“At least this time they’re allowing us to be on the same team.” Tatyana leaned over to Oleg on the slightly raised platform where they were eating and drinking in the center of the tent as musicians played, people danced along the perimeter, and copious amounts of caviar were being served.
“I’m glad your prowess with the mallet will not be turned against your new husband,” Oleg said. “I believe Oksana’s nose is still mending.”
She glanced at Oksana and Ludmila, who were sitting with Kezia and some of Oleg’s druzhina. “It is not. She looks divine.”
Indeed, much of the fun of this wedding banquet was trying to guess from where and when the guests were dressed.
Oksana wore a floor-length black-and-white dress with red embroidery, a wide belt, and a richly decorated shawl and headdress while Ludmila wore a traditional Russian ensemble ofdark red sarafan and—while she did not wear a kokoshnik—she had her long hair braided in a crown and a pearl-and-gold net decorated her forehead.
“I have never seen Ludmila wearing a dress,” Oleg said. “Perhaps ever.”
“Love makes you do strange things,” Tatyana said. “She looks magnificent.”
Oleg frowned. “Oksana definitely talked her into this.”
“And how about your brothers?” Tatyana looked to the left of Kezia’s table. “They appear to be having a good time with Radu.”
Indeed, her brother was hosting Truvor’s sons at his personal table. Rudov and Pavel, Ivan, Lazlo, and Lev were all there, and there were five bottles of blood-wine and countless bottles of vodka that all appeared to be empty.
“I’d say it is a good thing that they cannot become intoxicated,” Tatyana said.
“Rudov does love his vodka.”
As the banquet progressed, Tatyana and Oleg remained at the center of the tent as Mika, Sándor, and Rumi guided guests to greet them and exchange congratulations and ever more elaborate wedding gifts.
There was a solid silver tea set and two towering blown glass sculptures. There were bars of solid gold and silver from the less artistic and stacked boxes of blood-wine and caviar on ice. Tatyana was fairly sure she saw at least two Fabergé eggs in glass boxes.
Dear God. The wealth on display was astonishing. Tatyana felt mildly nauseated.
She leaned toward Oleg. “We are donating several million euros to the food bank here in Saint Petersburg.”
Oleg shrugged. “If you would like.”
“I insist.”
Sándor approached with Mika, and they both knelt near Oleg and Tatyana as Rumi stood at her side, guarding their privacy.
“There are rumors circulating that your political marriage is a clever ruse to cover a personal connection,” Mika said. “But no one actually seems bothered by the idea.”
Sándor glanced at Mika and nodded. “At least among the Poshani, the idea that you fell in love over the last month of festivities seems to be quite popular.”
“Oh!” Rumi smiled. “I love that. That’s a wonderful story.”
Mika rolled his eyes. “Poshani are so romantic.”
Sándor narrowed his eyes. “So I suppose I did not see Oleg’s brother Lev wiping tears from his eyes while he was watching the old Poshani couple dancing.”
Oleg muttered, “Lev has always been soft.”
Rumi said, “I would like to meet Lev.”
“In summary, Ivan’s rumors have taken root, but the effect seems to be less concerned with your apparent deception and more enamored with the idea of a romance,” Mika said. “For now.”
Sándor nodded. “Give it time and there could be more whispers about Tatyana’s loyalty.”
She turned to Oleg. “I’m going to absolutely gut you on the next business contract. You’ve been warned.”
He nodded. “I look forward to drawing blood in negotiations.” He glanced at Mika. “Anything else?”
