Page 43 of Tiger's Tale
“Is that your final decision?” Nik asked smoothly, quietly, managing to let not a hint of the emotion he felt escape.
Leaning forward, Danik smiled. To Veru, the gesture was much different than the ones he’d given her before. This smile was much darker. It showed teeth, reminding her of a tiger’s fangs. It was full of determination and power. It was a smile that could kill. She found she rather liked it. That he was even capable of it came as somewhat of a surprise to her. Yes. She liked her lanky hunter. Veru liked him very much.
“It is,” he replied. “And just so you know,” Danik added, “I am no glupec.”
15
MIRACLES FREQUENTLY ARRIVE IN STORM CLOUDS OF TROUBLE
To make matters worse, the hunter then took out a musical instrument of some kind and began strumming it, not stopping for hours. Hours! Nik yanked his cap down over his ears, trying to stuff the flaps into his eardrums, but it was no use. The man even hummed and occasionally sang. If he could have gagged him, he would have.
It wasn’t that Nik had never heard music before. The barracks were often filled with the sounds of various instruments night after night. There was always clapping and dancing. The problem was that music was always associated with celebration and drinking, and those two activities were something Nik avoided at all costs.
His first memory of music and dancing had been during a Christmastide celebration with his mother. For once his father had been in good spirits. Even his mother was in a rare happy mood. Their family had actually gone to a service, since the townspeople had just finished building the brand-new little church and their father wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Not that he’d contributed anything to it in money or labor. No. Not his father. Nik’s good old papka just wanted to make an appearance and see if there was anyone around he might wish to impress.
As such, his mama was full of brightness and hope for a change. They’d stopped at the market, and somehow either his mama or one of his siblings had asked their father at just the right time if they might have some nuts. Papka, not willing to be embarrassed in front of the other men, acquiesced and bought them, making a big fuss over Mama, claiming it was her Christmastide gift and handing her the package with a gentleman’s bow and even a kiss on the cheek.
When the merchant clapped happily at his display, Nik’s father grinned widely, and even added a few other items to the purchase, including a large bottle of rum. The whole family seemed cheered by the trip to town. When they arrived home, his mother began cooking. She made a Nesselrode pudding for the first time that day. His father even donated some of his rum to flavor it. Nik recalled it being the best thing he’d ever eaten in his life.
That evening, after feasting like kings, Nik’s mother took out a box he’d never seen before. She said it had been a gift from her parents when she married their father. Opening a little drawer in the bottom, she took out a key and inserted it into a keyhole, then wound it until it stopped. With her children gathered round her, their tiny tummies full, and their hearts and faces overflowing with Christmastide happiness, their mother seemed joyful too. For the first time in Nikolai’s memory, she seemed happy and peaceful, and to Nik, that day she looked like an angel.
The little box began to play a merry and bright tune. The young children clapped in delight and began twirling about the room. When it stopped, they asked her to make it work again. This time, she had Nik wind the box. “How does it play?” he asked. “There’s no man inside to work the instrument.”
“Open it and look,” his mother answered with a secretive smile meant just for him.
He did, and Nik was fascinated by what he saw.
“It’s like the comb I use to pull the tangles from your sister’s hair,” she explained. “They make a sound when they pass over the little metal bumps on the wheel.”
“Da!” Nik replied excitedly. “I see it, Mama!”
“Good, moy syn,” she replied with a soft smile, then set down the music box and held out her hands. “Now, how about a dance with your mama?”
“But... I don’t know how.”
“I’ll teach you. Just follow my steps.”
As his mother waltzed with him around the room chanting, “Raz, dva, tri, raz, dva, tri,” over and over and laughing as they took turns spinning each other around, his father watched the two of them from his chair in the corner of the room. The liquid in the bottle of rum he’d bought slowly disappeared as he watched his family celebrate. He didn’t join them, but his gaze never left them. Instead of dulling his vision, if anything his eyes grew brighter and more focused as they danced. Sadly, his thoughts were far from being “goodwill toward men.”
That night, when the young children were all tucked into their beds and Nik had just finished his outdoor chores in the barn, his father, still warmed by rum and his mother’s sleeping body, took hold of his firstborn and abused him, sorely, wickedly. Nikolai’s papka had hurt him before physically, certainly. But to force the same attentions on his son that he did on his mother was not only cruel and vicious but sick.
When his father stumbled back to his bed, Nik vomited all over himself and laid in it, crying for hours. He’d only just cleaned himself and the floor and climbed into his own bed next to his siblings before falling into a nightmarish, restless sort of sleep, when his father called out to him to get up and come help him with the morning chores.
Never again did Nik celebrate, dance, or sing. And never again did he laugh or smile in his mother’s presence. He wasn’t absolutely certain his mama knew what his father had done to him, but whether she did or didn’t, Nik still blamed her. He hated himself for it, too, because a part of him loved her still. It didn’t matter, though, because just thinking about her made him want to vomit.
Just like hearing music did.
Veru had asked him, begged him even, time and again to join her at one party or another, and he always made an excuse. He couldn’t dance, he’d say. Then she’d reply that she’d teach him. Or he’d tell her that he hated dressing up. She’d only answer that she did too. Nik would try to distract her, saying she wouldn’t even notice if he wasn’t there anyway what with all the pretty-boy suitors her parents had lined up for her. They’d all be stupid as boulders, of course.
Inevitably, she’d laugh at that and agree with him, which was always a relief. Truthfully, he panicked thinking about a suitor coming to call on Veru. It had never been likely her parents would choose someone ill-suited for her. The tsarina had been particularly intelligent and observant when it came to the aristocracy. And Veru’s mama wasn’t stubborn about bloodlines either. If she hadn’t found a suitable match for either of her daughters from those of highborn lineage, then she would have looked elsewhere.
Nikolai had no doubt that the matches she orchestrated for both her daughters would have pleased not only herself but the both of them, and it would have benefited the empire as well. Such was the skill set of the tsarina Ludmila Marianka Sashenka Stepanov. Though their mother had accepted the friendship between Veru and Nik, he had seen the tsarina eyeing him on more than one occasion, and he knew what it meant. Even without words, her message was clear.
The tsarevna Verusha is not for you.
Though she was gone, he still felt her knowing gaze on him. He knew he wasn’t worthy. He knew he didn’t deserve her. What he really deserved... Nikolai didn’t want to think about. But by heaven, if he couldn’t have Veru, then he’d make absolutely sure whoever did was worthy of her. The man who came to court her would not only be sun-god beautiful and the most skillful politician but he’d also treat her as an equal and be able to protect her at least as ably as she could herself.
Frankly, Nik wasn’t sure such a man existed. Even so, he certainly wasn’t going to have some smug, music-playing, hair-in-his-eyes, crooner-slash-hunter run off with the most eligible, most unique, most magnificent woman... er... tsarevna-turned-tiger in the realm either. Nik didn’t care if she hated him for it. He wasn’t going to let it happen. If he had to protect her from herself, he would. That’s what friends did for each other.
