Chapter 8 Tatyana
Tatyana
“Well, people will be talking about that for years.” Diana’s eyes were lit up. “I don’t know if you were fighting or not, but it was quite the spectacle.”
Tatyana refused to react. Her heart was beating at a nearly human rate, which meant she was excited, and she was trying to calm herself. It had taken everything in her to keep her face impassive and professional.
“Next on my dance card?” she asked Diana.
She caught Kezia’s raised eyebrow a short distance away, but her sister said nothing. It was a relief. Kezia could be fierce in her criticisms of Oleg, and Tatyana was not in the mood to listen.
Oleg had slid something onto her dress in the moments after their dance as the steam whirled around them and all the others were clapping for the orchestra.
She pressed her hand to her shoulder, right under the gather of silk from her headdress, but all she felt was a brooch of some kind, and she could not look.
“Your next dance is a quadrille with the Slovakian duke,” Diana quickly said. “He’s already walking this way.”
“Looking for a higher percentage of Poshani workers in the automotive factory we want to open in Trnava,” Rumi added. “We’re at fifteen percent now, so push for thirty.”
Tatyana nodded. “I remember.”
She would press for thirty-five percent but settle at twenty to twenty-five. That would give the duke a small but greater victory while still accomplishing her goals.
Tatyana turned as she saw him approach from the corner of her eye. “Duke Andrej, so good to see you again.”
“Shall we?” The duke held out his hand and Tatyana took it.
Diana had already procured her another set of gloves, which she’d quickly changed into after her dance with Oleg.
What do you do to me?
She caught her husband’s eye as they passed each other on the dance floor. He was holding the hand of Alina Machabeli, the regent of Georgia. Hardly a surprise, considering their close and historic relationship.
After that, he would dance with another, as would she. If her feet could get sore, they would be by the end of the night.
Tatyana hadn’t been lying that her dance card was full, so it wouldn’t have been possible to dance with her husband again even if their relationship was public.
“I’ve been watching your progress in Trnava with interest,” the duke said as they took their places on the dance floor. “I understand that the Poshani are considering greater investment in my territory for the future.”
“Of course.” Tatyana nodded as the music started. “But our priority has to be the economic best interests not only of our territorial partners but our own people.”
“I understand completely.”
Tatyana had not expected to become a skilled ballroom dancer as part of her leadership role as Poshani terrin, but surprisingly, it had been one of her first tasks. Luckily, she enjoyed ballroom dancing nearly as much as she enjoyed ballet, and she picked up all the dances with ease.
Vampire regents loved pageantry, and there was nothing more spectacular than a gold-paneled room full of beautifully dressed immortals dancing without any sweat or exhaustion. Many balls like this went nearly until dawn.
But unlike the storybooks she had read as a child, vampire balls were not for romance. They were for business and politics.
Tatyana’s second waltz came to an end with a solid twenty-two percent of jobs in the new factory committed to Poshani workers, while Tatyana had agreed to bring up the idea of a second factory in Kosice at the next terrin meeting.
Three more dances followed, one resulting in a further meeting for an investment opportunity in Austria and another to solidify a new distribution agreement in Czechia.
She was back with Rumi and Diana a moment later, sipping on a glass of blood-wine as she took a break between dances. Sándor stood behind them, surveying the room.
Tatyana put her empty glass on the tray of a passing server. “Who is next?”
“Ivan Sokholov,” Rumi muttered. “He was insistent, and Kezia agreed to it.”
She caught her sister’s eye as she passed on the dance floor, and Kezia only smirked.
“Ivan was determined to get a dance with one of you, and Kezia opted out first, so you’re stuck with him,” Rumi said.
“He’s a very good dancer!” Diana tried to reassure her. “Very… commanding. And according to gossip, surprisingly light on his feet.”
“Oh, what a relief.” Tatyana kept her expression blank. “I won’t have to worry about my toes being crushed while he badgers me about Khori Transport returning to Moscow.”
“Push him off without pissing him off,” Rumi said. “We don’t want to damage the relationship with the Kievan Rus, but all three of you have already decided it’s not a good idea.”
“Sándor.” She already knew what Rumi advised, and while she agreed with her assistant in nearly everything related to business, Ivan was a brute.
She wanted the opinion of someone who understood brutes.
“Yes, madam.”
“What do you think about Ivan Sokholov?”
“Ivan Sokholov is not a security threat in these circumstances.” Sándor kept his eyes on the room, constantly sweeping from one end of the ballroom to the other.
“I trust you on that, but he’s going to press for something that we are not willing to give and will expect a negotiation.”
“Are you or the other terrin willing to negotiate on this?”
They were not sending trucks back to any areas around Moscow while Ivan was still in charge.
“No,” Tatyana said firmly.
“Then be direct and businesslike. Keep it very professional, but be very direct.” Sándor glanced at Rumi. “Most of the vampires in this room understand the protocol of subtlety. Ivan does not.”
Tatyana nodded. “Understood and agreed.”
She had the fleeting thought that Oleg would like Sándor very much, and if he could, would probably poach him for his own territory.
“Thank you, Sándor.”
Her stoic security guard held out his arm. “Come, Terrin. I will escort you to the dance floor and meet Ivan Sokholov halfway.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Cede no territory.”
Sándor nodded slightly. “Exactly.”
Moving from Sándor’s steady arm to the dance floor with Ivan Sokholov felt like stepping off of firm ground and into a minefield.
He bowed.
She inclined her head.
He took her hand and gripped the small of her back.
“I understand you are an excellent dancer.” Tatyana started out with a small compliment as the music began. “Do you enjoy it?”
“I always enjoy dancing with a beautiful woman.”
“Then you are in luck,” Tatyana said with a polite smile. “The room is full of them tonight.”
Luckily, their dance was a mazurka, a lively and fast-moving dance that didn’t require as much face time as a waltz.
“You cannot be ignorant of my intentions in asking for a dance,” Ivan said.
“I endeavor to never be ignorant in anything,” Tatyana said quickly. “Ignorance would not serve my people, though it might let me conduct my immortal life with more peace.”
Ivan chuckled. “Your wit has not been overstated, Tatyana le Tala.”
Tatyana said nothing to that since it was a part of the dance that had the dancers side by side—a slight reprieve before Ivan was in her face again.
“I believe there has been an unfortunate misunderstanding between our people,” Ivan said. “The Kievan Rus has long had good relations with the Poshani.”
The flattery portion of the dance was over, it seemed. “The Poshani remain in a good relationship with the Kievan Rus, Ivan Sokholov, but we will not be changing our position on distribution activities within your territory.”
“So you will ship within Oleg’s territory but not in mine?”
A trap. “Is your territory not under the aegis of Lord Oleg Sokolov? Has there been some shift in power that has not been made public? If that is the case, Lord Oleg did not mention it during our earlier dance.”
There was a flash of anger in Ivan’s eyes. “So you will ship to any part of Oleg’s territory then?”
“We will ship to previously-agreed-upon routes within the Kievan Rus,” Tatyana countered. “Those that my brother, my sister, and I have come to a consensus on.”
“And may I ask why you offer my people what can only be considered an insult?” Ivan had lost his patience and was trying to get a reaction now.
Direct and businesslike. Sándor’s words floated into her memory.
“There is no insult.” Tatyana kept her voice nearly robotic. “There is only practicality. This is a joint decision based on the current security circumstances within your state.”
She had nearly said “small state” but decided that “direct and businesslike” did not include needless provocation.
“I see.” Ivan was clearly displeased, but since Tatyana had not reacted emotionally to his accusation of insult, he was stymied.
She caught Oleg looking at them from across the ballroom, and she wanted to reprimand him for not presenting indifference. Hopefully the rest of the ball—if they noticed his stare—only assumed that Oleg was watching his recalcitrant brother.
They were coming to a portion of the dance where she needed to put her hand on Ivan’s shoulder as he held her around the waist, so Tatyana forced her skin to remain as cold as possible no matter how her emotions stirred.
He would call her an icy, robotic vampire, and she was fine with that.
The tempo shifted, and so did the dancers.
As she turned to face him from the side, her hand on his shoulder and his on her waist, she saw his eyes fall to the brooch barely hidden by the drape of her silk headpiece.
Shit.
“What a beautiful brooch you have, Terrin Tatyana.” His eyes narrowed. “An unusual jewel.”
Damn you, Oleg. She had no idea what the brooch was. She hadn’t had time to inspect it since Oleg had secured it to her dress, and since her head covering normally covered it, no one had remarked on it.
“I enjoy unusual decoration,” Tatyana said. “I was noting the embroidery on Lord Oleg’s kaftan earlier. Yours is equally intricate. The artisans of the Kievan Rus are very skilled.”