"Wife," he murmurs.
"Husband," I reply.
The words feel strange on my tongue. Strange and wonderful and absolutely right.
***
The reception is warm and intimate.
We've set up tables in the main hall, decorated with more flowers from the greenhouse. The food is exquisite—Mrs. Novak has outdone herself—and the champagne flows freely, though I'm restricted to sparkling cider. The baby kicks in protest at the sweetness.
Kira finds me between courses, Alexander asleep against her shoulder.
"How are you feeling?" she asks, settling into the chair beside me. "Besides overwhelmed, I mean."
"Is it that obvious?"
"Only to someone who's been there." She smiles, adjusting Alexander's blanket. "I remember my wedding day. I kept waiting for something to go wrong, for someone to burst in and destroy everything. It took me months to stop looking over my shoulder."
"Does it get easier?"
"It does. Not because the dangers go away, but because you learn to live with them. You learn to trust that he'll keep you safe." She glances across the room to where Dmitri and Misha are deep in conversation. "They're not easy men to love. But they love fiercely, completely. Once you're theirs, nothing in the world can touch you."
I follow her gaze, watching Misha laugh at something Dmitri says. It's still strange to see him like this—relaxed, happy, surrounded by the people he cares about. The cold, controlled man I met at the auction seems like a distant memory.
"Thank you," I say. "For understanding."
"We're family now." Kira squeezes my hand. "That's what family does."
Dmitri gives a toast that's exactly what I expected—dry, understated, vaguely threatening to anyone who might wish us harm. "To my brother and his bride," he says, raising his glass. "May their enemies be few and their happiness be great."
Anna's toast is longer, more emotional. She talks about watching Misha close himself off after their parents died, about years of worry and frustration, about finally seeing him comealive again. "Bianca," she says, her voice cracking, "you gave me my brother back. I will never be able to thank you enough."
Then there's dancing.
Misha leads me to the center of the floor as the music starts—something slow and classical, chosen for its simplicity. My belly makes traditional positioning impossible, but we manage, swaying together in a way that's less about technique and more about closeness.
"I didn't know you could dance," I say.
"There are many things you don't know about me."
"I'm looking forward to learning them all."
His hand spreads across my lower back, pulling me as close as my bump allows. "We have time now. A lifetime."
"A lifetime," I echo.
The word feels enormous. Terrifying and wonderful all at once.
***
The guests leave as evening falls.
Dmitri clasps Misha's hand, exchanges a few quiet words I don't hear. Kira hugs me carefully, mindful of my belly, and promises to bring Alexander for a visit soon. "Our children will grow up together," she says. "They'll be family."
Anna hugs me so tightly I can barely breathe, whispers "Welcome to the family" in my ear, then disappears into the night. Mrs. Novak and Alexei and the others drift away, leaving us alone in the candlelit hall.
"Come with me," Misha says.
