Page 50 of A War Apart

“Flatterer,” she accused.

He raised his hands in surrender. “The moon has a harsher burn than the sun. I shall flee the night in favor of the day.”He turned his back on her. “There’s a dance planned tonight in the greenhouse, Sofia Stepanova. For the servants and trade workers. I hope you’ll come?”

Izolda answered for me. “She’ll be there.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s been a long day, and I’m a bit tired.” I’d spent the day unpacking and organizing my workshop. A dance sounded like the last thing I wanted to do.

She gave me a meaningful look around Alexey. “It’s the perfect way to get settled in. You can get to know some people, start building a reputation. The best way to get any orders is to get to know the servants. You won’t get anywhere at court if Lady Heli’s your only client.”

I bit my lip. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, for a little bit.”

“Wonderful!” Alexey clapped his hands together. “If you’ll excuse me, I see someone I must speak with.” He stood and gathered his plate. “I’ll see you both tonight.”

As he left, Izolda turned a mischievous grin on me.

“What?”

“I think he likes you.”

“Hm.” I mopped the juices on my plate with a piece of black bread. “He seemed like a flirt.”

She laughed. “I’ve known Alexey for years. He’s sweet. A bit dramatic, but he’s loyal and kind.” She paused. “And good-looking, too.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sweet or not, I’m not interested. I’m here to work.”

“Building contacts is excellent for your work, as I said. And I have a feeling Alexey would be more than willing to…’build contacts’ with you.”

I flushed. Alexey Grigorovich was attractive, yes, but I was married. Not that Izolda knew that.

Milawas married. Sofia wasn’t.

Before I could organize my thoughts enough to answer, someone approached and whispered in Izolda’s ear. She pushed her plate back and stood. “Lady Heli just left. Give me a bit to get her settled for the night, and I’ll meet you at your room. We can get ready together.”

***

It took two hours of preparation before Izolda pronounced me ready. My sarafan, a warm yellow that complemented my dark skin beautifully, had a belt of red to match the long-sleeved red shirt that showed beneath the dress. A matching povyazka decorated my hair, and my tightly coiled braids had been woven together into a rope down my back.

We walked through the frigid night air into the greenhouse, where we were ushered inside. A band played in the corner, and dozens of people danced among beds of fragrant and exotic flowers I’d never seen before.

“Come on!” Izolda pulled me toward the dancers.

Before I could protest, we were swept up into the dance. It was familiar, a fast-paced tune called a kazachok that I’d danced many times before. A young man about Yakov’s age partnered me, his brown face lit up with a smile. I laughed as we spun around, breathless from the exertion.

Too soon, the song ended, the band transitioning seamlessly into a much slower tune. My smiling partner melted back into the crowd of dancers. Izolda had disappeared, but I wasn’t left alone for long.

“If it isn’t the fair sun, Sofia Stepanova,” Alexey Grigorovich said, taking my hand and pulling me into the new dance.

“Izolda insisted I come.” I half-shrugged as he led me in a wide circle, following the other dancers.

“I’m glad she did. It would be a tragedy to deprive everyone of seeing the most beautiful woman at court.”

I laughed despite myself. “I believe Izolda was right, sir. You are a flatterer.”

“You wound me, madam.” He didn’t look wounded, with his wide grin showing all his white teeth. “I speak nothing but the truth.”

I raised my eyebrows in doubt but elected not to answer. The movements of the dance drew us apart.

“How long have you worked for Lady Heli?” he asked when we came back together.

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