Page 65 of Fractured Empire

“Patience isn’t one of his stronger qualities.”

“No, it seems not.” She giggles. “At least his sour moods don’t last very long. It was easy to cheer him up when switching to a new activity.”

“Sounds like him.” My head dips, nodding along. “What did you end up doing for dinner?”

“Spaghetti.” Katya looks down, biting her lip. “I kind of cheated making it. You have a ton of homemade jars of sauce, and I found frozen vacuum-sealed meatballs. You also have very fancy dry pasta in the pantry so…”

She looks so fucking cute when she’s sheepish.

“I hardly call that cheating, that’s what it’s all there for,” I assure her, chuckling. “Martha, my family’s chef who lives in the main house, makes her own sauce and meatballs and sends some every couple of months for me to keep in stock. The fancy dry pasta is the only non-fresh pasta she approves of, and the boys like it so I don’t challenge her on it. I do my best, but handmade pasta isn’t something I have time for every day.”

“Does anyone have time for that every day?” She blinks. “I was barely able to put it all together while the boys ran around the house, chasing each other with foam swords. They’re little knights in the making, you know?”

My lips quirk up and I shake my head. “You know you’re allowed to tell them to calm down and sit while waiting for dinner? They’ll listen to you, if you ask them to.”

“And crush their little spirits? I think not.” Katya spins around her computer so that I can see her screen and gestures toward it. “I’ve been researching and planning fun stuff to do with them since they went to bed. Why are so many activities suggested for young kids dangerous? A trampoline park will never happen, and if you ever take them to one, lie to me.”

Startled laughter barks out of me. “A trampoline park? Should I ask why?”

“Emergency rooms see over ninety thousand trampoline injuries in children every single year and they can be fatal,” she blurts out in a worried rush. “It’s an unnecessary risk for just bouncing around.”

Blinking at her, I realize how serious she is about the subject and for some reason, it makes me laugh. Deep, hearty, soul-touching laughter that’s louder than it should be for this time of night. My shoulders lift and my chest shakes as I let the sounds come out of me anyway.

Katya doesn’t frown but pouts, twisting her lips and crossing her arms as if affronted. “It’s not funny. I’m serious, it’s dangerous.”

“I’m not laughing at your concern," I assure her, calming down and letting my humor drift away. "It’s just…Jesus Christ, you really are made to be a mother, you know that? You just told me to lie to you if I ever take the children to a trampoline park because you can’t bear hearing about them being put in a dangerous situation even if it’s meant to be a fun activity.”

Katya’s pale throat bobs, and she looks down at the counter, hiding her face. “I care about them, of course I don’t want to see them hurt.”

“I know,” I agree, allowing my voice to dip into a soft timber. “I’m glad you do. I’m glad that I married someone who cares so fiercely, after only a couple days of truly knowing my children.”

“I’m glad we married too.” Her confession is barely loud enough to meet my ears, but it washes over me as intensely as it would if she yelled it from the rooftops. “I think I’m going to be very happy here.”

I hope you will be.

“I want that for you,” I tell her with a long look, waiting for her to look back up at me. “I promise I won’t take the kids to a trampoline park, but I can’t promise they won’t get into more reckless situations all on their own. They’re young, innocent, and cute now, but they’re going to begin training in a few years. They’ll learn weapons, and fighting, and worse. They’re going to be made men, eventually.”

Katya looks up then, tucking her lip in as she inhales sharply. “I can’t even imagine them being old enough to throw a proper punch, let alone handle weapons. Can’t they just stay this little forever?”

“Sometimes I wish the same thing.” My head shakes. “But they’re going to be good men. I loved growing up with my brothers. And yes, we got injured stupidly…a lot. But we knew how to handle ourselves, and now we’re strong enough to keep our families safe. Bastian and Leo are going to get bigger and eventually it will be them trying to keep you safe rather than the other way around.”

“God,” she breathes out in a rush. “I’d be so upset if they tried to push me out of the way of danger and stand in front of it instead. I think I’d have a heart attack.”

“You’ll have years to prepare for it.” Because it will probably happen.

I have to hope that when the day comes, it’s nothing dire. Pushing her out of the way of being rushed into by a crowd, or pulling her away from something falling above rather than jumping in front of a bullet, if we’re lucky. The idea of anyone getting close enough to Katya or my kids to aim a gun at them makes my stomach churn.

“I think I’ll choose to live in ignorance instead,” she muses, drumming her fingertips on the countertop. "Just thinking about it makes me want to bury my head in the sand.”

My head dips, nodding to agree with her statement. “Hopefully, time will be kind to us and slow down.”

“We can only hope.” She sighs, making a show of crossing her fingers for luck. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“Unfortunately,” I grumble, mood souring once again. “I should be home after their afternoon nap this time though. I’m just catching up on a few things and meeting with a few of my men.”

“They’ll be excited to see you,” Katya says with a gentle smile. “They told me all about how you read them bedtime stories so that I would know which books are their favorites. I’m sure they missed you tonight.”

Her words are meant to be sweet but they fucking sting.