For several hours there was no sound but the almost comforting drone of powerful jet engines.  “Despite their unorthodox beginning,” Nikolas ventured, finally breaking the silence, “I almost dare to believe that Grigori and his new bride may truly succeed in having a happy marriage.” 

Andresj’ tugged at his necktie and removed it from around his neck.  He was clad in a black tailored suit identical to the one Nikolas wore.  But unlike Nikolas, who wore a muted plum-colored tie symbolic of his position as Prince of the Cassadine family, Andresj’s tie was a traditional gray.  “I was thinking the same thing as I watched them say their vows.”  He unbuttoned the collar of his white dress shirt.  “Jolie has forgiven our cousin his moment of panic and seems genuinely happy to be married to Grisha.” 

The two Cassadine men were on their journey back from France and the wedding of their sometime exasperating cousin Grigori.  

Two weeks had passed since an irate stranger had stormed Nikolas’ office in Port Charles and demanded a resolution to the dilemma of his pregnant, unwed teenage daughter. 

“Monsieur Wischard has not forgiven so easily,” Nikolas smiled.  He took a small sip of the Pinot Noir presented to him by Mathieu Wischard.  The wine was from the Wischard family vineyard and Nikolas suspected it was intended as a reminder that Jolie also brought a strong family heritage to the marriage.  “Grigori will have some rough times with his new father-in-law.” 

“Perhaps not so rough.  Despite his anger, Jolie’s father was reluctantly impressed by your gift to the new couple.”  Andresj’ paused.  “That was quite generous of you.” 

“It was what I believe our father would have wanted me to do.”   

The moment the words escaped his lips, Nikolas felt the atmosphere shift.  The proverbial two-ton invisible elephant that was the subject of their father had landed in the jet’s cabin between he and his younger brother.  Nikolas was therefore pleasantly surprised when Andresj’ visibly shook off his instinctive reaction and responded fondly to his older brother’s words.   

“Can you imagine,” Andresj’ grinned faintly, “our father’s reaction if he had been the one first approached by the Wischards?  I don’t know which would have outraged him more; the thought that I would be so cavalier about a child of mine or the realization that Grigori has no doubt committed untold acts while masquerading as me.”  Nikolas and ‘Dre shared a moment of quiet laughter.   

“I have missed your kinship[1], little brother,” Nikolas offered.  It was moments such as those that the young prince was grateful for the extensive vocabulary Stefan had provided them.  He knew that Andresj’ would understand and appreciate the distinction of his choice of words. 

“As I have missed yours.” 

Few words were spoken during the remainder of the flight home.  But neither young man worried.  The two weeks they had spent working together on Grigori’s situation had begun a healing process.  The road to the closeness they once took for granted would not be an easy one to travel.  But for the first time in more than a year, both Nikolas and Andresj’ believed that the rift between them could be repaired. 

It was a start.  And enough for the moment.

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