The Duke's Imposter Sister

Chapter 10 – Yuliana’s Grandmother (2)

Stephan’s face showed his surprise. He hadn’t expected his grandmother to have a one on one conversation with the girl. Gris was also astonished by the grandmother’s request and stood up too.

She was in the Byrenhag domain with their matriarch, who almost singlehandedly made the family survive through famine and war.  Gris felt faint and wasn’t sure her legs would hold her up.

“But Grandmother…”

Stephan furrowed his brows to show his displeasure.  This wasn’t the way he had orchestrated the meeting, and he wasn’t pleased. Seeing his reaction, Paola Byrenhag replied sternly.

“Step outside.”

Stephan reluctantly obeyed and shot Gris a parting look as he left the room.

It was only a matter of time before Paola figured out that this girl was not Yuliana. Tricking Paola Byrenhag had been a fool’s errand from the beginning. Gris hoped that the interview would finish quickly and dropped her eyes towards the floor.

Stephan left the room, and Paola moved slowly to the windowsill. Absent-mindedly picking up a vase from the side table to her writing desk, she then sat in the bay window.

Gris involuntarily flinched when she felt Paola’s eyes looking at her intently. Gris hadn’t worn a pretty dress or been in the company of an aristocrat for such a long time, that she felt self-conscious. She didn’t know what to do with her hands and fidgeted with her dress.

Minutes passed while the two stood in front of one another. Paola stroked the sculpted wood panel in the windowsill and mumbled to herself.

“How extraordinary. You really do resemble Yuliana, don’t you?”

Gris couldn’t decipher the true meaning of her words. Did she mean she really looked like young Yuliana, or was it extraordinary because she knew Gris wasn’t her granddaughter?

Gris wanted to study Paola’s face but didn’t dare lift her head and look directly at her. Paola watched her body tremble with nervousness and finally said,

“Step forward, won’t you?”

It took more than ten steps for Gris to walk up to Paola from the sofa to the windowsill. Gris was so anxious she was unsteady on her feet and nearly tripped over the antique globe.

Although Gris fixed her gaze on the maroon table, she could see Paola’s chin in the periphery of her vision. Her face was covered with wrinkles, from age but also from neglect and perhaps loneliness and sadness. The loss of her granddaughter and dearest companion must have caused more grief than she had imagined.

“Look at my eyes.”

Her voice was calmer, and Gris slowly raised her eyes. A face with a pair of pale lips and wrinkled eyes and a sharp nose stared straight back.

She didn’t look as old as Gris had expected. She had short silver hair and looked as if she was in her sixties, and the dark rose, pink dress she wore made her look graceful and elegant. But her skin had lost elasticity and made her skinny body look even bonier.

Gris had a flashback and realized that the grief she experienced over the loss of her family would have been very similar to what Paola would have endured. Gris had spent her nights crying over her dead grandmother. She imagined Paola crying over her lost granddaughter.

Almost in tears, Gris clasped her hands together tightly to prevent herself from shaking. Paola watched her becoming emotional and suddenly asked,

“What do you like to eat?”

Gris imagined Paola already knew what Yuliana liked to eat. But Gris didn’t have the energy to try to guess what Yuliana’s favorite food could have been. She could only think about the warm walnut pie she loved to share with her grandmother when she was young.

“I like walnut pies,” Gris replied.

“Walnut pies?” Paola nodded her head as if this was the answer she had expected to hear.

Gris had forgotten about Paola and Yuliana and thought back to her previous life and her favorite moments with her grandmother. Walnut pies were a festive snack among the aristocracy. Did Yuliana like walnut pies, too?

“…Yes.”

Now it was Paola who looked as if she was reminiscing about Yuliana…

“Do you have any scars I would recognize?” Paola asked.

Gris wasn’t Yuliana and so wanted to say she didn’t know if the latter had any scars. But she was scared that Stephan might hurt her, so she was going to make a guess.

“No. I don’t have any scars,” said Gris. But her eyes said otherwise. She looked into Paola’s eyes and tried to send the message that she wasn’t Yuliana and that her son was setting her up. If Paola was the kind of tactician described in the rumors, then she should understand the message Gris was desperately trying to deliver.

Paola squinted as she watched the girl’s trembling eyes.

“What a funny little girl you are,” Paola mumbled to herself.

Gris wanted to know what she meant. Was her intention literal or figurative? Did she mean strange? Gris watched Paola rub her own wrinkled cheeks and laugh.

“I have no idea either, to be honest. It’s been such a long time. I can’t really remember if Yuliana had any scars.”

“…”

“But looking at you, I am a bit confused. Did Yuliana really go missing? If that is true, then why is she showing herself now?”

At that moment, Gris understood Paola Byrenhag was a grandmother who had issues remembering things herself.  Paola wasn’t a cunning tactician trying to catch out Gris and label her an imposter.

Just as quickly, Paola’s grin vanished.

“I don’t think you are Yuliana. But it may not be a bad idea to keep you around. This could must be the creator’s will.

Paola’s hazy green eyes became more lucid and shined with a mysterious sparkle.

“Why don’t you go and get some rest?”