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How many ghosts of Rus Land's own principalities has she seen already within this last decade?
First, it was of Tver, then followed by Turaŭ, and Pskov followed suit. Well, she has also sensed the idea of Beloozero and Izborsk being nearby, but she hasn't yet confirmed with her own eyes.
But here she's faced with another face that she'd rather not see—Grand Principality of Vladimir.
It was great that the latter wasn't like the former two, but more like his own son. Vladimir was always a quiet observer, so much so that he might as well be fooled by her act of being unable to see him. But Vladimir had something Tver didn't, which was help from his nephews that she could, in fact, see him. But it makes it more peculiar that Tver hadn't even tried talking to her yet. The same could be said to what his father was doing, observing silently.
Every moment Vladimir turned his gaze away from her, though, she looked back at him.
Theoretically, he should know that she was knowing of his presence. Her stare usually would flare up the sensation within people that they were being watched. And they were, she was watching them. And Vladimir should know, he's spent much time with Rus Land in the past.
But she'd feign ignorance for now, as she always had been. It was easy ignoring when you didn't want to look into the eyes of truth and be pained by what you saw in there. For once she does, she'll see nothing but the fact that it was always a choice, and she was the one who chose to obey.
She knew that already, though. There's no need in trying to figure out something when she knew it by heart. Unless she was feeling quite bored, but she wouldn't do that on these sorts of things.
Her gaze was averted when Vladimir looked back to stare at her.
He was quick to realise someone was watching him. Though it was obvious that, unless some human it was, only one Personification nearby could've seen him in the first place. But Vladimir seems adamant on trying to find otherwise. Perhaps he's on his way to find his two younger sisters.
Well, Russia doesn't believe that. He's probably trying to keep himself busy knowing that his own mother was watching him with great intent. She wouldn't be surprised if that was indeed the case. Must be awkward, talking—as a ghost—with someone who killed you a long time ago. Though it wasn't her issue, she wasn't keen on talking to him anyway.
But it didn't take long for his gaze to turn its way back to her figure once more. He was as his own son was, observant. Whether or not he'll sleep as she stands in front of her own grave is another story. Though right now, she wasn't in that cenotaph, so all should be well.
She was in front of his grave.
That is, in her opinion, most likely a worse thing. Maybe that's why Vladimir was there in the first place. Because his body was here. It was her who came to him, rather than the other way around. Oh, who was she lying to, of course that's why he's here. He must've been unsure where to go, which was why he stayed here.
Vladimir Oblast visits this place often. It was peculiar to her why he didn't follow her around, like how Tver decided to do so to her. But today, Tver was absent, and the absence was filled by his own father.
Was Vladimir present when she killed his son?
"You know I have forgiven you, do you not, mama?"
She would claim that she's hearing things, but the reality was that she's not. Her ears have never betrayed her.
And of course she knew that. How couldn't she? She firmly knows that all of her children's emotions are within their eyes, and that forgiveness and acceptance were present when Vladimir stared back at her before he was executed. His feelings were bare for her to see and indulge in, but she didn't want that.
She explicitly told him not to look at her, but he didn't listen.
At this point, she'd rather look at Novgorod than him.
Curse The Rhetoric and that so-called blessing for her memory to remain Eternal. It was hardly a blessing when she's forced to remember with clarity over all the wrong-doings she has done in her long and many lives. That was why she was so careful with her words in the first place.
She would love to just leave Vladimir to do his own bidding here, but she could hardly do so when he'd acknowledged the fact that she could see him. Such luck of hers. She couldn't do that after what he called her. He knew which strings to pull, as expected from her own kin.
He may not be in her family by most standards, but he is to her. He and all his siblings will always be apart of the greater family that is her line. Maybe that's the only similar thing between her and her father—other than the obvious visage—that is their affinity to children.
Unlike him, though, all of her children were bound to be a Personification. It was part of her curse.
Vladimir's eyes were filled with curiosity. Some might ask how she would've known that, but then she'd repeat that it was unwise to ask her how she knew of things. Another answer was that she intuitively knew, call it her instinct or whatnot, it wouldn't be wrong either way. He should really stop staring at her this way, Tver did the same thing before he decided to say something which had her think for thirty minutes.
How long has she been thinking again?
It doesn't matter, because in coming out of her thinking train, she'd be entertaining Vladimir and his doings. She'd rather not even interact with him. Not because she had anything against him, no, never that, but because she wished not to ever see into those eyes again. Not after the last time.
Even if Vladimir did forgive her, she didn't.
Would he even forgive her for killing his own cherished son?
He probably does, like how Novgorod did. Even so, she didn't wish to talk about that to him.
Her head hurts from thinking about these events too much. It was nice, though, for that pain to happen. It would've been God's wrath to have her forget about it. As much as she dislikes this memory of hers, she'd rather have it than to not have any recollection on what occurred with every new life.
"Tver does not hate you."
She's hearing things again, she'd say, even though she knew it not to be true. Though perhaps Vladimir's words has some merits, for Tver hates Moscovia, and not Russian Federation.
She couldn't help but to find that name funny. Moscovia, she meant. Her past self hated being called that, at least after Ivan Vasilyevich—could be either, could be neither—declared himself as tsar. It was always Russia, the preferred nomenclature, but Russia found it a favourite past time of hers to seethe her younger self a little. Nothing would ever convince her to call Rus Land as "Kievan Rus", though. That name goes to her first Lefthand, Grand Principality of Kiev.
But she's gone over this already. Perhaps it's her way of trying to remove herself from the space that is Vladimir's presence near herself.
She really can't figure this thing out. As much as Russia found it a nice hobby to put the blame on anything else, it's her's in the end. She also didn't understand why Tver would ever even forgive her in the first place. Was it because of her last words to him before his death? No, that hardly was it. They were cold, at best.
"Neither do I."
He should.
Did her ways of not holding a grudge past one life pass through him? Because it certainly did with Novgorod, but the same cannot be said to her older two. Halych was a wild card, while for Beloozero and Izborsk, she hadn't met either of them to fully confirm how they stand about this.
One day she'll forgive herself for not disobeying.