A touch of family Royal Drama

“Feral....? Hfffmm....” this part of conversation trickles through the air and out of context it seems to hang there frozen.... the next comes out in staccatos “....en vild räv.... vansinnig.... crazy like a fox....” it is Elsa’s voice

But the words are chevron patterns in my mind;

it is instead, something like electric shock

that strikes through the air waves that seem able to tackle me

We step out of Jörn’s bedroom together and he says from behind me,
“Mama!”

Should I follow any of this?

I look in the direction of Elsa who is by the coat closet brushing off the opera coat with a valet brush. She sniffs it,
“har någon använt det här?”

Now I hear Jörn make angry sounds I’ve never heard before—a kind of spit but it’s more like from his throat and he then shouts something.... but I don’t have any idea how to spell it....

I get a chill that goes all through me.

I am stopped with a dreaded feeling in my center— like as if frozen on the spot

and look up at Jörn..., then

instinctively I back up and look around

Why is everyone looking at me?

I want to sink through the floor.

I hear a sound come from my vocal cords that belies my courage but thankfully no one else hears this; it sounds like a strangled mouse

Andreas looks uncomfortable I notice— his face visibly flushed and I hear him mumble something at her but only for her ears. He stands near her

Only Josef looks at me now.

His white-gray brows tightly woven as they stare at me with one eyebrow raised at me to tell me...? What... ? what is that?

I see his hand sort of wave at me conspiringly but I don’t understand the context. Then he does a gesture with his head to Jörn behind me as his eyes look at him

I look back at Elsa

She holds the opera coat and looks at me. She forces a funny smile and sniffs it again. She looks at me now thoughtfully

Jörn says,
“Mama,” again but this time his tone is softly appealing; entreating

After a tense moment she says, looking at me,

“What scent do you wear?”

I look at the opera coat and start to realize what she is talking about

“Yes, I borrowed it,” I say

“She borrowed it, Mama,” Jörn says even though it’s obvious by now

I say,
“Caylyx.”

She makes a face that is hard to translate, she arches a brow and sniffs thoughtfully,
“and patchouli?”

it feels like all the pores of my skin are burning with her sting and I don’t know why

but .... I get that inadequate feeling

I half want to turn and run back to Jörn’s room because of the sting in her eyes. I feel stung and I feel my eyes burn

“It’s— lovely....” she sighs

“Hanna outgrew it years ago,” Jörn concedes —he means the coat because he’s trying to change the subject

“Ja, ja.... yes, of course she did....”

She says, looking at me,
“your father has a street named after him?”

I don’t know if that’s a challenge

Oh God....

I look up at Jörn and he takes hold of my hand and yanks me along towards the kitchen,
“I’m making coffee,” he says and then looks at me

I start to realize I am in a drama. Is this what he meant?

Shit. I’m not good at this

Then we are in the kitchen. Jörn starts barking orders at me. He points to the kettle to fill as he starts searching his cupboards

Andreas starts playing something ominous on the piano and Elsa walks over to me. She smiles,

“you have very lovely skin....”

“Oh....!” I find I stammer, “you do too....” ?

Well she does.....

I look for Josef hoping to get a possible hint or cue and when I spot him he is looking at me. He walks over and makes a secret hand gesture to me that I am clueless over. I lack social cues anyway but it seems worse without my Swedish app

His cheery eyes dance mercurially as he suggests,
“shouldn’t you and Jörn do some more practice? I’d like to hear the new ending the way I suggested...?”

Elsa throws him an arched look and walks past us to the piano. She calls,

“Jörn!” through her nose in that way that sharply reminds me of Jörn’s text tone for her

Jörn speaks into my ear softly—but it’s actually another order he’s barking at me. He says,

“when the water boils— pour it into the carafe,” but sharply adds “ —but don’t push down the plunger!”