Iskra stood at the top of the stairs, wringing her hands. I flicked my hand to bring her down.
I couldn’t understand the dress. She usually wore thick cardigans over modest cuts. This had two thin straps and those breasts could poke someone’s eyes out. Her hair did very little to contain the situation.
“I don’t think we should leave Runa,” she said, hesitantly slipping an arm through her coat.
I had missed the coat hanging from her arm entirely.
Perhaps the dress was old and her breasts were larger now. Both were plausible.
“Nonsense,” Konstantin said.“You two go and have fun—we’re all here.”
Olya was staying overnight. Breast milk in the fridge. An arsenal of weapons inside the house and beside the gates. Runa was in safer hands than most heads of state.
Her heels clicked on the floor as she went to find Olya in the kitchen.
“She cleans up well,” Konstantin murmured.
I caught him looking at her calves. Everything else was covered but that was beside the point. I slapped him on the back of the head.
“What was that for?” he growled, rubbing the spot.
“She is your sister,” I said, removing a piece of lint from my jacket.
He snorted. Then laughed.
I strode past him and down the hall to extract Iskra from Olya.
“Wait. What if—” she began.
“We’re leaving. Runa has everything she needs. Nothing will happen,” I said, and walked her out.
My men moved immediately—two flanking our back, one running ahead to the car.
“Have fun,” Konstantin said, and shut the door firmly behind us.
“I’ve never left her before,” Iskra said, trying to look back as we reached the car.“Well. Not willingly.”
“Why are my breasts on display?” I demanded, crossing my arms and tapping my foot on the gravel.
Her eyes widened. Her lips parted. She raised her purse.
I stuffed her into the car before she could deploy it, smiling at the words she used on the way in.
??????
It was pleasant having Iskra out of the house.
Though I hadn’t fully accounted for how attractive she was outside of it.
Her curves filled her dress in ways they hadn’t before—her body changed by Runa in ways I hadn’t been paying attention to because I hadn’t thought to buy her anything new. A reasonable oversight. Sending Iskra unsupervised onto the internet to shop presented its own category of risk, given her previous relationship with online purchasing and unstable chemicals.
The symmetry of her face was pleasing. Perfect bow-tipped lips—Runa’s lips, I realised, or rather Runa had hers—and the kind of face that functioned equally well expressing contempt or saying nothing at all. Both of which she deployed regularly.
I was still thinking about those lips when she placed her water on the table.
Yes. Iskra had been right about missing Runa. I hadn’t anticipated how uncomfortable I would feel taking my daughter’s mother away for the evening. Work was different. Work was a necessity. I was still reconciling exactly when a six-and-a-half-month-old baby had begun dictating the shape of my day when Iskra set her glass down.
“I need to visit the ladies’bathroom,” she said.
