Page 81 of Depraved Royals

Vera makes short work of it, and within a couple of minutes, the hole is plenty big enough.

Dani and I put the tree in place, holding it straight as everyone takes turns packing a handful of soil. I pat down the last of the earth, and the new sapling is planted.

“New beginnings,” Dani says. “For all of us.”

No one speaks for a minute. I look around at the cycle of life - trees young and old, headstones here and there. The ground is littered with crispy leaves, a carpet of gold and bronze. One largish tree is at the end of its productive phase, and the fruit lies rotting on the ground below it.

A small sign at the base of the tree gets my attention. Leaves partly obscure it, and I brush them away with my boot. The writing is still clear.

For Mikhail.

“We planted this for you when Erik and Idina took you away,” Marta says. She puts her hand on the tree’s trunk. “You were just a baby. We loved you then, and we love you now. Your blood, our blood - it’s meaningless, Kal. You’re one of us.”

Dani takes my hand. I pull her close, and she nestles her head into my chest.

Something occurs to me.

“Fyodor, you saidmalyshka. You think our baby is a girl?”

“I hope so.” Fyodor’s face splits into a broad grin. “I love having daughters. Imagine the fun I’ll have with a littledorogayaaround!”

Dani laughs. “At least you can do your faces-in-food thing for a bit longer!”

* * *

“I’m glad today is over,” I say as Dani unlocks the door to her home. “Maybe Vera and I will feel differently now that we’ve got some closure.”

“It’ll take time.” She smiles at me. “You need to be kind to yourself.”

Dani looks around and sees Pippa’s purse.

“Oh, thank goodness we’re not too late,” she says. She shouts into the apartment. “Pip!”

Pippa runs out of her room wearing a towel, strands of wet hair flicking out behind her. She shrieks when she sees me, retreating out of sight.

“Dani! Kal nearly saw my boobs!”

I laugh. “Pippa, my fiancée is pregnant. Her boobs are ginormous right now. I don’t need to look elsewhere.”

I hear her snort. “Mine are still bigger. Not that anyone benefits from me having fabulous—”

“Stop it, Pip!” Dani giggles as she goes into Pippa’s room. A moment later, they both emerge, Pippa wrapped in a robe.

“You’re so late,” Dani says, pointing at the wall clock. “You should have been at JFK an hour ago. Who are you, me?”

“I can get a later flight if I have to. There are so many to Moscow.”

“I can’t believe you got an interview,” Dani says. “I’ll be super excited for you if you get in. The Baikal Institute is so mysterious. You could write a book.”

“I could, but I have to get a foot through the door first.”

I didn’t know Pippa was going there. I heard some things about that place when I was in theSpetsnaz, but it doesn’t seem like a good time to get into that.

“So anyway, you two are getting under my feet,” Pippa says. She’s carrying a Coke in one hand and a toaster waffle in the other, trying to pick up a pair of jeans from the clean laundry pile with her foot. “So scooch. I’ll shout up when I’m going.”

Dani and I climb the stairs to the attic space. It’s crammed with canvases; some finished, some barely started. She gestures at the one by the window.

A deep burgundy reaches across from the left, meeting the bright silver in the middle. The silver paint is layered thickly over the darker color, and where they mix, a pale, fresh lilac.

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