Laszlo started talking about the river system in the Eastern and Southern Carpathians, which fed into the Black Sea. After fifteen minutes, she knew far more about the habitat of the sterlet, which was native to this part of Europe, than she’d ever thought she would.
The third course—or maybe it was a palette cleanser—was a demitasse cup of surprisingly light potato soup with spring onion and tarragon. After dropping it off, Grigoris cast her a pointed look as he followed Maxim out.
Too bad she had no idea what that look meant.
“I’m afraid talking about the mating habits of local sturgeon isn’t going to make me seem like an appealing husband,” Laszlo said.
Nikolett swallowed the sip of soup she’d taken. “A man who is passionate about his work makes an excellent spouse, unless you cannot bring at least some of that passion to your trinity.”
“I must admit I’m nervous my marriage will mean I have to give up my work.”
“Why?”
“My work means living in the forest half the year; the other half I spend in a dingy office analyzing data.” He shrugged. “I don’t think my spouses will want to join me there.”
“Are you saying you’re unwilling to relocate at least part time? They have to move to you?”
He looked genuinely alarmed. “No, Admiral.”
She raised a brow, letting the silence stretch until he felt compelled to fill it.
“I only meant that I don’t want to live apart from my spouses.” He frowned, gaze caught in the middle distance as if he were having to puzzle out the words as he spoke.
“If their work means they must stay in a major city, will I always be outside?” He huffed a laugh. “Both metaphorically and literally.”
“I see your concern.”
He sat forward, forearms braced on the table. “The most likely path for my marriage is two of my spouses will identify a major city and move there. I will join them when I can, and if I’m lucky, they might come to me once a year. It will be a trinity marriage, yes, but I will be…extra.” He sat back. “Unless I make them fall in love with me.”
Nikolett blinked.
“You disapprove, Admiral?”
“No, but I am surprised.”
“Surprised I mention love?”
“Not just love, but falling in love. Love comes, I think, with time. Falling in love is something different.”
“I agree,” he said. “If I have to live apart from my spouses, I want to be in love with them, and for them to be in love with me.”
“So they’ll miss you.”
Again his teeth flashed as he grinned. “Not just miss me, Admiral. I want them to pine for me.”
She chuckled softly as the door opened, and they turned their attention to the next course.
“For the main tonight we have mature beef with local mushrooms, caramel, and celery.”
Caramel? Nikolett eyed the beautiful plate curiously, then smiled at Maxim. Grigoris added red-wine glasses to their place settings and opened a bottle of red wine as Maxim and Laszlo discussed mushroom cultivation.
Once Maxim and Grigoris left, they ate in appreciative silence. The beef was tender and flavorful, the mushrooms buttery, and when half her plate was empty, she still wasn’t sure where the caramel was in the dish, but she didn’t doubt Maxim had done something clever and creative.
“I cannot decide,” she said as she set down her fork. “Is it mercenary or romantic that you want your spouses to fall in love with you?”
“Can’t it be both?”
“I suppose it can.” She held up one hand. “Mercenary because if they love you, they’ll miss you more and make a greater effort to bend their lives to accommodate yours.” She held up the other hand. “Romantic because you want to fall in love with them, not just have them fall in love with you.”
