Viktoria
896 Words
"Viktoria."
She heard her name from across the garden and looked up from the book in her hands.
Her grandfather was standing beneath the old oak tree, holding a walking stick in one hand and looking at her with the same patient expression he always wore whenever he came looking for her.
She smiled.
"I'm coming."
"You've been saying that for the past ten minutes."
"I was reading."
"You have been reading the same page for ten minutes."
Viktoria closed the book.
"Maybe the page is very interesting."
Her grandfather laughed.
"Or maybe you have been staring at it without reading a single word."
She got up and walked toward him.
The Draven estate was unusually quiet that afternoon. Most of the household staff were inside preparing for dinner, while the security team kept their usual distance around the property.
Viktoria had always liked the garden.
It was one of the few places in the estate where she could forget that every room inside belonged to a family with too many rules.
Her grandfather waited until she reached him before turning toward the house.
"Come. Your father wants everyone at dinner tonight."
Viktoria made a face.
"Does he?"
"He does."
"Then I don't want to go."
Her grandfather shook his head.
"You cannot avoid your family forever."
"I can try."
"You are twenty years old, Viktoria. You should learn when to choose your battles."
She looked at him.
"Isn't that what you've been teaching me?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm choosing this one."
He laughed again.
"You're becoming too clever for your own good."
"You taught me."
"And now I regret it."
She smiled.
For a moment, there was nothing complicated between them.
No throne.
No family politics.
No expectations.
Just a grandfather and his granddaughter walking slowly through the garden.
Viktoria had always been closest to him.
She didn't remember much about her mother. Her mother had died the day she was born, leaving Viktoria with only a few photographs and stories that never seemed to contain enough details.
Her father had never been affectionate toward her.
But her grandfather had been different.
He had never treated her like the mistake her father believed she was.
When she was little, he was the one who carried her around the estate.
When she started school, he was the one who waited for her after lessons.
When she began asking questions about the Draven family, he was the one who answered them instead of telling her that certain things were not meant for girls.
And when she asked him why her name was Viktoria, he gave her an answer she never forgot.
"You gave me that name," she had said when she was younger.
"Of course."
"Why?"
He had smiled.
"Because I wanted you to remember that victory doesn't belong to men."
She had frowned, not completely understanding.
He continued.
"One day, people will tell you that you cannot do something because you are a woman."
"Then I'll prove them wrong."
Her grandfather had smiled.
"Exactly."
Now, years later, those words still stayed with her.
They reached the veranda.
Her grandfather stopped before going inside.
"There's something I want to give you."
Viktoria looked at him curiously.
"What?"
He reached into his jacket and brought out a small velvet box.
Her eyes widened.
"What is that?"
"Open it."
She took the box from him and lifted the lid.
Inside was a delicate silver necklace.
At the center was a small pendant shaped like a crown.
Viktoria looked at it for a few seconds.
"It's beautiful."
"It belonged to your grandmother."
She looked up.
"Really?"
He nodded.
"I kept it for you."
"Why now?"
"Because you're twenty."
She smiled.
"That's not a good enough reason."
"Maybe not."
He gently took the necklace from the box.
"Turn around."
She did.
He placed it around her neck and fastened it.
When she turned back, he looked at the pendant for a moment.
Then he looked at her.
"Never forget who you are, Viktoria."
She touched the crown pendant.
"I'm a Draven."
"More than that."
She waited.
He smiled.
"You're the girl I named Viktoria."
She laughed softly.
"That's the same thing."
"No."
His voice became quieter.
"One day, you'll understand."
Before she could ask what he meant, a voice came from the doorway.
"Father."
They both turned.
Her father stood there.
His expression was unreadable.
"Dinner is ready."
Her grandfather nodded.
"We're coming."
Her father looked at Viktoria.
His eyes moved briefly to the necklace around her neck.
Something changed in his expression.
It was gone almost immediately.
"Make sure she comes inside," he said before walking away.
Viktoria watched him leave.
Then she looked at her grandfather.
"Does he ever smile?"
Her grandfather sighed.
"Your father has many problems."
"That's one of them."
He chuckled.
"Come on."
She followed him inside.
She didn't know that this would become one of the memories she would hold onto for the rest of her life.
She didn't know that five years from now, she would remember the sound of his laughter more clearly than she remembered the sound of her own.
And she certainly didn't know that the little silver crown around her neck would become the last gift he ever gave her.
For now, she was simply Viktoria.
His granddaughter.
His pride.
And the girl he believed could one day wear a crown.
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