It seemed a lifetime (or three) since Galina and Mari had made the promise. Seemed as if it had been a different set of people altogether when it had been made. But a promise was a promise. Even an agreement made between two people who had once been traveling companions but had blossomed into the only family the other had, even those agreements were to be honored. When it came to Mari Galina knew she’d keep the promise. Knew she’d act on Mari’s wishes. She might be practical, but acting on this particular promise was pragmatic enough that Galina could no longer continue to sit here idle. Mari, for all her faults, would not wish it.
When Ishmael had smuggled in news late in December Galina had felt a sense of dread seize her stomach. She had known what to do when she heard that Mari had not returned to the coven. She had been gone for well over a year, longer even then Galina had languished in this jail. Longer than the promise dictated. Galina knew, in her heart she had on some level already known, Mari wasn’t coming back. There was no need to protect her now. No need to keep silent. She could act on what Lyra and her lawyer and everyone around here had insisted on - talk. Give the truth. Save herself. And Galina was selfish and pragmatic enough to do just that.
Footsteps indicated an approaching visitor. Her visitor. She steeled herself, reminding herself of court, of the salons she had been a part of. It wasn’t swallowing her pride it was being practical, realistic. She settled herself on a chair as if it were a salon she owned and organized and not a jail cell, looking at ease in her captivity.
Mrs. Skeeter appeared looking rather as if she had eaten something particularly sour. Hadn’t all Ministry employees been home the past few days? Galina wondered, judging by the relative silence that had settled around the cells. It wouldn’t do to dwell on reasons for the woman’s mood, but perhaps she might find out through questioning. Not that that was her goal here.
“
Well enough.” Galina shrugged as if it were nothing for the woman to concern herself with. Afterall, she was locked in a cell, in her mind that was hardly respectable treatment for someone she suspected they knew hadn’t committed the crime. She wasn’t a fool, however, they had needed the public to feel safe by putting her in here. Well now they did and they and they had long since forgotten the very events that had led to her current circumstances.
Remembering the woman’s last visit, Galina felt it rather more prudent to cut straight to the chase. “
Last time we visited,” Galina said as if this had been a mutual thing,”
you had offered to help.” And Galina had stubbornly refused to say a thing, now though, there was nothing to stay her tongue any longer. She would not be a captive in a cage of her own creation any longer. “
So, Mrs. Skeeter, how can you help.” Galina, of course, knew, but she wasn’t going to play that card - yet.
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an amazing bee work of art
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