08-19-2025, 07:40 PM
Natalie gave Emily the space to find the words in her own time, listening without interruption. She’d never met either of Emily’s sisters, though Emily mentioned them sometimes – with, admittedly, more fondness than Natalie ever spoke of her own. Isobel had never forgiven her for standing by their father, so they rarely talked, and Alice was young and innocent enough that the best thing Natalie could do for her was keep a distance. The Shales were close, though, bound both by blood and by the tragedy of their loss. Natalie had never heard of people able to control another’s emotions, but she didn’t doubt the possibility. It sent a chill down her spine, imagining the violation of it, though her expression remained calm as still waters despite her own internal reaction. Anger hovered under Emily’s tone as she continued, never quite taking hold, and Natalie wondered what had happened to the man in question. She didn’t ask, though that kind of secret would be quite safe with her. Clearly it had been dealt with, and Emily didn’t need the stress of reliving it.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” she said, with a slightly pointed glance in Emily’s direction. They knew each other better than that, even if it was just ingrained societal politeness to be self-effacing about having feelings. Either way, Natalie accepted friendship in fullness for those few she let in, and that usually meant she was unapologetically straightforward. She shifted to wrap her palms around her glass of water, digesting the confidence quietly – not because it was too heavy a burden, but because it touched deeper than she chose to reveal. Comfort was a hollow response, and she wouldn’t belittle the battle it must be by offering it even in good faith. She’d lived through enough tragedy of her own to know there were not always happy endings.
“I volunteered in a women’s shelter before the school,” she said after a moment. Her time at Jasiri wasn’t something she really spoke about, in part because it hadn’t ended well, and in part because her experiences in Africa weren’t easily shared – especially those that revealed a rawness in herself. In that short year after first leaving the Custody, Natalie had discovered quickly just how much the justice she had always thought a right could be a privilege of wealth and status denied to others. The lesson was administered the hard way despite her heart being in the right place. Maybe it was one she was still learning, given everything.
“It’s a hard road, both for those walking it, and the people around them who only want to help. Some of the healing that happened there was just keeping busy, learning new skills – something to own outside of the trauma. I don’t have answers you won’t have already thought of, and I know that’s not why you told me. But if she ever wants to get outside of the city, and isn’t afraid of a little hard work, I can always use extra hands getting things ready at Belizna.”
The offer was made with sincerity, but without any expectations. Being busy was something that had helped Natalie too back then, a foundation she still leaned on frequently as it happened, though she didn’t add that part.
“The worry, though. Watching someone suffer without being able to shoulder any of the burden. I understand how it feels.” The words were carefully light, maybe a little contemplative, but she didn’t dwell wherever her thoughts went. When she looked at Emily again, her eyes were warm. “Normally I’d suggest we drown it in an entirely irresponsible afternoon of cocktails, but I guess that’s a raincheck.” She leaned to clink her water glass with a smirk that pierced the stillness she’d maintained up until then. “In the meantime good food and company will suffice. Well, good food minus the pickles, obviously.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” she said, with a slightly pointed glance in Emily’s direction. They knew each other better than that, even if it was just ingrained societal politeness to be self-effacing about having feelings. Either way, Natalie accepted friendship in fullness for those few she let in, and that usually meant she was unapologetically straightforward. She shifted to wrap her palms around her glass of water, digesting the confidence quietly – not because it was too heavy a burden, but because it touched deeper than she chose to reveal. Comfort was a hollow response, and she wouldn’t belittle the battle it must be by offering it even in good faith. She’d lived through enough tragedy of her own to know there were not always happy endings.
“I volunteered in a women’s shelter before the school,” she said after a moment. Her time at Jasiri wasn’t something she really spoke about, in part because it hadn’t ended well, and in part because her experiences in Africa weren’t easily shared – especially those that revealed a rawness in herself. In that short year after first leaving the Custody, Natalie had discovered quickly just how much the justice she had always thought a right could be a privilege of wealth and status denied to others. The lesson was administered the hard way despite her heart being in the right place. Maybe it was one she was still learning, given everything.
“It’s a hard road, both for those walking it, and the people around them who only want to help. Some of the healing that happened there was just keeping busy, learning new skills – something to own outside of the trauma. I don’t have answers you won’t have already thought of, and I know that’s not why you told me. But if she ever wants to get outside of the city, and isn’t afraid of a little hard work, I can always use extra hands getting things ready at Belizna.”
The offer was made with sincerity, but without any expectations. Being busy was something that had helped Natalie too back then, a foundation she still leaned on frequently as it happened, though she didn’t add that part.
“The worry, though. Watching someone suffer without being able to shoulder any of the burden. I understand how it feels.” The words were carefully light, maybe a little contemplative, but she didn’t dwell wherever her thoughts went. When she looked at Emily again, her eyes were warm. “Normally I’d suggest we drown it in an entirely irresponsible afternoon of cocktails, but I guess that’s a raincheck.” She leaned to clink her water glass with a smirk that pierced the stillness she’d maintained up until then. “In the meantime good food and company will suffice. Well, good food minus the pickles, obviously.”