Chapter 8 Tatyana #2
“Indeed they are.” They shifted back to facing each other, but Ivan’s eyes were still fixed on her shoulder. “As talented as the artist who must have made your brooch. May I ask who created such a stunning piece?”
“You may, but I cannot tell you.” Tatyana stared over his shoulder, feigning disinterest. “It was a gift to the Poshani.”
“I see. May I ask from whom? If they are still living, I may want to see a piece commissioned.”
“Hmm.” She forced her face to remain impassive. The mazurka was coming to a close. Finally. “I will have to ask. If I can discover the maker, I will be sure to tell my secretary to send a note.”
“I would appreciate the courtesy.” Despite her impassive face and disinterested tone of voice, Ivan’s eyes were gleaming in victory.
Damn, damn, damn. What had she given away? Why hadn’t Oleg warned her?
In situations like this, every detail was layered in meaning, from the colors on her hem to the styles she and Kezia chose to wear. Jewelry wasn’t only decoration—it was an unspoken message.
The orchestra gave one last flourish, and Tatyana could finally pull away from Ivan’s clutches. She clapped politely, glancing around the room and looking for Sándor.
He was already headed her way.
“Ivan Sokholov, I appreciate the dance,” Tatyana said. “May the rest of your time here in Budapest be pleasant, and please give my regards to your lord.”
“Oh, I will.” Ivan’s smirk sent a ripple of irritation down her neck. “And give my regards to your family, Tatyana le Tala.”
“Thank you.” She started toward Sándor but paused when Ivan’s words reached her ears.
“The Poshani are known for their devotion and loyalty to their own people above all others,” Ivan said. “I have always admired that.”
She glanced over her shoulder, but Ivan was already walking away.
“A problem?” Sándor asked as she slipped her arm into his.
“Ivan? He is always a problem.”
“Did he bring up Vano?”
“No, but I think he knows about… him.”
Sándor didn’t need to be told who “him” was. “How?”
“I don’t know,” Tatyana said. “But somehow he knows.”
She took a break for the next two dances to spend a moment in the women’s dressing room to fix the rouge on her lips, take a breath, and also to finally inspect the brooch Oleg had placed on her dress.
It was a firebird of course.
The body was a large faceted ruby of deepest red, and the rest of the brooch was cast in gold. There were tiny onyx eyes and a flare of blue, red, and green enameled feathers spraying out from the body of the brooch in what could only be described as a mosaic pattern.
A mosaic firebird. How very subtle, my love.
Tatyana sighed, but she didn’t remove it. If she did, Ivan would no doubt notice and it would confirm his suspicions if they weren’t confirmed already.
“Tatyana?” Diana found her in the dressing room. “Your next…” Her eyes landed on the brooch. “That’s stunning. I didn’t buy it for you.”
“It’s mine,” Tatyana said quickly. “A last-minute addition. A gift from some time ago.” Some time being roughly an hour. “I don’t think it interrupts the lines of the dress, does it?”
“No, it’s perfect.” Diana appeared flustered. “I only wish I’d thought to place a jewel there myself. I’m so very sorry you felt your costume for tonight was insufficient.” She bowed deeply. “My apologies, Terrin.”
“None are needed, Diana.” She rushed to reassure the usually confident woman. “It was a sentimental choice on my part. Please don’t be concerned at all.”
“Of course.” Diana’s cheeks were a little flushed, and she kept glancing at the brooch. “If you are ready, the son of the Fire King has scheduled a moment of your time in substitution for a dance since he…” She held out her hands.
“Of course.” Tatyana smiled. “I would be delighted to share a drink with Samson.” Her old friend wasn’t a keen dancer since he used his hands instead of his tongue to speak.
She followed Diana out of the dressing room and saw Samson waiting next to Sándor and Rumi.
He caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. Then he lifted his hands to speak. This is all very tiring.
Tatyana smiled and signed back to him. You don’t get tired and neither do I.
You know what I mean.
Yes, but we all have our jobs to do.
The ballroom was crowded and noisy, so being able to communicate with signing was delightfully convenient.
Blood-wine? Samson gestured to a passing server.
No, I have already fed enough, she signed back. Champagne maybe? The light white wine was delightful to her sensitive taste buds.
Samson grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing server and then nodded toward a pair of chairs nearby.
“I will see you shortly, Diana. Who is next on my schedule?”
“The Tajik prince, but you have a break for your time with Arosh’s court.”
“Of course.”
There were half a dozen dances left in the night, and every one was filled save for five breaks Rumi had insisted on so Tatyana could mingle among the attendees or simply be alone.
She walked over to Samson and sat in a royal-blue upholstered chair. He’d placed their champagne on the small table between them.
“Cheers.” She picked up the crystal flute and clinked it with Samson’s before she drank. The sparkling wine hit her tongue, and the bright taste flooded her senses.
“This is lovely.” She looked at the chairs. “I prefer this.”
Samson sat back, appearing to lounge in the seat. As do I.
She set her drink down and switched to the more discreet signing he preferred. I think I have ten minutes.
The same.
Have you been busy?
Yes. Luckily, all I have to do is listen to my dance partners and not make conversation.
Tatyana smiled. But he wants you here anyway?
Kato and Alexander aren’t available for the social events anymore, and you know how popular they were at these things.
Her mentor, Kato the ancient water vampire, had finally left the court of the Fire King with his long-term partner Alexander. They had taken residence on a small island in the Aegean and were enjoying their solitude according to the last letter she’d received from Kato.
She lifted her champagne to enjoy a drink. “So you have to fill in the gap?”
He doesn’t care if I negotiate any deals as long as we put in an appearance. And all the gods know I do not want him attending these things.
“Why not?”
He might get ideas about other ways I could serve the court.
She took another drink. “Business envoy? Don’t you love spreadsheets as much as I do?”
Hardly. Samson nodded at the familiar figure of Oleg, who was dancing with a woman wearing a bright yellow dress. This is her last event before the marriage her sire just approved.
Tatyana smiled. “Who is she marrying?”
Samson leaned forward. Her sire’s new shipping partner.
Her smile fell, and she set her champagne flute down. So not a love match?
Samson shrugged. Political marriages were the custom of vampires just as they were the custom of humans for millennia. Apparently they are coming back in vogue. I’m surprised Kezia hasn’t considered one given the Poshani’s unique situation. She’s not sentimental.
The Poshani were an independent vampire clan, but they had no permanent territory, which necessitated a constant negotiation of treaties and alliances.
“Interesting,” she murmured, watching the woman dancing with Oleg.
He was being his usual charming self, but there was nothing behind his eyes other than boredom from what she could see.
Samson snapped his fingers to get her attention.
She rolled her eyes. I told you I hate snapping.
I’m not him.
And that was the sticking point.
Samson might have been an old friend, but that didn’t mean he was indifferent to Tatyana. Once, he had suggested a political marriage of sorts between them, offering her protection in Arosh’s court.
And if Oleg hadn’t been stuck in her blood and her heart, she might have considered it. It was one of the reasons that she’d never told Samson that she and Oleg had married. Samson knew they had been involved, but he had no idea they still were or that they were blood mates.
I would be surprised if he didn’t marry. Samson nodded at Oleg. He has before. With a territory that big, it makes sense.
She picked up her champagne again and studiously kept her eyes off Oleg. “What does that even mean for vampires? Taking eternal vows seems a bit… human.”
A human indulgence she’d participated in not four years before with the man dancing a waltz with the woman in yellow.
Usually there is a contract. A set term for the marriage with some kind of… Samson hesitated for a moment. …kind of an extension clause if the alliance is performing to everyone’s satisfaction.
“I see.” She raised her eyebrows and lifted her champagne glass. “I salute the woman who wants to take on the knyaz of the Kievan Rus. She would have to be a patient woman indeed.”
If rumors are true, she is very patient.
There was a stab of ice in Tatyana’s chest, and the water in the room drew to her skin. “Rumors?”
Samson nodded. It might be just talk, but there are rumors that Oleg is already planning to take a wife.
“Hmm.” Rumors could come from everywhere or nowhere. Perhaps the rumors were that he was already married. Had the news trickled out somehow and then been twisted in the transmission? “So who is the very patient woman? Or man. I shouldn’t assume.” She forced herself to smile.
The music had switched as another dance started, and Samson nodded toward the dance floor. Her, of course. It makes sense. They’re both very powerful, and an alliance between them would mean control of nearly all the Black Sea. A smart move for both of them if you ask me.
Tatyana looked up to see Oleg spinning around the dance floor, wearing a smile.
Once again with the vampire queen of Georgia, Alina Machabeli, laughing in his arms.