the day he realized that he knew there were meanings behind letters but he could not understand them. Not as they were written, in the curving script that his sister used in her formal letters to the merchants, or in the shorthand of her lodger. He could understand books if they were carefully printed letter for letter. But that was for teaching children, and Nikolas was not a child.

He was possibly good at sketching and painting, the one time he tried his hand at it, but Aldelm had scoffed at that, telling him that painters and penniless were two words that go hand in hand. All in all, Nikolas felt like a spectator in his siblings' very accomplished lives. He took a deep breath before knocking on the study door. Brytha was there, as was Aldeim and the two of them looked up when he creaked open the door.

"Is something the matter?" Nikolas said tentatively.

"She's written," Brytha said, and gestured towards the letter as if it personally offended her.

She could be anyone, so he waited for Brytha to continue.

"Your mother was told of our money problems," his father said, rubbing his temples, "I don't know how, but she must have her ways. She offered to help with money and I told her no, so she offered to help you."

"With what?" Nikolas said faintly.

Brytha scowled, "She wanted you to go to Prebovna. I don't know what for, but she said you should show one of the Voevada this," here she gestured to what looked like a gold coin lying on the table.

"I told her to not send any money and she sent a coin," Aldeim muttered. He sat down with a thud on the nearby seat and was rubbing at his temples again.

"You could tell her to take it back," Brytha suggested.

"Prebovna would maybe give Nikolas the chance he needs," said Aldeim, "I can't just tell her to take it back Brytha, even if I wanted to."

"Will you send her a response at least?"

"If Nikolas shows up to Prebovna with the con, that's good enough," said Aldeim. He was quiet after that, and stood up, striding over to the window and staring into the distance. There was just snow there, and tracks from the chimneys, maybe a curious squirrel or bird, but that was all. Nikolas knew because he'd stood there many times.

Sometimes he'd even glance down, hoping that it was Jozin coming for a visit. But that was a foolish dream, Jozin had responsibilities now, and besides, the roads were restricted in the winter. And didn't Jozin say that it was always winter in Skapina. Nikolas waited until Aldeim turned back to face them.

He couldn't read the expression on his father's face. He gestured towards the coin and Brytha nodded for him to pick it up. The coin was heavy in his hand, heavier than he'd expected for such a small thing. It had the Tsarina's face on it, staring serenely at him, her crown on her head and a kindly smile on her wrinkled face. It was the old Tsarina, not the old one, and he could make out his mother's name at the bottom of the coin. So it was one of those special tokens from before, for the new Tsarina, it was said, never smiled. The new Tsarina was crowned while... he swallowed. There was a reason why whispers surrounded the legitimacy of her throne. She was crowned in blood, Tsarina Belena.