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“I already feel like a scarecrow standing here being ignored,” I mumble and Vanya jabs her elbow into my ribs painfully. “Ciro, nice to meet you.”

“Look at him! I am not only one who is polite, it seems. Training starts tomorrow, Ciro, so you make sure and come to see me extra for food. Captains might try to haze you, starve you out. I won’t let this happen.”

“Thanks. And for the warning.”

We head back toward the tables on the other side of the room, sitting apart from the rabble of goons still harassing Matvey. A part of me wishes I was there with them, joking, acting…normal.

Shoveling the stew and bread into my mouth, I space out for a while, joined in companionable silence by Vanya. A few times, I almost ask her a question, start a conversation, but I can’t seem to find a thread to chase. Or maybe there are too many questions.

Now that I am out of the Gulag, I have no clue what to do. I spent three months just getting through it. One more hour, one more day.

Finally, she breaks the silence, looking at me from under those long, black lashes.

She could kill a man with a gaze. This one. I’d let her.

“You are quiet. It is weird.”

“I can’t tell if you are insulting me or complimenting me.”

“Always assume it’s an insult.” She smirks. “What is on your mind?”

“Too much. Nothing. I think I’m a little…overstimulated.”

“Like puppy. I get this. Your whole world just changed.”

“Again.”

“Da.”

“I think I just need some sleep. For like a week. Or I need something to do. A task.”

“That begins tomorrow. And you will have plenty to do. I will make sure to keep you busy.” Did her eyebrow just twitch when she said that?

And suddenly I’m overstimulated in a different way.

“Planning to train me yourself?”

“Kick your ass, you mean.”

“Kick it, grab it, whatever you like,koroleva.”

“Finish your food. You’ll need your strength.” She leans across the table, somehow threatening and teasing me in the same look. Thank goodness I’m sitting down.

Cramming the last of the broth-soaked bread in my mouth, I’m quick to dump my dishes and catch up to the swaying hips leaving the common room. Resounding laughter chases me out and I try ignore it.

Shit. I look like her fucking lapdog.

I should be so lucky.

But I am definitely going to take some shit for it. Even so, I’m enjoying the view of her walking ahead of me when I reach my room.

Vanya turns back to give me a look and poke one finger into my chest. “See you on the sparring field, 6 a.m.”

“I’ll be there promptly five minutes late.”

Vanya simply shakes her head, the promise of violence clear in her eyes. I match her glare for glare as we stand there, inches apart. I could just steal a kiss, right there.

Until the door to my room suddenly swings open and we both jump.