chapter 18
Iselyn
“What are you doing here, Lyn?” Mom’s voice comes from behind me.
I rub my hands to shake off the soil, most of it falls, though some has stubbornly stuck. I turn toward her. “Adding some manure to the calendula,” I say.
“Come inside, it’s very cold out, and why aren’t you wearing gloves?” Mom tries her best to look mad, but as always, she only looks cute with her frown.
I follow her inside, chuckling. I wash my hands before heading to the living room, where Mom is now gently scolding Papa about my activities.
We live in a small countryside village, Turgenevo, in a modest house with just two rooms, a living room and a kitchen. Behind it is Nana Irina’s cottage, and beside our house is a guesthouse Dad built later. Whenever my uncles or cousins visit, they stay there.
“There are only two days left until her wedding, and look at her! How good will the bride look with soil under her nails?” Mom exclaims.
Papa chuckles at Mom’s fussing. I sit beside him, checking my nails. There’s indeed a bit of soil. “Don’t worry, Mom. Tomorrow, Vina will do my manicure.”
Tomorrow we leave for Vladivostok. The wedding will take place in Mikhailov Palace. My gut tightens as the realization of how few days remain sinks in.
Papa notices the change in my expression and pats my cheek. “Everything will be fine,” he reassures me.
I give him a smile that doesn’t reach anywhere near my eyes. Of course, everything will be fine, except my life.
I’m going to marry that psychopath, and I’m not even sure what his emotions or feelings for me truly are.
Everybody claims he loves me a lot, but I know that isn’t true.
He may be interested in me for now, but there’s no guarantee he’ll still be interested after a year.
And I’m terrified that I’ll fall for him again, only to have my heart shattered all over again.
I take a deep breath, steeling my resolve. I’m not going to love him. I’ll make his life hell, make him realize he doesn’t want me, and then make him divorce me. He’s forcing me into this marriage, and I’ll force him to walk out of it.
My heart will be safe as long as it stays away from Matleon.
There is no other man who can make it beat the way he can, and no other man who can crush it the way he can.
I’ve experienced his charm and his cruelty far too closely, and I’m not strong enough to go through that again without losing myself.
Mom’s voice pulls me out of the maze of my thoughts.
“Are you not happy with the marriage, Lyn?”
She’s asked me this question many times, and every time, I give the same answer.
“I’m happy,” I say softly. “I just don’t want to leave you both.”
Papa caresses my head. “You can come to see us anytime. But is that the only reason you’ve been looking so troubled lately?”
He turns fully toward me. “I like Matleon. He’ll take good care of you.
A father only wants his daughter to always be happy.
And even if I think you’ll be happy with him, that doesn’t mean you feel the same.
Even if he were the best man alive, I wouldn’t want you to marry him looking like this.
I’ll refuse Alessio, and he’ll understand. ”
I smile. “It feels good to hear that you still love your daughter. Otherwise, I would’ve thought you’d force me to marry at any cost.” I chuckle. “But there’s no problem. I want to marry him.”
I can’t tell him that Matleon said he’d kill everyone I love if I didn’t marry him.
If I said that with just a few tears in my eyes, Papa would believe me without needing any proof.
No matter how perfectly Matleon has painted his image, Papa would believe his daughter’s tears. But that would lead to war.
He wouldn’t stay silent knowing someone dared to blackmail me, and neither would Uncle Maksim.
On the other side, Matleon would raise hell, I know him well enough to be certain of that.
A war between these families would only lead to destruction, because it wouldn’t just be two powerful families fighting.
It would be two powerful nations at war.
And besides, my aunt and Matleon’s mother are very close cousins.
I don’t want to put them through the pain of seeing their husbands fight each other.
Kaz is also very close to Zo and Matleon; a war would tear brothers apart and turn everything unbearably complicated.
And most importantly, I don’t want any harm to come to Matleon.
And why would I create so much chaos for something that can be done far more easily, and with much more fun? My mood brightens at the thought of ruining Matleon’s peace of mind.
Papa pinches my cheek. “Alright, if you say so. Don’t complain later that your father was cruel,” he chuckles.
Mom and I join him in laughter.
It feels good to see both of them happy. Mom has been getting emotional on and off for the past week, and Dad has been working hard to distract her whenever he can.
I get up from the couch. “I’m going to see Nana.”
They nod, and I head toward the back door down the hall. It opens into the backyard, where Nana Irina lives in her cozy cottage. She stopped working a long time ago. Now our caretakers are Misa and Evelyn, a husband-and-wife duo who live a little distance away in their own house.
Nana never married and never had children of her own. When Papa asked her whether she wanted to stay here or move somewhere else, she chose to stay. Mom had been very happy about that decision.
I open the door to her cottage, she never locks it during the daytime, because if she did, I’d bang on it all day.
She’s sitting in her armchair near the window, stitching something while an old Russian song plays in the background. Her face lights up into a grin the moment she sees me.
“Perfect timing,” she says, holding out a red-colored sweater. “Here. Try this.”
I take it from her hands happily, remove my jacket, and pull it on. March isn’t unbearably cold here, but it’s still chilly enough for a sweater.
“Mmm,” I murmur, rubbing my cheek against its shoulder. “It’s so soft.”
She chuckles. “It’s your wedding gift.”
I pout, sitting near her feet on the carpet. “That’s not fair, Nana. You’ve made more than a hundred sweaters for me, and yet for my wedding you’re giving me a sweater.”
She laughs softly. “Alright then, tell me, what do you want from this old woman?”
I sit with my back pressed against her knees. She starts massaging my head, gently.
“Why don’t you give me some very, very valuable lesson to carry with me?”
She pauses, then speaks calmly. “Love him without holding back, and let him love you without any restraint. That is how your life will become beautiful.”
“What if I know that loving him without holding back will only give me pain?” I mutter.
She chuckles quietly. “The path of love is always painful, Kroshka. But when you open your heart completely, you will also see how much happiness it can give you. To see his love, you must open your heart. You can’t keep it closed forever, because that, too, will hurt.”
I take a long breath through my nose, pushing Nana’s advice to the back of my mind. I’ll think about it some other day.
I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the calming rhythm of her fingers moving through my hair. Today is the last day I get to feel this kind of comfort. After this, for an uncertain length of time, I’ll be away from everything I love.
I’m going to miss this place terribly—my small bedroom, the big garden, my medicinal plants, my parents, Nana. I want to pack everyone and everything up and take them with me to San Diego.