Page 121 of Crowned

Elyah puts his arms around Viktoria and she settles her cheek against his shoulder. His gaze toward my grandmother has grown chilly. “She is my daughter. I love all my children. Please do not say that she is not.”

Babulyawatches him for a long moment, but he’s not backing down or looking away. Then she nods slowly. “Of course. I apologize. You have very beautiful children. All of you.”

Elyah nods. “Yes, we do.”

“Thank you,” Konstantin murmurs as the tension breaks. He flicks a glance at me as if wondering if I’m sweating.

Just a little bit.

Her talk of home has me wondering about something. “Whatever happened to Maxim Vavilov’s father? I realize that we never heard from him again after he sent assassins to Prague.” Surely he wouldn’t have just given up on avenging his son.

Babulyamakes atsknoise and waves a dismissive hand. “He had an accident. It is no loss.”

Kirill is smirking to himself. Konstantin takes a sip of his tea, his expression placid. I’m instantly suspicious.

“An accident, you say. What kind of accident?”

My husbands exchange glances but say nothing.

Babulyabreaks the silence. “I will say it. He was drunk one morning and was run over by a garbage truck. His head exploded like a pumpkin.” She eyes Kirill. “I was pleased to hear when it happened. It made an old woman happy to know the man who tried to kill my granddaughter and great-granddaughter had to be scraped off his driveway.”

I wince at the mental image.

As usual, Kirill is untidily dressed and sitting with his knees spread. The pair of jeans he’s wearing are artfully ripped. I wonder ifBabulyais about to scold him.

She nods at his ripped jeans. “Give me those pants tonight. I will fix them for you.”

Kirill laughs. “My jeans? I bought them this way.”

“You bought pants that are already ruined?”

“How else will people know that I have stars tattooed on my knees?”

She shakes her head. “What a strange man. In my day, we would have been ashamed to wear torn clothes.”

Kirill switches to Russian and stretches his arms over his head. “I have been poor,Babulya. I was treated like dirt in my hometown. Now I have decided to have no shame, and I am happier this way.”

She gives him a shrewd look. Finally she says, “We are both a long way from home.”

“And I am thankful every day for that fact.” He reaches out and brushes a forefinger over Mila’s cheek and murmurs to her.

I sneak a glance atBabulya’sface and see how it has softened as she watches Kirill with the baby.

Finally, she turns to Konstantin. “This is your house. You have an old woman living here,Pakhan. Will it drive you crazy to have yet another woman under your roof?”

Konstantin places his tea glass on the coffee table and threads his fingers together. “Once upon a time we were sitting at your kitchen table and you slapped my face. I don’t plan on giving you any reason to slap me a second time.”

I feel my eyebrows shoot up. No one told me that part of the story.

“Will you make things hard for an old woman because she slapped you?”

Konstantin shakes his head. “You are under my protection. If anyone talks to you the way I talked to you that day in your own house, then you must tell me and I will deal with it.” He glances at me, and his grim expression melts away. “You make our Lilia happy. You are welcome here as long as you like. You are more than welcome because you are family.”

“How is your own family?”Babulyaasks.

Konstantin smiles at her and rubs the scar on his temple. “A mess. Worse than a mess. So I love this one very much. It’s the only one that matters to me anymore.”

Babulyarelaxes and sits back a little, and I feel relieved that the interrogation is finally over and everyone has passed.

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