"Thank you."
"I've been considering," she set down her teacup, her gaze gentle, "perhaps it's time you became involved in family affairs. Kholod carries an enormous burden, and many responsibilities require our support. You must fully understand how this family functions and what protocols govern us."
I was stunned. "You mean..."
"Naturally, this will require preparation time. You may ready yourself accordingly."
"I'll prepare thoroughly."
She nodded approvingly, then her tone warmed. "Do visit me more often for conversation. Anya is constantly occupied with her design company. You could share discoveries from organizing the collection, or discuss your artistic insights. I was passionate about art in my youth, though I was forced to abandon it later."
A flicker of wistfulness crossed her features before quickly fading.
"I will," I said sincerely. "Thank you... Mother?"
"Oh, maybe just Ana." My form of address brought a soft smile to her face. "Go now, rest well."
In the hallway, I encountered Anya heading upstairs. Seeing me, she paused mid-step.
"Anya," I called out.
She turned, eyebrows drawing together slightly. "What?"
I approached quickly, withdrawing a folded paper from my dress pocket.
"This is for you." I felt nervous butterflies. "I often see you browsing jewelry magazines. While cataloging the collection, Inoticed the iris pattern on the Faberge egg was stunning, so I sketched out a design. Perhaps it might inspire you."
Anya unfolded the paper with suspicion. I'd merged classical iris motifs with contemporary lines, creating a brooch design with careful notations about petal layering and gemstone placement.
She studied it for so long I was certain she'd tear it up and fling it back at me.
"It's... okay, I suppose." Her tone remained frigid.
But I noticed her fingertips delicately tracing the paper's edges, the gesture almost reverent.
"If you don't care for it—"
"Who said I don't care for it?" She interrupted sharply, turning away with obvious discomfort. "I didn't say it was terrible."
She carefully refolded the paper and tucked it into her handbag, securing the zipper.
"Well... thanks." Her voice was barely audible.
"You're welcome." I smiled warmly.
Anya regarded me with a complex expression, seeming about to speak, but ultimately just turned and ascended the stairs.
Back in my room behind closed doors, I leaned against the wood and exhaled deeply. The warmth blooming in my chest told me this house was gradually opening its arms to embrace me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kholod
"Boss, there's a meeting at three this afternoon about the East Coast collaboration—"
"Reschedule it." I cut Dmitri off, snapping the file shut in front of me. "They're still being evasive. We don't need to push."
"Understood."
