Page 27

I freeze behind the partition, my hand clenched around the grille, unable to move. I can’t be hearing what I am. Just a second ago, Fedor was speaking about how happy I look, and the next thing I know, Agafon is denying that he’s soft for me. He says looks can be deceiving.

Agafon’s words slice into my heart, and I feel my hands tremble from the sorrow I feel.

Just this morning, his hands were clasped around my waist as he kissed me good morning before heading off to work.

And what about that night in the hut? Was taking me to bed with such care and affection also an act?

I thought we were making progress, especially when he told me all about Nikandr. But am I wrong? Hearing him now, it seems that what I thought we shared means nothing to him.

I press my back against the wall to the washroom, trying to breathe past the anxiety crawling through me. I need to get out of here, but I don’t want to see Agafon right away.

I’m disappointed. So disappointed to hear how callously he denies having any feelings for me, how carelessly he stops my brothers from making inferences about our relationship that hint at affection.

If he feels nothing for me, then why should I foolishly invest the time and effort I have into building something real?

I push myself away from the wall, smoothing down my dress over my hips. Maybe, a small voice in my head thinks. Maybe he’s putting on an act for my brothers. I refuse to believe he feels nothing for me. I, too, thought he was going soft on me.

Have I read him wrong?

Every cell in my body wants to flee, to find a quiet corner where I can process the sting of his words. I slip out through the grille and see that Agafon has his back to me.

With a frown and clenched fists, I turn on my heels and head in the opposite direction, to where the bar is. Maybe a drink and some space could help me think clearer.

Just then, I notice some activity by the main entrance. Many of my cousins are gathered there, focused on one person among them. Just then, Nikolai and Dima step aside, and I see him.

It can’t be. Am I dreaming? I thought my oldest brother was in Russia!

My heart stutters, then races like a wild thing in my chest.

“Lion?” I squeal out loud before I can process that he's really here.

My voice must have travelled through the room because the next thing I know, Lion’s eyes are locked into mine. He breaks into a smile that can power the whole room.

“Lilushka,” he calls, using the childhood nickname that only he ever used. Little flower.

I'm running before I realize it, weaving between startled guests to make my way over to Ardalion.

He moves toward me with equal speed, and we collide in the middle of the room, his arms wrapping around me so tightly I can barely breathe.

But I don't care. I bury my face in his chest, and he smells just like I remember: like home.

“You're here, you're really here,” I mumble against his jacket, my voice muffled but thick with emotion. “I can't believe it.”

Lion's laugh rumbles through his chest and into mine. “Look at you, little sister, all grown up and married.” He pulls back, holding me at arm's length to study my face. His eyes, the same blue-green as mine, soften at the corners. “You look beautiful, Lilushka. Happy.”

The last word makes me flinch inwardly, Agafon's cold words still fresh in my mind. But I force a smile, because some part of me doesn't want to taint this moment by making Ardalion worry.

“What are you doing here? How did you—I mean, I thought you were in Moscow, handling—” I lower my voice, conscious of ears everywhere. “—business.”

Lion's face grows serious for a moment. “That’s all done now.

I had some time on my hands and the first thing I wanted to do was come see you.

I'm sorry I wasn't here for your wedding, Beth. It killed me to miss it.” He looks sad, pained by the milestone he missed, and I reach out, cupping his cheek in my palm.

He whispers, “Some things are bigger than us, you understand? Even family sometimes.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat as the memory of getting married without my brothers present comes back to life. “And where are the others? Benedikt? Sergey? Samuil? Are they in town too?”

“No, I’m sorry. They’ve still got to overlook some things across Europe.” His thumb wipes away a tear I didn't realize had fallen. “They send their love. And their regrets.”

“I know,” I say, and I do. In our family, duty comes first. Always has.

Lion now pulls back and gives me a gentle smile. “I’d love to meet your husband. Is he here?”

For a brief moment, I don’t want to make that introduction.

Agafon’s words still disappoint me. But now, I’m feeling happier and more in control.

Whatever Agafon said, there must have been a reason behind it.

Maybe, in time, I can ask him about it. But for now, those words weren’t meant for my ears.

For now, I’ll go with how he treats me and what he says to my cousins.

“Sure,” I say, linking my arm through Lion’s and leading him through the crowd to go find Agafon.

He’s still waiting for me outside the washroom, and when we approach, he turns. I notice the question in his eyes, the unspoken “ what took you so long ?” but his words die out when he sees my brother beside me, his arm linked through mine.

From what I know, they’ve never met before. Agafon might be wondering who he is.

My brother speaks first, his voice still warm but with a new edge to it, “So this must be your husband.”

“Agafon,” I say, “this is my eldest brother, Ardalion Orlov. Lion, my husband.”

The two men regard each other like wolves, and I watch nervously as neither makes a move. Then, Lion extends his hand first, much to my relief.

“I've heard a lot about you, Letvin,” Lion says kindly, but his grip, I can see, is crushing.

Agafon doesn't flinch. “All terrible things, I'm sure.” The corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying to smile but can’t bring himself to.

“Some.” Lion doesn't release his hand immediately. “Though from what I’ve heard, my sister seems fond of you, which counts for something.”

I feel heat crawl up my neck. “Lion—”

“It's fine, Lilibeth,” Agafon says with a shrug, pulling away his hand. “Your brother is right to be protective.”

Lion tilts his head at Agafon. “I wasn't at the wedding to give the traditional warning, so let me do it now.” His smile is pleasant, but his eyes are steel. “Hurt my sister, and I'll kill you. Slowly.”

An awkward laugh escapes me. “God, Lion, really? Here?”

But Agafon just nods, respect flickering across his features. “I would expect nothing less from an Orlov.” He looks at me then, and something in his expression shifts, softens perhaps. “Your sister is safe with me.”

The words sting given what I overheard, but I keep my face neutral. This isn't the place for confrontation.

Lion studies Agafon for another long moment before seemingly making a decision. “Good. Besides, I think my cousins must have troubled you enough with these empty threats.”

Agafon snorts at the same time I do, and Lion breaks into a grin. “Come,” he motions at Agafon and me. “I need a drink after the flight, and I want to hear everything about your new life together.”

We move toward the bar, and Lion slings his arm around my shoulder.

We catch up all night long, and Lion and I have so much to talk about that we keep cutting each other off.

It’s funny. It’s sweet. It’s what makes our relationship so precious.

Sometimes, when Agafon speaks, I’m once again reminded of his words, but I cast them aside, not wanting to ruin precious seconds with my brother.

Hours later, as the crowd begins to thin, Agafon makes a suggestion. “We should head home,” he says to me, then nods to Lion. “You're welcome to stay with us, of course.”

I’m touched by the kind offer, though I can’t bring myself to let it show on my face.

Once again, confusion sweeps over me. Why would Agafon make such an offer if he wasn’t soft for me?

He knows Lion has cousins all over the city, doesn’t he?

I want to groan and shake the truth out of Agafon, to be honest. But not here. Not now.

Lion shakes his head. “I had my apartment set up before I arrived. I have business to attend to first thing.” He kisses my cheek. “I'll see you soon, Lilushka. We have a lot to catch up on.”

Lion leaves, and I'm left alone with Agafon as we walk to his car. He decided to drive himself tonight, though the convoy follows.

Agafon opens the passenger door for me, his hand brushing my lower back as I slide in. The simple touch ignites something I'm trying hard to ignore.

We drive in silence for several minutes. I stare out the window, lost in thoughts of how our marriage means “nothing.”

“Your brother seems protective,” Agafon finally says and breaks the silence.

I turn to look at him, deciding that talking about my brother is definitely better than discussing what I heard. I’m not in the mood for that conversation quite yet. “He always has been. All my brothers are.”

“Yeah?” he asks casually, taking a turn. “Where are Benedikt, Sergey, and Samuil by the way?”

“Still out of the country,” I shrug.

“Surprising how none of them were at our wedding.”

I frown, wondering what he’s implying.

“They couldn't be,” I say, a defensive edge creeping into my voice. “They were busy, and we got married so fast.”

Agafon scowls. “Is work important enough to miss their only sister's wedding?”

Something inside me snaps. “Don't you dare judge them. You have no idea what they've sacrificed for me.” I turn fully in my seat to face him. “We're not from the prominent side of the family like you Letvins. My brothers have had to work twice as hard to prove themselves, especially to the elders.”

Agafon glances at me, surprise flickering across his features at my outburst.

“Lion did his best to support us after our parents died,” I continue, the words tumbling out now.

“He made sure we had food on the table, that we were protected. And my cousins—they fought to get me out of Russia when I was still a child, to keep me safe from the troubles my brothers had to handle.”

My voice catches. “Do you know what it's like to be separated from your family at thirteen years old? To grow up knowing your brothers are in danger and there's nothing you can do about it?”

The car slows, and Agafon pulls over to the side of the road. He turns off the engine and shifts to face me, his expression compassionate in the dim light.

“No,” he says quietly. “I don't know what that's like.”

I look down at my hands, twisted in my lap. “I love my family. All of them. They've sacrificed everything to give me chances they never had.” I look up, meeting his gaze directly. “I will always be grateful to them for that.”

Agafon reaches out, his fingertips grazing my cheek so lightly that I might have imagined it. “You are loyal,” he says, and I swear I hear admiration in his voice.

“Family is everything,” I whisper.

“Yes,” he agrees, his eyes never leaving mine. “It is.”

In this moment, something shifts between us. Not forgiveness, I haven't forgotten what I overheard, but understanding, perhaps. A recognition of shared values, if nothing else.

Agafon starts the car again, and we continue our journey home in silence. But it's a different kind of silence now. It’s less hostile and more contemplative.