Chapter 4 Kat 1 year later
Chapter four
“Good morning, Mr. Halpern!” I greet my current events tutor as I enter the breakfast room.
He looks up from his paper with a grin on his face. “Good morning to you as well, Kat! You’re in rather good spirits today.”
“I must have woken up at the right time in my sleep cycle,” I say, reaching for my own paper, folded crisply in half and laid out beside my place setting,
The reason for my particularly good spirits today is a salacious dream I had last night about the man I’ll be marrying soon, but Mr. Halpern certainly doesn't need to know that.
“Very well, shall we go over the goings-on in the world as of late so we can both get on with our day?” Halpern asks.
“Of course.”
“If you turn to page five, you’ll see that the Braves lost their lead pitcher.” Halpern frowns before continuing. “I know this doesn’t necessarily pertain to you, but I’m somewhat of a fan of the sport and that’s the team I’ve attached myself to since arriving in America.”
“Would you like to know a fun fact about the Braves?” I ask, waiting for his confirmation before continuing. “They used to be the only baseball team you could watch on national TV because the owner of some major channels owned the Braves as well!”
Halpern fixes me with a quizzical look. “Why on earth do you know that, Katarina?”
“I know a lot of things, Mr. Halpern,” I say smugly as I unfold my paper. We discuss international politics, pure drudgery, but I’ll admit, it’s much easier to converse with a wide range of people if you know a little about most of the hot news stories of the day.
“Anything else worth discussing this morning before we start the day?”
“If you turn to page seven, you’ll see the recent deaths. It seems the owner of a property neighboring your future husband's estate passed away in his sleep last night. David Crowley. He was seventy-eight and not in the best of health, but I think it was still somewhat of a shock to his family.”
“How sad. I wonder if his family was close to the Sinclairs?”
He takes one last bite of his breakfast before standing to leave. “I’m not sure. The properties are both quite large, so it’s possible they didn’t have much to do with each other. In any case, that’s all I have for the day. Unless you’ve got any other hot topics, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
We say our goodbyes, and I’m left alone to eat my breakfast in peace, reading through the rest of today's paper and then finishing the daily crossword in just under ten minutes.
Like every morning, I stand from my seat just as the clock strikes eight and make my way toward the library.
I’ve almost sat down in my chair before I remember that since turning nineteen earlier this week, the classes I’ve taken every day for as long as I can remember are no more.
They’ve been replaced with wedding planning, dress fittings, wife training, and more mundane tasks.
A glance at my watch confirms that I have another two hours until my appointment to choose more linens for my trousseau.
If I didn’t know how much my family stands to gain from my marriage to Henry Sinclair, I would suspect that my father’s estate manager, Mrs. Nixon, was trying to bore me to death with all this incessant planning.
Usually at this time, I’d be knee-deep in small talk practice with one of my foreign language tutors, but with my new schedule, I have more free time. I barely have a moment of peace, though, before I’m regaled by the awful singing of my cousin Sasha, announcing his presence.
“My darlinggggg Katarina, she forsakes me for another…leaving me alooooone, her poor, sad brotherrrr…”
“You sound like an out-of-tune piano that was set on fire and thrown from a cliff.” I laugh, standing to receive his signature bear hug.
He’s my uncle Ivan’s son, though we’ve always acted more like siblings than cousins.
Sasha was technically allowed to leave our estate, but he rarely did while we were children.
He’s said it’s because he had everything he needed here, and he didn’t want to “associate with the plebs,” but I know it was at least partially out of guilt.
We grew up as thick as thieves, getting into trouble during lessons and sneaking around the house at night looking for mischief. I consider him my brother, the one person who will always have my back and want what’s best for me. My smile fades as I think about how soon I’ll be leaving him behind.
Sasha follows my gaze to a trio of framed photographs on the wall, of my father and his two siblings. My father is in the middle between Sasha’s dad and a rare picture of their sister, Natalya. The woman whose place I’ll be taking in this marriage contract.
“Did you ever meet our aunt? I don’t think we’ve ever talked about her.”
Sasha shakes his head, silent for a beat before finally breaking our silence. “I never met her. Grandfather banished her before you or I were born when he found out she was knocked up with some random man’s child.”
“Oh! I had no idea. Nobody ever talks about her. It’s kind of weird, actually.”
“I’m pretty sure everyone was banned from mentioning her name. I only know a little about her from my dad, but he was a bit closer to her than Pavel was, so it was harder for him to ignore her existence. In fact, I think they had a brief falling out over it.”
I walk over to the photo to get a closer look at the young girl. “That’s so sad. I can’t believe her own father did that.”
“Well, from the little Dad mentioned, she seemed to be somewhat of a problem child. Not that Grandfather was justified in his actions by any means.”
Would my own father do that to me? I’ve never rebelled against him in any capacity, so the consequences of doing such have never crossed my mind. Suddenly, my gilded cage feels much smaller, and my upcoming wedding feels a lot more like a new set of shackles than it did before.
“Ah, KitKat, don’t be sad. Before long, that giant of a husband will be dicking you down so hard you won’t even be able to see straight, let alone frown!” He laughs as I pinch his side, following him to our favorite alcove in the back of the library.
“Must you be so crass? And must you also remind me of my wifely duties? I promise you, Mrs. Nixon has that lesson plan well in hand.”
Flopping onto the plush sofa, I feel him sit beside me and reach for the tie around my wrist. As a child, Sasha was always the only person with gentle enough hands to braid my hair without causing me to scream like a banshee, and he’s still the best at it now.
Today, it serves as one more reminder of the simple life I’ll soon be leaving behind forever.
After a few silent moments, as Sasha starts the braid, he changes his tone to ask me a more somber question.
“Is it really bad? The lessons with Mrs. Nixon and all of the wedding planning, I mean. I know the big wedding isn’t what you’d pick for yourself, and I really don’t know how you’re being so stoic about leaving everything after all this time…”
He ties off my braid and shifts so he can see my face. His eyes are taut with worry, and I feel a pang of guilt for causing him any stress.
Smiling, I ruffle his hair the way I know he hates.
“No, it’s not bad. I’m just being dramatic about the amount of time I’m spending with Mrs. Nixon.
You know how she is. Stand up straighter, smile more naturally, don’t ever eat garlic at a dinner with men in attendance, blah, blah.
My posture is perfect! She’s impossible to please.
” I roll my eyes and huff as Sasha laughs.
“But really, Kat, what are your days like now? I used to know where to find you—morning lessons in the library, walk after lunch, afternoon classes in the solarium, jujitsu or fencing in the evening before dinner. It’s been the same for like ten years, at least. And now you’re all over the place in meetings and fittings.
I’m just worried about you adjusting. That’s all,” he says with a soft smile.
Despite being an absolute pain sometimes, my cousin has always had my best interests at heart. I can’t help but tease him, though.
“All I’m worried about adjusting to is Henry’s big. Ole. Dick!” I exclaim, dissolving into a fit of giggles as Sasha gags. “You’re the one who brought it up in the first place, and you know how tall he is. It’s got to be at least somewhat proportional!”
“I yield, I yield!” He’s covering his eyes now as I cackle, satisfied that I’ve paid him back for teasing me in the first place.
“To actually answer your question, mornings are a little freer than in the past. Instead of lessons, I have time to relax and read unless there’s a meeting scheduled, like tomorrow. I still walk after lunch. You should really join me more, by the way. It’s so good for your digestion.”
Sasha rolls his eyes at me, but I continue.
“Afternoons are packed with fittings and picking out details for every household item you can imagine. Did you know there are eleven categories of towels every woman is expected to have in her house? Eleven! Daytime, nighttime, pool, fancy pool…it’s a nightmare, honestly.
I’m still keeping up my fitness, though.
That hasn’t changed. I have to be able to kick your butt if the situation calls for it. ”
He’s back to assessing me now, and I know there’s nothing for it. Sasha cares about me, and he’s going to worry. I think he’s been a little bit concerned about my marriage since we found out about it on my sixteenth birthday.
“I just want you to be happy. This guy seems nice enough, but I hate you being a pawn in Pavel’s stupid quest for greatness. I’m glad you’re going to get out into the world a bit, at least.”
Standing up to stretch, I reach a hand out to pull Sasha up off the couch.
“I. Will. Be. Fine. I promise. I’m excited.
Nervous, of course, but who wouldn’t be?
And a little sad, too, to leave. I’ve been trapped here, technically, yes.
But it’s like a hundred acres and twenty thousand square feet.
I don’t think anyone would classify this as a prison.
Besides, we found enough hidden rooms and forgotten gardens out in the grounds that it felt like we were miles away sometimes.
“I do feel happy to get to know Henry. I was always going to have an arranged marriage regardless, and all the info I’ve been given makes him seem like a good man. I think I’ll be okay. Maybe I’ll even luck out and fall in love. If not with him, then with his giant di—”
“Okay, okay! I’m so happy for you, and you’ve convinced me you’re alright. I love you, and I’ll see you later. Bye!”
Cackling, I watch Sasha scurry away from me as fast as possible.
Before I can go back to enjoying my quiet morning, I’m caught by Satan’s mistress herself, Mrs. Nixon.
“Ah, Kat, there you are. I’m so glad I was able to find you. The shipment of your holiday linens has arrived for our review this evening, so I’m hoping to move up our intimacy lessons. I see you’re free now. Come.”
I breathe deeply, reminding myself that soon I’ll be completely free of this harpy of an estate manager whom my father is obsessed with.
I’m not sure where exactly he found her, but one day he showed up with her in tow, gave her a black American Express card, and allowed her to start managing almost every aspect of the house and grounds.
Luckily, she mostly had more important things to do than micromanage me, and my schoolmaster had the final say over almost all of the hours in my day.
But she infringed on my autonomy whenever she could, overhauling my wardrobe and renovating my suite of rooms to her taste.
Recently, though, her actions as a wedding planner have been enough to drive even the sanest person crazy.
Minutiae of the wedding, my trousseau, my deportment…
all have fallen in her line of fire, and I’m almost to the limit of what I’ll have to endure.
Luckily, I’ll soon be free of her and this place, rescued by my knight in shining armor.
“Henry!”
I’m interrupted from my thoughts as Mrs. Nixon leans primly against her desk in her office, having led me across the house like an animal to slaughter.
“Henry should be the only thing you’re thinking about these days, so I’m glad his name is what snapped you out of your daydreaming.
Now. As I told you earlier this week, today’s lesson is all about the body, and dressing it seductively to please your husband.
It’s important to remember it is your job to maintain yourself to his liking.
We’ve already gone over how to subtly ensure your hair and makeup are his preferences, and the physical form is no less important! ”
She slowly stands to circle me, eyeing my casual outfit of choice today, a pale blue and white knit skirt set that’s comfy for moving about the house without getting cold.
“You’re already at a disadvantage. First, no man wants a virgin.
Imagine if you hadn’t had me to tell you all about sex, how annoying that would be for a man to have to teach you.
It’ll still be trying for your husband to have to show you how to please him, but I’ve done what I can.
Second, men prefer softer, feminine physiques, and this muscle tone in your shoulders is unseemly. Must you continue your karate?”
“It’s jujitsu, and yes, it’s important to me.”
Rolling her eyes, Mrs. Nixon stops in front of me. “And you’re going to have to get used to wearing platform heels. I can’t imagine any man wanting to develop neck pain from bending over every time he wants a kiss. You’re a mismatch for Mr. Sinclair in that way, certainly.
“Now, about this soft, casual aesthetic you seem to gravitate toward. I think red latex is the way to go, and we can—”
She’s interrupted by her phone ringing, and when she realizes it’s not going to be a quick conversation, I’m dismissed with a wave of her hand.
Saved by the bell, I practically run from her office, hoping to avoid any more sex talk for the day.