Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 09 - Without Roots

Maybe Mikael should have tried to take her hand under the table and squeeze it calmly. Only, he couldn’t. There was nothing binding them together. Should he leave her in peace tonight and spare her the mental pain which his proximity seemed to trigger? How could he know that it wasn’t the spiritual pain that Anette feared?

He kept pondering the issue. If he removed himself from the festivities it would just make matters worse, ultimately making her forlorn, forsaken and humiliated.

How on earth was he to survive all this? This night, this marriage? This new life?

All the noisy guests finally left. Marca Christiana had kissed Mikael on the cheek and congratulated him. Gabriel Oxenstierna had shook his hand, muttering something about a good match, and urging him to take good care of her... And then he and Anette were alone in her quarters where they were to stay for the time being.

She had kneeled for a long time in front of the picture of the Virgin Mary in a murmuring prayer he had not understood. Maybe he should have joined her in her prayers, but in his view that would have been too hypocritical.

There was silence, and a heavy atmosphere between them. Anette sat on the edge of a chair in her exquisite wedding dress, fiddling with a lace cuff that had come apart at the seam. Her hair had been skilfully put up with a pearly ribbon and a beautiful veil. Her waist was so narrow that he believed that he could reach around it with his hands. But he felt no urge to try.

Mikael was standing in the middle of the floor without really knowing what to do with himself. He took a few steps and then stood still again. The girl said nothing.

‘Let’s get it over and done with,’ she thought.

A few minutes passed by. Mikael understood that he couldn’t expect any help from Anette. He was the one who would have to take the initiative. But how? He was furious at her, at his foster parents and at himself because he had agreed to this like a sheep that just follows the flock. Then he blurted out:

“The problem is that we haven’t had a chance to talk with one another.”

His words hung like icicles in the room.

“Yes,” she whispered, clutching the handkerchief she had been holding in her hand the whole day.

‘But would that have helped?’ she wondered. Men are not interested in talking with women. She certainly knew that. They have only one thing on their mind.

He flopped despondently in a chair next to hers. “Well, then, let’s talk now!”

A tiny flicker of disbelief and relief could be detected in her chalk-white face. “About what? What would you like to know?”

Mikael was still angry. “First and foremost, would you prefer me to leave? Would you rather be on your own tonight?”

She started. This was something she hadn’t expected.

‘What does he want?’ she thought. But it was difficult to interpret anything from the serious expression on his face. Was he irritated? What had she done wrong? She was trembling with fear.

“No. You’re welcome to stay here,” she answered flatly. “If you want to.”

He did not say anything to that. “Then we’ll continue our conversation. Why did you agree to this ... arrangement?”

She looked up, frightened by the passion in his voice.

“Well, surely that goes without saying? I had no choice!”

“Well, thank you!” said Mikael ironically.

“No, oh dear. I didn’t it mean it in that way-”

“I understand. You don’t have to explain. I could say the same about myself.” Those words made her eyes open wide. They were like deep, deep wells. Mikael had never seen anybody look so wounded. He was touched. He bent forward to take her hands but merely got hold of her handkerchief, throwing it on the floor with a controlled curse. She tried to pull back her hands but he had gripped them.

“Anette,” he began, trying to sound kind but could sense how stiff his smile must have seemed to her. “Anette, if we’re to get through this, we have to be honest and sincere with one another.”

“But you said-” she whispered.

“I know perfectly well what I said. I said that this was something I had wanted for a long time.”

“So that’s not the truth after all?”

He was about to say, “I hardly know who you are” but when he saw how she tensed because she feared the words that were about to come, his heart melted, and he could not bring himself to tell the truth to her face.

“Yes, it was in some way,” he lied, seeing the relief in her face. It warmed his charitable soul. “I suppose I dreamed of finding a girl that I could share my life with sometime in the future. And I’d seen you – caught a glimpse of you and I thought to myself, ‘This petite girl... she might be one I’d consider. I wonder what lies behind her devout and somewhat coy appearance.’ But those are the only feelings I have for you.”

She lowered her head so that her veil fell forward and covered her temples.

“And you?” continued Mikael. “What do you make of me?”

“I...”

“Now please be honest! Hypocrisy won’t get us anywhere.”

And those words came from him?! He felt ashamed.

‘Honestly?’ she thought. ‘You’re a monster in a human body, with greedy fingers that want to grab me, lecherously and longingly!’

“I think you’re a handsome young man,” she said flatly.

‘Had that sounded slightly shameless?’ she wondered. ‘Perhaps too brash?’

“So you don’t harbour... any special feelings for me?” he asked.

‘Special? What did he mean by that? Immoral feelings? No, that was probably not what he meant.

She held his gaze for a moment. His eyes were beautiful, far too beautiful!

“No,” she whispered, ashamed.

“Well, now at least we know where we stand. Is there someone else you’re fond of, perhaps?”

“No, certainly not!”

“Nor me. So we’ll have to make the most of it, Anette. We’re not the first ones in history who’ve been mated by outsiders.”

The word ‘mated’ made her shudder, but she pulled herself together. “I’ve also been thinking about that,” she said in a slightly childish intonation. “About what others have felt and thought.”

“Finally, you’re showing a bit of your personality, Anette. Otherwise you seem completely nondescript.”

She nodded. She didn’t dare to look at his strong shoulders and his attractive mouth.

“Do you have regrets?” he said.

Anette twisted in her seat. After a nervous hesitation, she said, “Regrets? We aren’t the ones who are responsible for what’s happened. I’m trembling because I don’t know you. But when I think of the alternative...” She pulled herself together. “I know very well what’s expected of me tonight, and I’m ready for it. We must place everything in the hands of the Holy Mother of God. Do you have regrets?”

“I don’t know,” answered Mikael as he let go of her hands. He got up and walked over to the window. Outside in the darkness of night, he could see glimmers of light here and there on the Brunkeberg Ridge, and a few oil lamps shone from some boats on the Strömmen.

“I don’t know, Anette. You’re right, this wasn’t our own idea – it was decided for us. But we both went ahead with the plan, didn’t we. Do I have regrets? I can’t feel them. You see, I’ve never really known what to do with my life. I live in a kind of haze, letting others steer me. Something is really wrong with my life but I don’t know what it is. I have a good life. A very good life, I often think to myself. I need to fight, confront obstacles, do something for a world that is suffering. I need to be challenged before I reach my goal, whatever that is. But everything’s been settled for me. Now my foster father wants to give us a house as a gift without my having done anything to deserve it. Everything functions without me having to work for it... And my foster father wants me to go to war. He wants to pave the way for me so that I can rise in the ranks. I don’t want that at all. But do I even dream of protesting? Do I object? Oh dear no. I have always been considerate, Anette. Throughout my whole life, I have considered others, tried not to hurt others. Especially my foster parents – I owe them immense gratitude.”