Chapter 48: Father’s Day, Part 2
“I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father’s protection.”—Sigmund Freud
As Markus opened the doors to the living room, Eric could see Appius, already glaring in his direction. It was the welcome he’d learned to expect from his father. Eric tensed as he heard Markus close the doors behind him.
“Why didn’t you come with Pam in the car I sent?” Appius asked accusingly, by way of greeting. “You made Sophie-Anne nervous that you wouldn’t arrive on time,” he added critically.
Eric glanced at his watch, which read 10:05. He’d been asked by Sophie-Anne to arrive between 10:00 and 10:30—as brunch was scheduled for 11:00.
Eric ignored Appius’s words. “Good morning, Father,” he said formally as he stepped forward slightly and reached out to hand Appius the beautifully wrapped gift he’d brought. “Happy Father’s Day.”
Appius looked at the gift as if it were a soiled diaper, so Eric lowered his hand and stepped back. He looked around the opulent living room and was surprised to see that he and Appius were alone. “Where are the others?” he asked, trying to hide his apprehension.
Appius answered by silently glaring at Eric, who set the present down on a table that held several already unwrapped packages. Eric knew that the package he’d brought would not be opened; his gift never was. But he no longer felt the sting at that fact.
Eric had brought the same gift to his father since he was twenty-one. It was a pen that had been part of Eric’s inheritance from his paternal grandfather. Eric had found the item in a safety deposit box that he’d been left by John Northman. The pen and a letter sharing its significance to the Northman family were the only items in the box.
The pen had been used by the first Northman in America to ink a deal he’d made with Cornelius Vanderbilt, the infamous robber baron and railroad mogul. That deal had begun the prominence of the Northman family in New York. The pen itself was made of ivory and silver, and it had a beautifully etched metal point. In fact, according to the specialist to whom Eric had taken the pen so that it could be restored to working condition, the antique was likely one of the first steel-point pens ever made.
It had been given to their ancestor—who happened to be Eric’s namesake—by Vanderbilt, whose initials were engraved into the silver. As would be expected, the pen was worth a lot of money. After he’d had it restored, Eric had spent some of his summer trip to Sweden in his morfar’s old workshop, making an olivewood case for the pen and the letter.
From the first moment he’d seen the pen, Eric felt that it should belong to Appius for a variety of reasons—not the least of which was that his father collected pens. During his many meetings with his father, Eric had noticed several antique pens displayed prominently in his office. Eric had figured that the pen was the one thing that he could give Appius that he would truly value. In fact, Eric had been surprised that his grandfather John had left the item to him and not to his father. He still wondered why that had been the case.
Eric had first tried to give Appius the pen more than ten years before—the Christmas when Eric was 21, the first one after he’d gotten his inheritance. Eric had watched for his father’s reaction with great anticipation. But the gift had been left unopened. Later that day, Eric had been summoned to Appius’s office, where the gift lay in the trash, still unopened. In fact, the trashcan had been moved so that Eric could clearly see what his offering meant to Appius.
Eric had thought about taking the gift out of the trash and telling Appius what it was, but he’d not been able to make himself speak. Instead, he’d sat stoically through that year’s critique from Appius. Eric had later asked Markus to retrieve the gift out of the trash. He told Markus what was in the box and let the butler know that he could give it to Appius or even sell it if he wanted.
However, a couple of days later, the unopened gift had arrived at the small house Eric was renting near Harvard. Markus had sent it back to him. Since then, every time that Eric had to attend a function that required a gift, he would bring the pen. Each time, he would have it re-wrapped and looking perfect. And each time, it would arrive back to him—unopened. However, Eric couldn’t bring himself to stop trying, nor could he bring himself to tell his father what was in the box. Perhaps it was a kind of self-imposed torture. Eric was self-aware enough to recognize that he hoped that—if it were ever opened—the item would buy a little of his father’s affection.
Of course, Eric had not received a gift from his father since the clothing. However, that didn’t really matter to Eric—at least not anymore. Somehow the fact that Appius wouldn’t accept his gift mattered a lot more.
Appius’s harsh voice drew Eric out of his musings.
“Sophie-Anne is showing the others the changes she has made to the north parlor and the pool room,” Appius said curtly. “I’m sure she would have been more than happy to show you as well—had you arrived on time. But now that you are here, I want to talk to you.”
Appius turned and went toward his office. Eric dutifully followed even though his skin crawled. Going into his father’s office brought up a lot of bad memories for him.
“Sit,” Appius said as if speaking to a dog.
Eric sat in the chair he always sat in, the one opposite his father’s larger, higher seat. Of course, now that Eric was a grown man—taller than even his father—the difference in chair size shouldn’t have mattered much. But Eric still felt like a small boy when he sat down in his father’s presence.
“I have not seen any new pictures of you and Isabel in the society pages for a while. You have not fucked that up—have you?” Appius snarled as he glared at Eric. “The Edgingtons are a powerful family, and you should do what you can to secure Isabel quickly, especially since you’ve already fucked up things with Freyda de Castro for some unknown fucking reason.”
Eric kept his voice even, and—knowing it would do no good anyway—he didn’t bother to comment on the fact that Freyda was crazy. “Isabel has been busy for a few weeks, but there is the charity auction coming up, and she plans to accompany me to that. You needn’t fear; I have done nothing to alienate her affections. I have several years before I must settle down, and Isabel is in favor of waiting the finalize matters as well.”
Appius narrowed his gaze. “Do not fuck up your chances of aligning this family with the Edgingtons as you did with the de Castros. It’s time that you work a little harder to secure Isabel. Sophie-Anne heard a rumor that the two of you were not seeing each other as much anymore.”
“As I said,” Eric returned, his tone still calm, “Isabel and I will be attending the charity event together. Working on the deal with China has cut into my available leisure time, but Isabel is understanding of my work and knows that it’s my priority. And she has had her own deadlines to deal with.”
Appius scoffed. “And that’s another thing. You know that I am displeased about the final deal you made with the Chinese. You completely disregarded the changes I suggested last Monday.”
It was all Eric could do to hold his father’s gaze. “As my latest report indicated, I was able to implement many of your suggestions, but a compromise was made to keep the deal from falling through. The profit margin will still be incredibly high.”
Appius looked at Eric with disappointment in his eyes. “You are soft when it comes to things like this, boy. I just hope you can get your shit together before you take over Northman Publishing.” Appius sighed dramatically. “Of course, I don’t hold out much hope for that. Appius, Jr. will be lucky if there’s a company left for him to take over, given the fact that I fully expect for you to run it into the ground. It is a pity that you didn’t inherit good business acumen from either side of your blood. I’m sure that your,” he paused and smirked, “morfar would agree.”
Eric’s fists clenched and his voice betrayed his distress, “Remember, Father, if I fail to keep the profit margins up, the contract allows you to take over; therefore, there’s no way I could run the company into the ground.”
“When,” Appius said with a smile, as he saw the evidence that he’d upset his eldest child, whom he still considered the tainted spawn of Stella. It was obvious that he relished in Eric’s discomfort. “Yes. When you fail. Of course, the contract also dictates that you marry properly. I don’t think I have to remind you of that—do I?”
“No,” Eric said through unopened lips.
Appius’s smiled devolved into a cruel glower. “Good. Sophie-Anne is counting on you. She wants another wedding to plan. Plus, she has it in her head that we must travel for six months after I retire. Then again—that might be enjoyable. I have rarely traveled for pleasure, and my son—Appius, Jr.—will be old enough to enjoy seeing the world by then.”
“I understand what my requirements are,” Eric said, his tone having returned to a neutral pitch, but his eyes still conveying hurt. “You needn’t worry about me fulfilling them.”
“I do worry,” Appius said with malice in his voice. “I must worry that you will fail—because you have never failed to disappoint me before.”
“I am certain that no success I have will ever hinder your disappointment in me, Father,” Eric said, his voice on edge again.
Appius glared at Eric coldly. “You would do well to remember respect, boy,” Appius snarled. “You would be nothing without me.”
Before Eric could reply, a knock at the door interrupted them, and a breezy Sophie-Anne entered. She either failed to recognize or chose to ignore the tension in the room.
“Oh—there you two are! Brunch is almost ready, darling. And Eric—don’t you look nice,” she added airily and without even really looking at him.
“Hello Sophie-Anne,” Eric said rising. “You look lovely.” And she did. Her white pantsuit and pearls were exactly the kind of thing a doting New York society wife should wear on Father’s Day.
“Oh—this little thing?” Sophie-Anne said gleefully, referring to her outfit. “It’s actually Pam’s doing. We found it when we went shopping together last week. And the pearls are from your father, of course,” she added, her smile somehow seeming both doting and disingenuous at the same time.
Eric nodding. Sophie-Anne’s invitation for the day had told him to dress casually, but he knew that there was nothing casual about any of Sophie-Anne’s little get-togethers, so he’d worn a tailored dark suit with a crisp white dress shirt. The only thing different about his current attire and his work attire was the lack of a tie.
Playing the dutiful stepson to the woman who was almost ten years younger than he was, Eric extended his arm to escort Sophie-Anne back to the living room, even as she prattled on about her next redecorating project—which was converting almost the entire “useless second floor” into a “dream playground” for Appius, Jr.
In truth, Eric didn’t mind Sophie-Anne, although he really didn’t care for her decorating tastes. She had made the house even more ornate since her arrival; however, Eric didn’t live there, so it didn’t much matter to him what she did. The changes in décor certainly showed Appius’s wealth, which seemed to be what Sophie-Anne—and Appius—wanted.
Once they entered the living room, quick and perfunctory greetings were shared between the older siblings. Alexei, of course, was not in attendance, and since Nora, Pam, and Eric saw each other almost daily, there was no need to make much fuss. To Eric’s delight, Gracie flew over to him from across the room and gave him a long hug as Eric swept her off the floor.
“Eric!” Gracie said. “Just wait till I tell you about my recital! I did so well in my practices that my instructor made up a solo—just for me! Can you believe it?”
“Of course I can! That’s terrific,” Eric said, putting her down. “And congratulations!”
“Thanks for my birthday present,” Gracie said, twirling around in the green sundress that Eric had sent her the month before.
“You look as pretty as a picture in it,” he winked down at his little sister.
“You’re still coming to my recital—right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Eric smiled.
“And you’re gonna take me to that restaurant we found last time you visited—right? Mommy doesn’t like Chinese food and never wants to take me,” she pouted a little.
Eric nodded. “Of course!”
Appius scrutinized the interaction between Eric and his youngest daughter with disapproval, but he said nothing, opting to move to the other side of the room with Andre. He’d made clear to Gracie’s mother, Tamara, many times that he disapproved of Eric playing any kind of role in Gracie’s life, but the obstinate woman would not acquiesce to his request. He couldn’t help but to be glad he’d divorced her and found a woman more pliable.
As Gracie skipped over to Pam and Nora, who were looking through some magazines, a woman dressed in a white uniform entered and had a quick word with Sophie-Anne. A slight frown on her face, Sophie-Anne announced that little Appius, Jr. was napping, but that the nanny would bring him down after brunch.
Eric walked over to the two women in the room that he’d yet to greet. Grace Northman looked to be holding court on one of the sofas, and Tamara, who had driven down for the day with Gracie, was nodding indulgently as her ex-mother-in-law gossiped about one of her “friend’s” husbands leaving her for a twenty-year-old.
Eric greeted both women as soon as Grace’s story was finished. As always, his paternal grandmother regarded him coldly.
“Eric, I’ve heard that you are focusing too much attention on you dealings with the Chinese,” Grace said critically. “Why not put your attention on Northman Publishing’s domestic affairs—as my John would have wanted?”
“Grandmother Northman,” Eric said formally with a little bow in her direction, “you look lovely.” He took a breath. “I’m sure that Father has told you that I oversee the international division of NP, so I have nothing to do with the domestic side.”
Grace scoffed. “It seems to me that you should be supporting your father’s endeavors—instead of becoming some kind of globe-trotting cavalier.”
Tamara—thankfully—interrupted Grace before she could really get going with her usual critique of Eric. “Eric,” she said, “Gracie told me that you would be able to come to her recital this Saturday. She’s excited to have her big brother there—you know,” she said with a sincere smile. “And feel free to stay overnight at the house if you want.”
“I wouldn’t miss the recital,” Eric smiled, though he felt a sudden jolt of regret that he wouldn’t be able to take Sookie to the event. “However, I cannot stay over. I’ll need to get back to prepare of the work-week,” Eric said, knowing that he wouldn’t want to miss a night in Sookie’s arms or their trip to the MET the next weekend.
“What recital?” Grace asked.
Tamara smiled at her ex-mother-in-law. “Remember—Gracie’s spring ballet recital? We sent you the invitation last month. You had to decline because of a garden party—if I remember correctly,” she added without judgment.
“Oh yes,” Grace said. “The Abbot party is this Saturday.” She looked up at Eric. “Why aren’t you and Isabel going to the Abbot party?” she asked with a narrowed glare.
Eric tried to retain his smile. It likely looked as fake as it felt. “I had already committed to Gracie’s recital,” he said.
Grace Northman scoffed at Eric but then turned a more conciliatory gaze to Tamara. “Obviously, we all love Gracie,” she said with a glance around the room to make sure that her youngest granddaughter was not within earshot, “however, the Abbot party is an important event on the social calendar. I’m certain that Gracie will understand that Eric will not be able to attend her recital.”
Eric tensed up immediately, sensing that his grandmother would try to push the issue. He wasn’t about to back down and disappoint Gracie—especially not for a vapid society party that he’d hate attending.
Tamara sighed and exchanged a look with Eric. Both of them understood well that Grace Northman prioritized her position in society over everything else—other than her son. However, Eric also knew that she was a good grandmother to Gracie, so he didn’t want to cause a stir while Gracie was in the room.
Sadly, a “stir” came upon them in the form of Appius.
“Mother,” Appius said, sitting next to Grace Northman and kissing her hand, “you look upset.”
“I just discovered that Eric is skipping the Abbot party to go to Boston this Saturday,” she reported as if it were the most unsettling news she’d ever heard.
“Well—I will be in Boston too, of course—for Gracie’s recital,” Appius said.
Grace looked shocked. “But Appius,” she said with a fake smile as if she were trying to prevent herself from seeming to disapprove of her son in public, “it’s the Abbots. And Jeffrey Abbot is currently choosing a new investment partner for his building project in Midtown across from Northman Tower. And I know that—in addition to you—Copley’s son is looking to get involved.”
Eric wasn’t surprised that his paternal grandmother was “in the know” when it came to important deals being struck among the most prominent New Yorkers. During the all-important society functions she lived for, she operated on her son’s behalf, and because of her influence, Appius often had inside information about the projects in which he was interested in investing.
“Of course,” Appius said easily. “That is why I have a meeting with Jeffrey Abbot this Wednesday. And I will be going to the Abbot party. Luckily, it’s early enough in the day that I won’t even have the leave the party that early in order to make it in time for Gracie’s solo performance—which was moved to the end of the recital to accommodate my schedule.”
Eric didn’t miss the fact that Appius was looking at Tamara with a little smirk.
“I wasn’t aware that Gracie’s solo had been pushed to the end of the performance,” Tamara said in a somewhat clipped tone.
“You’re taking the plane?” Grace asked her son, ignoring the tension between Appius and his ex-wife.
Appius nodded and then looked at Eric somewhat sinisterly. “Why don’t you and Isabel join us for the trip up? That way you won’t miss the Abbot party.”
Eric looked over at Gracie, who was laughing with Pam and Nora. He knew that Appius had overheard earlier that he’d promised to take Gracie to lunch before her recital. The look in Appius’s eyes when Eric looked back at him told him all he needed to know; Appius wanted Eric to disappoint Gracie. He knew that it would hurt Eric to do that, and Appius was always looking for ways to alienate Eric from his younger siblings.
“Father,” Eric began, “I believe you heard that I will be going to Boston early on Saturday in order to take Gracie to lunch to celebrate her recital.”
Grace scoffed and looked at Eric with disapproval.
“I’m sure that Gracie will understand—won’t she, Tamara?” Appius asked, though he was still looking right at Eric. “You will go to the Abbot party, Eric. Need I remind you of your family obligations—again?” he asked with a patronizing lilt to his voice.
“I have another family commitment,” Eric tried.
“No, Eric,” Appius said, his tone inviting no further discussion. “You had another commitment. Now you don’t. And you will bring Isabel—to both the Abbot party and the recital. It is high time that I got to know my future daughter-in-law better.”
Gracie chose that moment to bounce over to them, holding a beautiful hair barrette in her hand. “Look, Mom, Pam gave me this to wear to the recital! She said that she used to wear it for her recitals and that it brought her good luck!”
“It’s gorgeous!” Tamara said with a warm smile for her daughter. “Uh—we were all just discussing your recital,” she added a little nervously.
“I’ll be able to attend, after all, dear,” Grace Northman said. “We’re all coming up on your father’s plane after our function that day.”
Gracie smiled widely. “Cool!”
Appius glanced at Eric and then at his daughter. “Gracie, I’m afraid that Eric is going to have to disappoint you. He’d forgotten that he had to attend that day’s earlier function with us, so he is cancelling your lunch plans.”
Gracie immediately looked up at Eric with clear disappointment in her eyes.
Eric bent down so that he was eyelevel with her. Knowing that he couldn’t really challenge Appius without consequences, his tone was full of contrition. “Sorry, kiddo. Like Father said—I forgot. But can I make it up to you by coming up the Saturday after the recital? We’ll spend the day in Franklin Park and then go have some Chinese food—if you want.”
Some of the disappointment melted from Gracie’s eyes.
“You cannot do that either, Eric,” Appius said. “You have a meeting at NP that Saturday. Don’t you remember?”
“What meeting?” Eric asked, knowing that there had been no such meeting on his calendar the day before.
“It is with Neave and Lochlan to go over the contracts with China,” Appius said.
The disappointment was back in Gracie’s eyes.
Eric gave his youngest sister a sad smile. “The first Saturday I can make it then—okay, Gracie?” he asked.
“Okay.” The little girl nodded and went to lean into her mother’s side, her discontent clear. Tamara gave Eric a sympathetic smile.
“Really, Eric, you should be more aware of your own schedule than your father,” Grace said critically.
Eric could only force a smile and retreat. He knew that if he stayed there, Appius would likely come up with other ways to torment him. “Excuse me,” he said to the little group, “I just need to go speak with Nora and Pam about a quick business matter.” He looked at Gracie. “I really am excited about your recital, Gracie.”
He turned and closed his eyes tightly for a moment, feeling the sting of the disappointment he’d seen in his sister’s eyes, though not knowing a damned thing he could do about it. If he challenged his father, he knew that matters would be made worse. So he made his way over to Pam. Nora had—thankfully—drifted over to speak to Sophie-Anne.
“Why is Grandmother Grace looking at you like you have shit on your shoe?” Pam asked in a hushed voice when Eric joined her.
“I had to disappoint Gracie,” Eric said, though he knew that had nothing to do with his grandmother’s look of contempt. “I’d planned to take her to lunch on the day of her recital.”
“Yeah, she was telling Nora and me. She was excited. Why did you cancel?” Pam asked with a tinge of judgment in her tone.
“Father requires that I be at the Abbot party,” Eric said evenly.
“Oh—well. It’s better that you’re at the Abbots’ anyway. Old Jeffrey’s son—what’s his name?”
“Scott,” Eric answered.
“Right. Isn’t he a friend of yours?”
“We were a couple of years apart at Harvard,” Eric said. He decided not to mention that Scott Abbot was a pretentious prick in Eric’s opinion.
“Right. And Daddy’s trying to get that investment, so you can work on Scott.”
Eric nodded, although he knew that there was really nothing he could do to grease the wheels for his father’s deal. Truth be told, since Appius had a meeting with Jeffrey Abbot that Wednesday, the deal was likely already sealed.
Eric looked over his shoulder at his grandmother. She was still staring daggers at him. He sighed. Ever since he’d learned about his mother’s affair with Peder Lang, Eric had been certain that Appius had told Grace about the infidelity. Grandmother Northman—as Eric was required to call Grace—had never treated him with the affection with which she treated her other grandchildren. She wasn’t a particularly “warm” woman to anyone, but, with him, she was downright frigid.
Eric couldn’t help but to wonder if Grandpa John had also known about Peder Lang. In truth, Eric didn’t remember spending much time with his paternal grandfather. His grandparents were usually traveling during the winter holidays, and Eric remembered only a couple of Christmases when they were present at Appius’s home. And—unsurprisingly—John Northman had spent more time with the younger children, both because he knew them better and because they were more outgoing—and more fun—than the painfully introverted Eric.
It was unexpected, then, when Grandpa John left Eric a sizable inheritance when he died. The other children had been left only NP stock since they all had trust funds set up. On the other hand, Eric had been given quite a bit of money in addition to stock, though he’d had to wait until he was 21 to get access to it. Tellingly, that inheritance had been set up to be completely independent of Appius’s control.
Had John Northman suspected that Appius would withhold Eric’s trust fund from him? Eric had to figure that the answer to that question was, “yes.”
After the incident with Peder and the DNA test, Eric had begun to suspect that his paternal grandfather had been trying to help him as much as he could, even though he probably thought that Eric wasn’t even his grandson.
As Eric half-listened while Pam told him about the latest antics of one of the pickier authors she worked with, he continued to think about his grandfather. He still remembered when Godric unexpectedly showed up at Exeter Academy one afternoon. His old headmaster had driven Eric to Manhattan so that he could visit John Northman. Eric had been seventeen, and Grandmother Northman had not been in the house. During the thirty minutes they’d spent together, his very weak grandfather had told him that he was sorry that he’d not been able to make things better for Eric. He also said that no matter what happened in the future, he would always love and be proud of Eric, and then he gave Eric a box, which held the trains that Eric remembered from his childhood.
Grandpa John had explained that Markus had brought the trains to him a few months before. The butler had been tasked with cleaning out the attic and had found them there. Appius had told him to give the items to charity, but when he went to do so, Markus noticed some old pictures in the box. The pictures depicted Eric and John Northman playing with the trains. Not knowing how to get ahold of Eric, the butler had secretly called John and asked if he wanted the items.
Eric’s grandfather had apologized for not returning the trains to him sooner and seemed to want to say more to him; however, the visit ended abruptly when John received a call telling him that his wife was returning early.
John Northman had died less than a week later.
Eric had appreciated his grandfather’s words and kindness very much, though he’d been confused by the need for secrecy. And he’d been even more confused when he was invited to the reading of John Northman’s Will two weeks later. The other children were there—of course—but Eric hadn’t expected to be included, especially after he’d not been invited to attend the funeral. Eric had figured that his gift from his grandfather had been the trains, which were more than he’d ever expected from the man.
However, Eric was wrong. All of the other children, excluding Gracie—since Tamara had only just found out that she was pregnant days before the Will’s reading—were given 3% of NP. However, Eric was given much more stock than the others—14%. And then it was announced that Eric was getting more money on top of that. It had been clear to all present that Appius was furious that Eric had been given anything at all.
Now that Eric knew that his father had thought that he was a bastard, he figured that Appius had asked John Northman to leave him out of his will. John obviously hadn’t heeded his son’s wishes, much to the apparent chagrin of both Appius and Grace Northman.
“It’s time for brunch!” Sophie-Anne’s voice chimed, breaking Eric from his thoughts.
Eric was grateful that the event was moving along. He glanced at his watch and smiled a little, knowing that Sookie would be engrossed in the gallery she’d picked.
That thought gave him a lot of peace, despite the fact that he felt like he was in the middle of enemy territory.
A/N: Hello all! Surprise! I was able to get another chapter prepared before I left for my in-laws. I hope that it’s not rough since I edited it one less time than usual.
Many thanks for the comments about the last chapter. I am really thankful for those of you who are sticking with this story! I hope the interactions between Eric and his family gave you more insight into what being at “home” was like for him. And—yes—I want to “silver” Appius too.
A couple of you have expressed concern that I will put Eric with Isabel (and pull a C.H. by giving you an “un-happily ever after”). All I will say is this: this story is an E/S story. This is also an angst story, and to keep angst alive, Eric and Sookie will face many threats to their relationship and future. However, neither Eric nor Sookie will do anything that could be considered “cheating on each other” in this story. I hope that allays some fears (especially for the reader threatening to stop reading if I even hint at putting Eric with someone else). I hope that you continue to reading, despite the “threats” that come along with an angst story. Also, remember that I cannot respond to your concerns and fears if you comment as a “guest.” If you need additional reassurances and spoilers in order to feel comfortable continuing this story, you can PM me. I understand that some people need to “know the ending” in order to comfortably enjoy the ride. (I am a last page reader myself, so I understand completely.) I will “help out” anyone that is in that situation b/c I love my readers and want them to feel happy as they read. Cool?
Again—I am thankful for all of you. Given the loss our fandom has had recently, I feel to need to let you all know how much you mean to me.
Happy Thanksgiving (if you celebrate)!
The Northman Father’s Day Gathering
Character Banners by Sephrenia