They were around the same age, though Rumi was a mother—divorced now—of two delightful children who called Tatyana “Bibi Tanya.”
Rumi shared custody with her ex, who had not taken kindly to Rumi gaining status in the clan that he didn’t share.
It had been nearly four years since they split, and Rumi wasn’t bitter about it anymore. Her ex-husband had stayed working for the kamvasa, and the children spent all summer with him. During the school year, they were with Rumi and their grandparents in Warsaw.
“So Budapest.” Rumi sat down with her glass of wine. “I’m assuming he’s going to be there.”
“You should have seen Kezia in the meeting.” Tatyana closed her eyes as the blood-wine hit her throat, soothing the low burn that had been gathering. “So offended on my behalf.”
“That’s okay. Your mate is pretty offensive at times.”
“Ha!” Tatyana smiled. Other than her mother, Rumi was the only person who knew the truth about her and Oleg. “If she ever finds out the truth about us…”
“She will have to deal with it.” Rumi sipped her wine. “Are you going to tell him you’re going?”
Tatyana froze, her blood-wine dangling from her fingertips. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know.” Rumi smiled. “He surprises you all the time, showing up unannounced. It might be fun to surprise him for once.”
“He might find out anyway,” Tatyana said.
Rumi shrugged. “And he might not. He’s probably been to a hundred of these summits. Maybe a thousand.”
“I don’t think the Báthory Summit has been around for two thousand years, Rumi.”
“All I’m saying is, if he doesn’t bring it up, maybe you shouldn’t either.”
“Why not?” She smiled. “That might be fun.”
“I don’t wantto hear about business.” Oleg leaned toward the screen. “Tell me what you’re doing for you.”
“For me?” Tatyana was so bad at this. She was talking to Oleg on a screen, and she wanted to be seeing him in person. “I’m… reading.”
“Good. What are you reading?”
She took a deep breath. “Eh… it’s not that interesting.”
“Then why are you reading it?”
“Because it’s useful. It’s a book about how interest rates shape economic results, and it’s written by?—”
“Tatyana.” He looked disappointed.
“It’s very relevant to international?—”
“Don’t make me invade Poland to take care of you.” He leaned toward the screen. “You need to spend more time at the country house with your mother. Let her cook for you. Take Rumi and her children and spend some time away from work. Swim in the lakes.”
“It’s freezing outside, Oleg.”
“You’re a vampire, do you really care?”
She only liked making herself really cold if she could go inside and have her husband wrap his burning arms around her. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. It was hard enough already.
“I’ll go to Wilga this weekend,” she said. “Will that satisfy you?”
“No,” he muttered. “But until I make you my queen, it will have to do.”
Tatyana said nothing. It was a sore subject, but one that they both recognized was not something they could fix at the present moment. “Are you at the castle?”
