Page 29 of The Pakhan’s Heir

“Nona,” I say in a slightly lower tone. “A week ago, our families were trying to kill one another. Only by the grace of this sham marriage are we at peace. That said, if I were in an Irkutsk house right now and just started roaming around, what do you think would happen to me if I were caught?”

I see the beginnings of tears start to form in her eyes, but she purses her lips, doing her level best not to show me weakness. “You would be treated like a spy,” she said. “My father would probably have you killed.”

“That’s right, and you know as well I do that we don’t suffer spies in this life. You’re lucky I don’t put a fucking bullet in your head.”

She takes a breath, then says, “Sorry. I… should have realized. It won’t happen again.”

“You'd better believe it won’t,” I tell her. “I don’t want to see you in this room or hiding in any other room in this house. Is that understood?”

She nods, then walks out, checking over her shoulder for me as she leaves. As soon as she’s out of sight, I close the door behind her.

This is a fucking mess. I know she was looking through my writing desk, at least… not that there’s much that she’d find in here even if she were spying.

Which, the more I think of it, the less I believe that’s what’s happened at all. I think maybe I’ve let Kostya’s paranoia get to me a little. Nona might be a little rabbit, but I don’t think she’s a fool. If this whole peace thing is going to work, it depends on her as much as it does me. She’s not likely to throw it away.

Still… I can’t have her wandering the halls like this while I’m working. I pull out my cellphone and call Yeva.

“Morning, Married Man,” she answers, a joyful, yet tired tone in her voice. “How was the honeymoon?”

“That is none of your business,” I tell her. “I didn’t really call to chat, Yeva. I need your help.”

“You need… my help? With what?”

“Nona. I just caught her sneaking around the house.”

She pauses. “What do you mean, ‘sneaking around’? How do you sneak around your own house?”

“It’s my house,” I correct her.

“Yeah, okay. I mean, she is your wife and therefore, ‘Molotov Manor #2’ is also her house.”

“The point, Yeva, is that I have work to do during the day and I can’t have her wandering around this house unsupervised. You do understand why I can’t have that at all. I don’t know her very well, and while I’d like to think that her intentions are pure⁠—”

“I get it, I get it,” she says. “Strangers in your house freak you out. Got it.” She pauses, and I can already visualize her judging me with our mother’s eyes.

I sigh. “What?” I ask.

“Where were you, anyway? I mean, I know you’re a big-time brigadier and all, but what were you doing that she was allowed to just… snoop or whatever?”

“I was working. What else would I be doing?”

“Okay,” she says. “But listen, as weird of a situation as this is, you kind of have to expect that this sort of thing was going to happen. What did you think? She was supposed to lie naked in bed and wait for you all day?”

Hearing that a second time stings a little. “I can’t believe you’re giving me a hard time about this.”

“I’m just saying that at some point, you’re going to have to come to some kind of agreement of trust with her. I mean, arranged marriage or not, you two have to coexist in the same house together.”

“Yeva, please.”

“What? You are living in the same house together. And she’s not a child or some tragic, fairytale princess. You aren’t expecting to keep her locked up like Rapunzel or something.”

It’s a valid point. Not that I’d ever dream of doing that… especially after she just acted like I was going to rip her limb from limb just for catching her in my parlor. “Well,” I say, “that’s why I’m calling you. Nona needs somebody to keep her company while I work. Maybe to keep her busy.”

She laughed. “Right. You want me to babysit your new wife, Sasha?”

“You make it sound more demeaning than it actually is.”

“Maybe because it is demeaning? She’s an adult.”