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“I would be honored?” I said, hating that it came out sounding like a question.

Tautropfen held out her hand, escorting me onto the dance floor. As with her sister, I felt I was partnering her just to show off her skill and not mine. I didn’t mind, though, because it was still fun for me. The music was something simple, with just the harpsichord and cello, but as slow and stately as her sister’s dance had been.

After a few rounds, Tautropfen said, “Your brother seems to think his name gives him rights he doesn’t deserve.”

She twirled away as she said that, and it was a couple of seconds before she moved back to me. I wondered if I looked as confused as I felt. This wasn’t a conversation I thought I should be having. I was living in a different glass house than my brother, so I couldn’t really throw stones. And it also seemed I was having the same conversation as my last dance, just with a different sister. Rik was a jerk. But I was a confused mess, so I didn’t think I was better.

“‘Rik’ means ruler in some languages,” she continued. “And he thinks he has the privileges of one who rules,” she finished scornfully. “But that might be a delusion from all the alcohol he has consumed.”

“I….”

Rik had been drinking since he’d arrived at the party, acting like someone was going to take it away from him. I was beginning to think my brother had a problem with alcohol.

“And a woman who doesn’t fawn over him or fall into his hand like a ripe plum is vilified,” Tautropfen sneered delicately. “He’s more fox than ruler.”

I frowned for a second before I understood the reference. “Sour grapes?” I guessed.

Aesop’s fable about the fox and the grapes too far out of his reach to eat. It did describe my brother very well. What Rik couldn’t get was immediately considered trash, because it wasn’t his.

Tautropfen smiled back at me. “You are wise.” Her smile faded. “Do not let him go beyond dismissing that which he can’t claim.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, wondering why we were having this conversation.

She seemed to know that my brother liked to break my things, which was unnerving. But what was she hinting at now? Rik was going to destroy the presents he had brought Uncle Yvo? At his age he should be beyond such childishness, but I knew my brother hadn’t grown up, at least in that way. Rik claimed it made him a better businessman. I thought it was just more of his jerkish habits. But if Yvo gave me a present that Rik thought should have been his, things would get awkward, since we had driven out here together. This place was so isolated, I couldn’t grab a cab back to the city. I had been an idiot to give Rik that much power over me.

“Rik does not like to be denied anything,” she cautioned me. “Women… or anything he thinks should be his.”

I wondered what she was warning me about, but the music ended. I wasn’t surprised to see we too had become the lone couple dancing. I bowed to her with a smile. Cryptic conversations with strange women seemed to be something out of a spy or fantasy novel, not a Christmas Eve party.

We walked back to Yvo and Geflimmer. The women smiled at each other, looking like cats who had gotten into the butter, the cream, and also had an odd bird or two.

Rik appeared to have wandered off to find another drink or someone else to torment, which made me breathe easier.

“Thijs is a delightful dancer,” Geflimmer said.

“Very polite,” Tautropfen added.

“A tribute to your house,” they chimed as one.

I thought that was eerie and wondered if getting a drink wouldn’t be a good idea. I was thirsty. But I also wanted to wait a bit longer before drinking, because I hadn’t really eaten all day. My stomach had been in knots from nerves, but it had relaxed now that Rik had found other people to talk at.

This party wasn’t scary, although I had thought it would be. It was strange with all the eccentrically dressed people, many of whom acted like I should know them, but it wasn’t the thing I had dreaded since my uncle had asked me to be here. I had danced and was making acquaintances with people here again, even if I didn’t know them at the beginning.

“I think I need something to eat,” I told Yvo, deciding retreat was better than standing there looking confused. “May I get you anything?”

Yvo shook his head. “I’m fine. We’ll be eating later.”

I impulsively bowed my farewell to all of them, with a sweep of my hand and a tilting of an imaginary hat. They returned my gesture with equal formality, and I felt a piece inside of me click into place. I was enjoying the party and wished it would go on forever.

I strolled over to the buffet table. On my way there, my path was blocked by the older woman. She was the one who had intercepted Rik, and in almost the same place. I smiled at her and bowed. She curtsied deeply, and for a panicked second, I thought she wouldn’t be able to get up due to her weight and the breadth of her skirts. I knew I didn’t have enough muscle to haul her back up.

“I’m Ginger,” she introduced herself as soon as she regained her balance.

The woman’s voice was husky, almost as deep as a man’s, and she had brassy blonde hair, obviously dyed and curled elaborately. She was handsome, with the air of a grandmother who stuffed her grandchildren full of sweets, hyped them up, and then sent them back to their parents. Afterward she would settle down with a shot or two of whiskey, chuckling at what she had done.

“I’m Thijs,” I said, smiling at her.

“Your uncle speaks of you much,” she said, returning my smile. “Would you escort an old lady to dinner?”

I shook my head, a mock frown on my face. “No. But I’ll escort you.”

She laughed at that, her whole body shaking. I thought she had a corset on mainly to hold the weight of her skirt, rather than to slim down her waist.

“You haven’t changed,” she crowed. “I would offer you my arm, but I doubt you can get near it with these skirts.”

“Then why wear them?”

Ginger chuckled. “They make me look skinny.”

“Skinny is for vapid models,” I said.

I was skinny without working at it, so I was lucky. And I wasn’t part of the craziness that was gay nightlife in the big city. A nightlife that was filled with skinny things trying to get laid or find a sugar daddy or something, according to all the romance books I had read over the years. I was ecstatic that I lived in the booming time of male romance and gay porn—it kept me from having to read the het stuff for my romance addiction. For me, a book was better than the bar scene anytime. I wanted the happily ever after, not a one-night stand. I had never met any man who would agree with me on that, which was why I was single and spending a small fortune on gay romance novels.

“You’re such a sweet child,” Ginger cooed. She leaned over to pinch my cheek, but she suddenly swayed and then jerked back, finding her balance again before she could pinch me.

“Why don’t I take you to a table and then get us both food from the buffet?” I asked her.

“I think that’s a good idea,” she said, shifting to get better balance for a second or two.

Ginger led me into the conservatory, which had been set up as a dining room for tonight. I eased her into a seat, watching in amusement as Ginger adjusted the hoops of her skirt so she could sit down without them flying up and showing the entire party her granny panties.

“You used to hide underneath them when you were younger,” she announced, tilting her head back, studying me.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember,” I murmured regretfully.

Ginger just shook her head. “You were always so happy,” she said wistfully.

“You know, I could probably hide under there now too,” I teased her, wanting to make her happy. I knew
I
wasn’t happy now. But I was having fun here, and this was turning out not to be a disaster as I had thought it would be.

“You wouldn’t know what to do underneath a woman’s skirt with a map, a flashlight, and a GPS,” Rik said scornfully, and unexpectedly, off to our right side. Almost instantaneously, there went feeling good.

I flushed bright red, and Ginger got a hard look in her eyes.

“And the same could be said of you, young man,” she drawled, with a hard edge to her voice, pitched to carry to the entire conservatory. She paused. “And don’t think you can bully anyone here.”

She stood up gracefully and stalked out of the room. I was aware that everyone was watching the scene, and I wanted to scurry after her and dive under her skirts to get away from all those staring eyes. But they were condemning Rik more than me, so while I was getting butterflies in my stomach, they weren’t trying to fly out of it.

“How the hell can you stand it?” Rik demanded. “That old hag looked like a fag in drag.” He chuckled, trying to make it sound like he was the funniest man in the world. “That’s probably why you got along with the old bag so well.”

I bit my lip and then tossed caution to the wind. I’d figure out some other way home. “Stop being rude to Uncle Yvo’s guests.”

“They’re freaks,” Rik snapped. “Just like you. None of these people are worth talking to.”

“You know, Mom and Dad would be so sad and disappointed about that attitude,” I said quietly.

Rik was mad that none of the women would dance or even talk with him, and he was taking it out on me. And as the evening had worn on, Rik seemed to have been snubbed more and more by everyone, not just the ladies. Rik had had some sort of agenda tonight, which was the only reason he had come. But it wasn’t working out, so Rik was drinking heavily and letting more and more of his less charming side out.

“I was happy not to come here anymore when it turned out you were going to be as big a weirdo as Yvo is.”

“Uncle Yvo,” I corrected him sharply.

“He isn’t related to us,” Rik said, as if he were explaining something to a particularly slow pet.

“And yet our parents always told us to call him Uncle,” I shot back. “They respected him, no matter what happened, and I think you should also.”

Did they know something was magical about Christmas here, and that was why they had come every year? Rik hadn’t been in the car that day because he hadn’t wanted to stay the entire time and had left just after dinner on Christmas Day.

“I’m just here because I thought I might be able to make some contacts,” Rik snapped. “I have no intention of walking down memory lane with the two of you.” Rik barked out a laugh. “Yvo, at least. You have more holes in your mind than swiss cheese, so it wouldn’t be a long walk for you.”

I shrugged and moved away. Rik tossed that insult at me as often as he could. He reached out and grabbed my arm, tightening his fingers around my wrist painfully. “I’m not done talking to you,” he snarled.

“You’re making a scene,” I said softly. I was pretty sure I was going to have bruising in the morning. Hopefully it would fade before I got home. “And you never know who knows who in here. This isn’t just a family party.”

I was hoping I could appeal to Rik’s business sense and get out of here without a fight. It would happen later, I had no doubt of that, but right now, I wanted to not fight. I just wanted to capture some Christmas magic from all the Christmases I’d had here before, even if I didn’t remember them. Rik gave my wrist one more painful squeeze before he let go.

“We’re going to talk about this later,” Rik said softly, threateningly.

I nodded, his words making my stomach churn, and moved away, resisting the urge to rub my wrist. Rik stared at me for a second and then stalked out of the ballroom and into the main house.

There was a sound behind me, and I was suddenly aware the music had stopped. I sensed that Rik and I had been the center of attention. I turned to see the Königin sisters behind me, glaring at Rik as he left.

“Does he do this kind of thing often?” Geflimmer asked

“And why do you—” Tautropfen started.

“There is a reason I don’t live with him,” I said flatly. “But he’s my brother. Aside from Uncle Yvo, he’s the only family I have. I think we have cousins scattered here and there, but I haven’t kept in touch with them since our parents’ deaths.”

The sisters looked at each other.

“While family is important—” Tautropfen started.

“—you also need to live your own life,” Geflimmer finished. “Safely. He isn’t family if he abuses you. Don’t let him hold you back.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I said. Having total strangers tell me to stay away from Rik was weird. Rik was my brother, and family was important. And while I didn’t mind being lonely, I didn’t want to be alone. Walking away from Rik would mean I didn’t have a family anymore.

Before the sisters could say anything else, Ginger floated over to us.

“He promised me dinner,” she told them with a deep curtsy. She wobbled a little but managed to stand up on her own. “Thank you for rescuing him,” she sighed. “I’m not good at dealing with adults. Even adults who are acting like bratty children.”

“Take good care of him,” Geflimmer said.

I waved good-bye to the two of them as Ginger escorted me to the buffet.

T
HE
PARTY
was over, all the guests were gone, and it was just family now.

“I don’t know if you remember him?” Yvo asked as he carefully lifted a nutcracker from the chair it was on. He handled it carefully, like it was alive.

“I do,” I smiled. “We slept together a lot of Christmas Eves.”

The nutcracker had an oversized jaw, odd jade eyes, and metallic white wire hair pulled back into a rough queue. He was dressed in an odd outfit of black harem pants and a blue-and-gold brocade jacket that fell to his knees, with a curved sword by his side. There was the faint hint of a beard on his face. He was so ugly he could be considered beautiful.

I had seen the object years before, always placed prominently, showing how much Uncle Yvo valued him. The piece had always fascinated me, and I had spent a lot of time looking at him as well as the tree. Those memories were the clearest ones I had of the holiday, even if they were fuzzy.

Rik looked over at us, barely hiding the disgust on his face. “Not that old thing again,” he mocked Yvo.