Page 205 of Dark King Daddy

“How does he keep doing that?”

“Years of practice,” Nikita said. “Very little shame.”

“None,” Arkady corrected, and passed the extra roll to Kiryl. “And don’t forget my natural charisma!”

The table got louder. Anton and Sal began discussing a restaurant in Chicago. Kiryl tried to explain something from a lecture, lost his place when Nikita asked a question and accused him of doing it deliberately.

“I’m interested,” Nikita said.

“That’s the problem. Be less interested.”

Yelena laughed so hard she had to put down her glass.

I sat back with my arm across Ksenia’s chair and let them talk.

My father would have wanted to know what we were accomplishing. There would have been a point when he put his glass down and everyone waited for the conversation to become useful.

I reached for another potato.

Beside me, Ksenia rested her hand on my thigh.

Arkady reached beneath his chair and brought out a box. He dropped it beside Kiryl’s plate.

“Before I forget.”

Kiryl opened it. Inside was a desk lamp, adjustable, heavy enough to stay where it was put.

He looked up.

“Mine broke.”

“I know.”

“I only mentioned it once.”

“To each of us,” Arkady said. “I’ve spared the family an appeal fund.”

Kiryl took the lamp out of the box. He turned it over in his hands, testing the arm.

“This is a good one.”

“Then it shouldn’t break. We all benefit.”

“Thank you.”

Arkady reached for his wine.

“Study something useful.”

“Such as?”

“How to carry a conversation without mentioning a lamp.”

Kiryl grinned and began putting it carefully back in the box.

I caught Arkady’s eye. He pointed at me with his fork: not a word.

I obeyed. I could be generous too.