“That was almost a joke.”
“It was a warning.”
“About your multitudes?” She raises a brow.
“Among other things.”
The snow thickens as we walk back toward the car. She slows near a kiosk selling coffee and pastries, drawn by the smell before she admits it.
“You just had breakfast,” I remind her.
“That was before walking.”
“We have walked for twelve minutes.”
“In the snow. It counts double.”
I buy her a pastry with cherries, and she eats it standing beneath a narrow awning while snow gathers along the edges. A bit of filling catches at the corner of her mouth. She notices me looking and wipes the wrong side.
I lift my hand and remove it with my thumb.
She goes still. So do I.
The city moves around us. Cars pass. People hurry by, shoulders hunched against the cold. Somewhere nearby, church bells begin to ring, low and heavy through the winter air.
Katerina’s eyes stay on mine.
I should step back. Instead, I lower my hand slowly. “You had cherry on your mouth,” I say.
“I know.”
“No, you did not.”
“I knew after you looked at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you were deciding whether to clean it off or kiss it off.”
A rough laugh leaves me, unexpected and quiet.
Katerina looks too pleased with herself, standing under a narrow awning with cherry filling on her mouth and snow in her hair, as if she has discovered some private weakness in me and intends to use it badly.
She’s not wrong.
Before I can say anything, music starts somewhere down the street.
Not loud at first. Just the thin, quick sound of an accordion cutting through traffic and winter air. Then a violin joins it, bright and sharp enough to make Katerina turn immediately.
“What is that?”
“Music.”
She gives me a look. “Thank you. Very educational.”
I glance past her toward the corner. A small crowd has gathered near the entrance to a pedestrian street. Tourists, children, a few locals pretending they have stopped only because the path is blocked. Two men are playing near a painted wooden cart strung with lights, and a woman in a long red coat is dancing on the snowy pavement, her boots tapping in time.
Katerina is already moving toward them.
