“I never looked up which was more durable.”
I kiss her temple. “Titanium,korovka.”
She selects the one with a beveled edge and a brushed center.
Misha pockets the others and hands me our rings.
The priest blesses them before placing each on our right hands.
As he retreats to the altar, we follow him, with Victoria shooting me an exasperated look as Misha has to snag the older man’s elbow for him to remain on a straight path.
Right in front of the altar is a piece of pale pink fabric that we both stand upon.
From the corner of my eye, I see Seamus and Misha hovering at ten til and ten past on the clock.
“Are you marrying of your own free will, Victoria and Maxim? You are not promised to another?”
I answer, just as she does, and the priest falls into a litany. I thank God that this is the abbreviated version of the ceremony when Victoria looks like she’s having trouble staying awake as the priest places crowns on our heads while we’re treated to reading from the Epistle, litanies, brief prayers, and then we drink from a cup of wine.
We join hands and the priest proceeds to wrap his stole around them. The Gospel book sits on the makeshift altar, and we, alongside Misha and Seamus, who hold our crowns above our heads, are guided around the book in a procession.
And that’s it.
We’re married.
It has none of the pomp I imagined she’d want, none of the ceremony. But it’s raw for all that. Meaningful.
She has come into this marriage with her eyes wide open.
She is no passenger princess of her fate, but is sitting in the driver’s seat.
Victoria Vasovchoseto become Victoria Lyanov.
Once we’ve signed the license I procured three days ago, I leave her to speak with Seamus, who looks at her with concern. Understanding why because her exhaustion is evident, I have to concede that he gives as much of a damn about her as she does him.
“Don’t disturb me until I message you in the morning,” are my first words as a married man to my brother.
Misha rolls his eyes. “I managed to figure out that you’d want some semblance of a wedding night, Maxim.”
I smirk. “The brains of my operation, hmm?”
He flips me the bird but caps it off with a clap to my shoulder. “The deed’s done.”
“Yeah.”
“You waited a long time for this. Hope it’s worth it.”
“With well-wishes like that, I’m sure it’ll last a lifetime.” I ignore his sheepish grin and dismiss him. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I expect answers before then.”
With that warning ringing in his ears, he departs, taking the priest with him, and leaves me to watch my wife and her friend…
Wife.
At long last…
THIRTY-TWO
TIME TO STAKE A CLAIM
