“I was gathering intelligence,” Maya said hotly. “To know what I had to do to beat him!”
Volkov hummed, a wealth of amusement in the sound. “Isthatwhat you’re calling it?”
Maya said nothing for a moment, the only sound in the room was the scritching of her quill against the paper.
“How is it going there?”
Volkov sighed again. “As well as can be expected.” His voice was muffled, and she can imagine him putting his hands to his face.
“I have to go now, Maya,” he said a moment later, and she nodded, before she remembered that he couldn’t see her.
“Be careful.”
“You too,” he said softly. “You and Luka are both important to me. Be careful with each other.”
Maya chuckled, and a moment later, the glow in the crystal faded, and she knew Volkov has powered down his communicator. She would speak to him again soon enough, they had an understanding that they would talk to each other every two days at eight in the evening.
It wasn’t so clear when she would ever talk to Luka again.
It had been two weeks since Maya had left Kamenev for the Rakhmonov lands, and she was surprised at how different her own home felt after so long away.
Maya sat at her desk, her pen tapping on an empty page in the notebook in front of her. She’d known from the beginning that he would be furious when he found out about the engagement, but in her stupidity, she’d thought she would be able to mitigate his anger.
When she first taken on the task from the Crown Princess, Maya had imagined that she would rebuild her friendship with Luka, and then tell him about the engagement. He might be angry with for a while, but she’d been confident that he would forgive her, in the end.
She hadn’t expected the connection between them to spark back to life.
Maya had always known she would never marry. Even if she’d ever had any romantic imaginings in her youth, the reality of her parents’ marriage had dispelled any such longings for matrimony. She’d resigned herself to a life alone, living as a spinster inventor.
And then, Luka had come along, and pulled her into his orbit. She should have told him the truth, that very first time when they’d almost kissed. Instead, she’d gotten greedy, and she’d told herself that if she was destined to a life alone, she could take the memory of this one shining summer for herself.
She hadn’t expected Luka to fall in love with her.
She hadn’t expected to fall in love with Luka.
It had been weeks since she had seen him, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was still with her, even though he was miles away. She missed his touch, his laugh, his smile. She missed everything about him.
Maya knew that she had made a mistake, leaving him behind like that. She should’ve stayed, despite his anger, and worked things out with him.
She tried to focus on her work, but her mind kept drifting to memories of him. The way he had held her, the way he had looked at her. She felt a pang of regret every time she thought of how they had left things between them, how he had walked away from her without looking back.
But this was for the best. She never would’ve been able to marry him. She couldn’t imagine surrendering herself to another person, even one that she trusted so much as Luka. It would start out small, tiny little sacrifices that she would make for him out of love, and then it would grow and grow until the sacrifices became bigger and bigger and became true sacrifices on her part, things that she was giving up for him, until all that was left was anger and resentment.
She’d seen it happen to her parents, and she couldn’t imagine condemning Luka and herself to such a life. No, better that they never tried their hand at matrimony, than it turning out to be a failure.
And what if they were happy together, a voice whispered. You are not your mother. And Luka isn’t your father. How do you know you will be unhappy unless you try?
Well, it was all a moot point now, anyway. Luka probably hated her now, and she couldn’t blame him. No, he would marry Lady Demidova, and be happy with her. And she would be happy for him.
She quashed the pang of pain that rose in her at the thought, and looked up when there was a knock on her door.
Her mother glided into her room, and Maya smiled. Her parents had returned from their long trip to warmer climes in time for summer court at the capital, the first time that her mother would be attending, as well. The occasion was doubly important, with the sudden announcement that a treaty had been signed with the Kingdom of Tellluria. The war was finally over, and the Tsar was throwing a ball to celebrate.
“Good morning, Maya,” her mother said, passing a gentle hand over her hair.
It seemed the trip away had done her parents a world of good, they both were less unhappy in themselves, and quicker to smile.
But the fact that it was her mother’s first season in the capital meant that Maya was expected to accompany her to balls and dances, when she was not the least in the mood to mingle and socialize.
