My Ice Prince
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I had no more words. I kissed Mum's hand and left the office.
Not a sound, not even the rustle of paper, came from her office for another hour or so. Apparently, I had struck Mum in the heart.
But I felt euphoric, and I vowed to become myself, to become the Misha that Cedric saw in me, the one who had cried in front of him.
***
At the end of August, the whole family, except for Mariszka, who had officially joined the Morgan clan and was no longer considered a member of our Mroczek clan, gathered in the large living room to discuss my fate. So that I couldn't hear what they were talking about (a laugh!), they sent me out of town, to our big cottage, and for some reason the discussion dragged on for almost a week: it was the first of September, and I would have to get ready for school, and they couldn't give me an answer as to whether I was going or staying at home. I called someone from the family every day to ask if they had finalised their discussion, but for the sixth day in a row I heard the same thing: «maybe tomorrow».
I knew how much I was loved by my extended family and how much everyone was used to my constant presence at home. When I was very young I was simply carried in their arms, for I was an adorable late baby. I was vaguely aware that vampires breed very slowly, and that I was the only vampire under a hundred years old, meaning that there were no vampires my age or younger than me in the whole world, which was depressing: my brothers were over two hundred years old-Martin was three hundred and five, Mscislav was two hundred and fifty; my sisters were slightly younger-Maria was two hundred and thirteen, and Mariszka was two hundred in August. Well, and me – eighteen. In December I'll be nineteen.
My older brothers and sisters did not understand me, but spoilt me and fulfilled all my requests: in winter Mscislav and Martin drove me on sledges, built with me snowmen and ice sculptures, and watched with me cartoons by Walt Disney. Mariszka babysat me like a mummy, and Maria came to visit us rarely. In the eyes of my family, I was just an unsophisticated child, for they were so… Old and wise. What then to speak of parents who were over five hundred years old?
But, once again, after hearing «I guess we'll decide tomorrow», I gave up and came home to put an end to this ridiculous action: they had convened a consilium to decide whether to let me go to Oxford or not! Ridiculous. However, my arrival surprised no one: it turned out that they themselves had assumed that I would be impatient and come to disturb them, and I was pleasantly surprised and angry at the same time – all this time only one question had been decided.
«Who will look after Misha in England?»
As for me going to Oxford, everyone agreed on the first day, after much debate of course. It took a long time to convince me… Not even Dad (!), but Martin, who just couldn't live without me.
– Why do you have to go anywhere, sister? Isn't there a university in Warsaw worthy of you? – He asked me unhappily, greeting me with a hug.
– It's not a matter of principle, it's a call of the heart» I answered him seriously. And no lies.
I hugged all my relatives, stood in the centre of the circle of chairs in which they were sitting, and felt like a clown in the circus.
– I knew you wouldn't stand for it and come here to stick your nose in grown-up business» said my father, smiling. – But Martin is right: if you had chosen any university, not even in Warsaw, but in Poland or the Czech Republic, I wouldn't have been so concerned about your choice. But you chose England for some reason.
– I think Oxford is the best place to start my life. I'm not going to America, I'm only going to England! – I retorted to my father.
– It's your 'just' that's killing me» Mum grumbled. – Maria, what are you going to tell Mischa?
Maria shook her long hair, which was the same colour as mine, and indeed, like the rest of our family: we were all golden-haired.
– I'll say to her, «Write often, my friend!» – Maria said cheerfully.
I sent her a kiss, but then I remembered that I didn't have to play the role of the cranky girl I hated, so I pulled myself together and made a serious face.
– Well, let's remove this question, – said the father tiredly, – and continue our reasoning: who to entrust Misha in England?
– We have decided that it will be your cousin Christopher, – Mscislav reminded his father. – He, as no one better, will be able to look after his great-niece.
– No, Christopher can not: I called him this morning – he went to Australia, breeding kangaroos. What the hell is he doing there?
– I think Frederik Haraldson is at Oxford now» Martin began, but his father, his face contorted with rage, interrupted him sternly.
– Not a word about him and his family! – he exclaimed in an angry voice.
«Whoa! What's the matter with him? What a violent reaction to the name of this Frederik!» – involuntarily ran through my mind.
– How many times, Father? You haven't spoken to each other for three years! Poor Frederik, I feel sorry for him! – Martin said unhappily to his father.
– Sorry? Why should you feel sorry for him? – parried my father.
My ears perked up and I stared at my father: the mere mention of this unknown vampire made my father furious.
«What happened between Dad and this vampire to make Dad so angry?» – I thought, cautiously watching this new turn of events.
– Believe me, his… -» Martin began.
– I said not a word about him! – My father even raised his voice, which he had never done before.
Martin grinned mockingly, my mother pressed her lips together, and Mscislav and Maria frowned and looked at each other as if my older brother had said something nonsensical. And I got quite frightened.
«Oh, Martin, why did you say that? It was completely out of place! Now Dad might forbid me to go to Oxford! No, not that!» – I thought grudgingly and fearfully, and let Martin know it by tapping his forefinger on his temple, but without his father seeing it.
But Martin only shrugged his shoulders indifferently.
– Dad, I hope…» I started, but when my father looked at me, his eyes burned with such anger that I was afraid I would make him even angrier.
– What, Misha? – he asked calmly.
I was confused: the calm tone of his voice didn't match the expression on his face or the anger in his eyes.
– I hope it's because of that Frederik… What's his name again?
– Haraldson» Maria told me.
– Yes, because of him… You won't forbid me to go to Oxford? – I asked hopefully.