“What is this rumor I hear of you marrying the Georgian queen?” Ludmila spat out. “People were saying that contracts were signed in Budapest. It is all anyone in Moscow is talking about.”
“It’s just that.” Oleg walked over and perched on a corner of the library table. “A rumor. It’s good to see your shining faces. How are you both enjoying Moscow?”
“Oh, fuck off.” Ludmila grumbled. “I hate hearing rumors like that because they always seem to have just a kernel of truth.”
“The kernel of truth is that Iammarried.” Oleg leaned forward. “But I have no plans to become a bigamist. My questionable moral code isn’t that flexible.”
“Yes, it is,” Ludmila said. “Bigamy would be nothing if it served your purposes.”
Oleg shrugged. “Perhaps, but it does not.”
Mika walked into the library behind Oleg. “This particular rumor is likely Ivan’s bullshit.” He lowered his voice and put on a thick Moscow accent. “Hello, my fellow comrades.” He spread his arms wide, as if to envelop both Oksana and Ludmila in an embrace.
Oksana laughed a little, and Ludmila flipped him off.
Oleg moved to his favorite wingback chair as his three boyars pulled up seats around him. He had started a fire in the hearth before the conference call, so the cold chill of the castle was slightly cut, but not by much.
Despite the weather, Ludmila was wearing a short-sleeved black shirt and a pair of combat pants.
Mika was also in black. With their matching clothes and similar expressions, Mika and Ludmila could have been siblings save for Mika’s slim height and Ludmila’s diminutive frame.
Oksana, on the other hand, tall and broad shouldered, had donned a bright red sweater to match her red lipstick.
Oleg smiled. It was a pleasure to have Oksana in any room. “My dear, how are you?”
“I don’t love the winter in Moscow,” she confessed. “But your house in the city is very nice. Thank you for letting us stay there.”
“You are welcome anytime.”
“We know the truth about Tatyana,” Oksana said, “so hearing the rumors came as a surprise. People seem very split on the idea.”
“You and Ludmila, Mika, Lazlo, and Omar are the only ones who know I am married and who my wife is,” Oleg said. “Ican’t deny the rumors without bringing more attention to them, which is likely what whoever started the rumors wants.”
“Personally, I think Alina started the marriage rumors,” Oksana said. “I suspect she wants to raise her profile. Though I do think she is pursuing a political marriage contract, I don’t think she has her eye on you.”
Oleg nodded solemnly. “Why do you think she started it?”
Oksana was young, but she was perceptive. “I am hearing Arosh’s name more, even in Moscow. I believe the Fire King is feeling confined.”
“He already has, like… tons of territory,” Ludmila said. “Everyone thought he was dead a decade ago. Why the fuck does he need more territory when he was just dead?”
“Because hewasdead,” Oleg said. “And before that, he was emperor of a vast land. Oksana could very well be correct. All of Alina’s territory used to be Arosh’s center of power. She is feeling pressure having such an ancient on her border. She knows that if Arosh wanted her territory back, he could take it.”
“Do you want to know what I think?” Ludmila asked. “I think we’re hearing Arosh’s name in Moscow because the Fire King is quietly backing Ivan. I think he wants Ivan to unseat you because then all Arosh will have to do is kill Ivan to take your empire and killing Ivan is far easier than killing you.”
Oleg nodded. “Yes, that is also possible.”
“Fuck this, boss.” Ludmila’s petulant expression never changed. “Let’s kill Ivan now. You’re strong enough to hold the empire together. In a decade, Ivan’s death would be nothing. Then we can go in and kill all the other little Ivans he sired, because if I have to figure out which Ivan is which” —Ludmila clapped her hands together— “every” —slap— “single” —slap— “time I visit Moscow, I’m going to kill someone.”
Oksana said, “You’ll kill someone anyway.”
“Who names most of their sons after themselves?” Ludmila shouted. “Not even Truvor did that. He is a fucking egomaniac, and I’m just…verytired of him.” She sighed and slumped in her seat. “Please can I put a bullet through his neck? I promise I will not miss his spine.”
Oleg reached over and patted Ludmila’s hand. “I know you won’t.”
“Is that a yes?”
“No, that’s not a yes.” Oleg thought about Ivan dancing with Tatyana, then patronizing her in front of his governors. “Yet.”
