Affairs of Antiquity PV - Stelle Mims

She woke to the pale winter light filtering through the curtains and lay under the covers for a few minutes, listening to the muffled sounds of the house while trying to remember what day it was. That was the thing about the holidays: after several mornings without a schedule, the days began to blur together, and getting up early seemed pointless. Until she remembered Christmas.

That was enough to get her out of bed. She went downstairs, her hair still a bit tousled, and found her family busy with preparations. Open boxes sat in various corners, ribbons lay on a table, and there were decorations that had been stored away for years, waiting to take their places once more. Stelle paused in front of one of the boxes and began taking out ornaments, listening distractedly to the adults' conversations. At some point, her grandmother decided she was the right person for a task of considerable importance: choosing how to finish decorating the house that year.

Stelle accepted with a seriousness the responsibility perhaps didn't warrant, yet one she was perfectly willing to give it. Her grandmother must have woken up in a good mood, as she didn't usually assign such important tasks. She spent much of the morning moving from room to room, comparing ornaments, shifting items around, and putting things back where they had been, having decided, after studying them for a few minutes, that they looked better in their original spots. She wasn't aiming for a perfectly coordinated look. She liked the decor to reflect the family's history: vintage ornaments alongside newer ones, small imperfections, and objects whose origins no one could quite recall anymore.

By midday, Stelle had the decoration logbook spread out on the table, a system her grandmother had used for years to speed things up. They were books organized by event type, filled with pages of photographs and samples of decorations, colors, ribbons, everything needed for a proper event. She sat there over lunch, wearing a look of absolute concentration as she tried to choose between two virtually identical ornaments.

She didn't seem to mind that someone might think she was spending an absurd amount of time on such a small decision. She enjoyed doing it. The house felt different during those days, too. There was a certain warmth in the rooms, even before all the lights were fully turned on, and Stelle especially loved that moment when a house stopped looking like just a house and began to feel ready to welcome guests.

That was when her grandfather reminded her that they were expecting a visitor that afternoon. Stelle knew it was a meeting regarding one of the antiques Trud had been preparing for sale. It wasn't unusual for buyers to travel to see his pieces. Her grandfather could spend weeks talking about a relic, researching its provenance, debating its value, and finally arranging a meeting as if he were negotiating an international treaty. This time, however, there was a difference. The buyer was coming all the way from Finland. That alone was enough to pique Stelle’s curiosity.

She didn't ask too many questions. Her grandfather had a habit of turning any explanation about an antique into a half-hour lecture, and she had heard enough stories about pieces from the last century to know when to let him talk and when it was best to slip away before getting trapped in a conversation about restoration. So, she went back to her decorations.

Nooky, the household elf, bustled past to open the door, assuring her grandmother that everything would go smoothly. In truth, she had always thought that if Nooky weren't an elf, he would make a wonderful friend for her grandmother. And her grandmother certainly needed one. She was just finishing up the last detail in her notebook when her grandmother called out to her, noting that she wasn't ready yet. She quickly headed up to her room, puzzled as to why they wanted her there.

But upon reaching the stairs and hearing the door open, she froze for a few seconds. From her vantage point, she watched the door swing open as a woman entered first, accompanied by a young man. She didn't know them, or at least, looking from a distance, she didn't recall ever seeing them there before. Her gaze swept briefly over the woman before settling on the boy. There was something about his expression that was hard to read; he didn't look exactly thrilled to be there. That, naturally, only piqued her curiosity further. Still, feeling her grandmother’s gaze upon her, she quickly hurried up the flight of stairs. Mipsy, the house-elf she’d been assigned because "every time you comb your hair yourself, it looks like you’ve fought a bird", tended to her hair while she put on the jewelry set her grandfather had given her for such occasions. She smiled faintly at her reflection, adjusting a few loose curls that framed her updo, and gave Arwen a small treat before heading downstairs.

As she approached the drawing room, she could hear her grandfather’s voice welcoming the guests with that old-fashioned courtesy he reserved for business matters. There was a distinct shift in his tone when dealing with fellow collectors: he remained polite, yet every word seemed carefully chosen. Having no intention of interrupting the meeting, she cautiously approached the doorway. The first person she recognized was a woman who appeared to be there for the antique piece. Then, behind her, a young man appeared. He didn't look particularly excited to be there.

While her grandfather conversed with the woman, Stelle studied the boy for a few moments, trying to decide if he looked bored, tired, or simply uninterested in the meeting. Probably all three. Then, Trud noticed her.

"Stelle, come here. I’d like to introduce you to our guests." She approached unhurriedly, absentmindedly smoothing her skirt before reaching her grandfather's side. Trud smiled with evident satisfaction.

"This is Mrs. Ainikki, correct me if I’ve mispronounced it, and her son. They’ve come to see the piece I told you about this morning. This is Stelle, my only granddaughter and, God willing, my heir." Stelle nodded politely. Now she understood who they were, and why the boy wore that pression. A meeting about antiques during Christmas break probably didn't rank high on the list of favorite activities for anyone her age. "Hello" Stelle said. Her gaze briefly met the boy's before her grandmother gave a soft, pointed cough.

"Why don't you show young Ikonen around the house? I'm sure you'll find something to do." The woman made the suggestion, and although Stelle wasn't sure it would help matters, she knew her grandmother well enough to realize it was more of an order than a suggestion. She nodded quickly and turned back toward the doorway, looking at the boy with a faint smile. "Would you like to come with me? There are... plenty of rooms that are more interesting than this one."

English ‡Veela ‡ Russian ‡ Scottish Gaelic @Kullervo Ikonen

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