AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Watching them has always hurt a little. They act like they’re twins. I’m always the third wheel with my own sister.
“You don’t look like you’ve gained weight,” I say. “Either of you. You could probably do to gain a bit more, honestly.”
“Look who’s talking.” Mirdza arches an eyebrow.
She’s not wrong. I’ve always been quite small, and being a jockey has only made it worse. But I’ve lost so much weight since being caught that Kristiana’s jeans would slide right off without a cinched belt holding them up. I’ve never had the curves I envy on other women. I look more like a stick figure.
But the way I look now is ridiculous.
“Maybe you’ll get fat and happy soon.” Kristiana’s smirk is irritating.
“Why would I?”
“No reason,” she says.
“If you’re talking about Alexei, stop. You know I don’t date, and if I were going to break my rule it would not be with a horse-man who claims he’s the rightful czar of Russia.”
Mirdza shrugs. “I wasn’t looking either.”
“I’m not just ‘not looking,’” I say. “I will not date, and you know why I never have, so stop.”
Mirdza sighs. “Alright.”
“Speak for yourself,” Kris says.
“You’ve met Martinš,” I say. “You know better than most my reasoning.”
“Not every man’s like him,” Kris says. “It took me a while to trust, too, but—”
“Enough of them are.” I walk toward the door. “And I’m not you. Okay?”
Kris nods. “Alright.”
“Let’s have the talk already,” I say.
“There should be food prepared,” Kris says. “At least we should go eat some of it.”
“Amen,” Mirdza says.
I follow Kristiana down a massive hallway, and then through heavy wooden doors into a cavernous room with tall, stained glass windows. There’s a long table along the wall that’s absolutely weighed down with platters of food. Blini with three or four different rich toppings, syrniki with sour cream and berries, plump, savory pelmeni piled up on top of one another, stroganoff and borscht in tureens, bright, chilled okroshka with loaves and loaves of fresh rye next to it, and platters of shashlik—lamb, beef, and chicken. Piles of fresh fruit and veggies are mounded up on either end.
My mouth’s watering like crazy.
When Kris starts piling up her plate, I jump in to do the same. Even after several days of consistent food at that stable, I’m still ravenous. Skipping breakfast this morning didn’t help. By the time we’ve all loaded up our plates, the men have also joined us. Grigoriy pulls out the chair next to Mirdza before heading over to grab food for himself.
Aleksandr sits next to Kris and tosses his head at one of the men standing by the doors. Apparently His Royal Highness doesn’t fill his own plate.
Alexei takes the seat next to me and does the same thing as Aleks, catching the eye of one of the footmen standing by the door. I suppose if he really was in line to be the next czar, he’s accustomed to having people serve him.
What a strange thought.
“Alright, what do you want to know first?” I ask.
What happened, essentially. That’s what everyone wants to know. I’m light on the details about Nojus, not sharing his name for instance, but I do go over how Leonid met me at the park, how he burned twelve men, how he destroyed the cameras first, and how I wound up locked up in a hut in Russia.
Even though I try to skip over the more miserable parts, like the electrocution and the lack of proper food or accommodations, Kristiana looks like she might throw up.
“But who’s the man who was after you in Latvia?” Alexei asks. “You never did say.”
