When the crew opens the door, cold air slips into the cabin in a soft roll. Leo stands up on the seat, wobbly with excitement, and I lift him before he can somersault down the aisle. He clamps onto me automatically, arms tight aroundmy neck and legs cinched at my waist like he’s been doing it for years.
As we deboard, Lettie and Ivy follow after us, their light chattering and giggles filling my heart with warmth. Leo’s eyes are wide as he takes the sights in. His head is on a swivel, his voice soft as he whispers countless questions in my ear. “Wow, is this place all yours? Are those your soldiers? Do you have dogs? How many cars do you have? Do you live in a castle?”
I chuckle, unable to help the wide grin that stretches across my face from his endless curiosity. “I don’t owneverything, but this city answers to me. Once we get home, you’ll see everything that belongs to our family.”
“My dad’s homeland…” he says, rolling the phrase around in his mouth. The awe in his voice punches straight through my ribs. I wasn’t prepared for how disarming it would be, a child making my country feel new again just by their child-like wonder.
On the runway, a car waits for us.
I settle Leo into the backseat, strapping him in. He chatters through the buckle clicks, a running stream of questions and claims to many things. He will learn Russian in one week (very inspiring). He will eat dumplings every day for the rest of his life (possible). He will pet a bear he finds in the woods outside the estate (no). He will share his room with a wolf he befriends, also found in the woods (alsono).
Ivy and I let him ramble as we climb into the cab on either side of him. Lettie takes up residence in the front seat to talk with my driver, clearly determined to kickstart her Russian romance story already.
Traffic is sparse when we leave the tarmac and head into the city.
When the car arrives at my family’s estate and turns through the wrought-iron gates, the trees open to reveal the main house. Leo’s eyes are wide with wonder, his mouth open in disbelief.
The stone façade rises out of the snow like it was placed there by hand from another century. Wings extend in either direction, glass throwing the dull winter light back as us. Fresh tire tracks arc up the circular drive. The fountain in the center is sheathed in ice, frozen horses rearing.
“It’s a castle!” Leo declares.
“Something like that,” I reply, smiling.
When the cars stop, I step out first and hold out my arms. He hurls himself into them without hesitation, laughing hard as his breath clouds in front of him. Readjusting him in my arms, I hold a hand back inside the cab, waiting until Ivy takes it. She steps out of the car, a deep exhale leaving her.
When she smiles, her shoulders relax. “Wow. Just like I never left.”
Her hair is tugged by the wind, cheeks flushed pink from the cold air. She comes in close, and before I can ask if she’s cold or overwhelmed or both, she hooks her fingers into the lapel of my jacket and tugs me down for a kiss.
For a second, the sound of the car engine rumbling behind us, and the muffled steps of the staff coming out the front doors to grab our luggage out of the trunk to bring it up to our rooms, Lettie’s soft and delighted gasp, even Leo’s“ewwwwww”fade until there is only the pressure of her lips against mine.
When she pulls back from me, her soft laugh ghosts against my lips. “Is it cheesy of me to suggest you should’ve proposed to me out here? I forgot how gorgeous this property is. I know I already said yes, but…”
“Save your answer, then,” I murmur, my forehead touching hers. “We’ll have a re-do. One I can do properly on my knee with a ring. Something ridiculous you’ll make fun of for the rest of my life.”
She giggles—a genuine, unguarded sound that undoes me. She slips away from me, lifting Leo out of my arms to spin him around. He shrieks with laughter. Lettie joins them, spinning around as snow kicks up under her feet.
Eventually, we make it inside.
Staff line the entryway, black suits and pressed dresses, faces I trust and faces I’m still teaching how to be worthy of that word. They bow, murmuring “Dobro pozhalovat” as they make space for us to pass.
Behind them—arrayed like a living version of the wall I’ve promised to protect my family behind—my inner circle stands waiting.
“Welcome home,Pakhan,” Lev says, nodding his head toward us. His eyes flick to Ivy, softening in that imperceptible way only I would notice after years of reading him. No one else would catch it, but I see it—a barely-there drop in his guard, a tilt of something like respect for the woman he pushed me to get back. “And welcome to you both, Ivy. Leo.”
Then Lev’s attention shifts again, this time to the girl standing just behind Ivy standing close to a large potted plant she’s nearly knocked over twice. His eyes narrow, just enough for me to notice the bare tension in his jaw. He doesn’t say a word, but I feel the shift. That’s Lev for you—disapproval wrapped in stoicism.
Ivy doesn’t miss it.
Of course she doesn’t.
She steps forward slightly, tilting her chin up in that way I’ve come to know means she’s about to challengeanyonewho so much as breathes the wrong way in her family’s direction. She keeps her tone pleasant, even warm, but the iron threaded through it is obvious.
“This is my sister, Lettie,” she says with an elegant sweep of her hand. “She’ll be staying here for a while. I’m sure everyone will welcome her with open arms?”
She lets the words hang in the air, a gauntlet thrown between them. The silence that follows is heavy.
Lev doesn’t flinch.
