Page 109 of Tiger's Trek
“How about what?”
Veru shoved his arm. “Me, you durak.”
“You,” he said bluntly. “You want to take me home, with you. To the palace? As what? Your butler, your dvoretskiy? If you want to hear me play, to serve as a visiting kompozitor of songs, I’m more than happy to do so, my lady. But if you want to install me as one of your lyubovnikov, then my answer is unequivocally nyet!”
Becoming angry, Veru retorted, “I think you misunderstood. That’s not at all what I?—”
“It’s always taking, isn’t it?” he accused. “It’s not enough that I had to give up my family home and most of the instruments. Do you know how much in taxes my uncle has to pay each year? That it’s based on the number of children? How is it their fault how many they have?”
“What?” Veru said. “What are you talking about? Number of children? What does that have to do with anything?”
Danik snorted. “There’s a tax for everything. Even dying. Did you know that? Wasn’t it bad enough that I lost my parents, but then I had to lose the instruments they played as well? And for what? To fund diplomatic balls? More dresses? Wars in far-off locations? Or perhaps pay for your mother’s pet programs to help people who aren’t even citizens of our country?”
Veru’s face turned red, and her neck felt hot. “That’s not fair. I lost my parents too, you know.”
“Yeah? And did you lose your home as well? Have to change jobs? Move in with a relative to help support them simply because their sons didn’t want to join the military? You may think I don’t remember much at all, and that’s true. I don’t recall my time with you or our travels or meeting a tiger or freeing her from a trap. But I do remember losing my family and how my auntie cried at the thought of losing her sons. After losing her sister, my mother, the idea of losing any of her sons sent her to her bed with worry. It was so bad that I was willing to do anything to help.”
“That included selling off your inheritance? Your instruments?”
“Yes. At first it was enough.”
“And when it wasn’t?”
“When it wasn’t? I went hunting. That way at least the younger boys could stay home longer.”
Now she understood. Veru had been in the meeting when it was decided that citizens with more than two healthy children must either send one to join the military or pay a penalty of increased tax. The size of the penalty increased with the number of children eligible to serve but refusing to enlist. It was a way to ensure that the military would always remain strong. She’d never considered what would happen to a family whose children refused to join. Most everyone volunteered willingly and was proud to serve.
“Danik, I...” Veru trailed off, not knowing what to say. She had always assumed Danik had moved in with his aunt’s family because he was an orphan, not because they’d needed him to help pay the taxes. She’d known hunting wasn’t his first choice, but she’d assumed he’d go back to music when he was ready to strike out on his own. Now it seems he’d always been ready. That Danik was just the type of person to sacrifice himself to help others. Turns out, he was indeed a better man than she deserved.
“Look,” he said, rubbing his neck. “It doesn’t matter.” He turned his back to her, and Veru felt defeated.
She stood there a moment, staring at him, thinking. This wasn’t a moment where she could manipulate another person with a winning smile or the wink of an eye, and truthfully, she didn’t want to do such a thing with Danik. Her skill with knives wasn’t going to help her in this situation either. If only she was as skilled at diplomacy as her mother had been. Taking a deep breath, Veru said, “It does matter. I can’t pretend to know all the answers. The easiest thing to do would be to just shrug and say laws are complicated, and leave it at that, but that’s a lazy person’s justification for doing nothing.”
Veru put her hand on his shoulder, and he turned back halfway. “As for my mother’s pet programs, I know for a fact that each and every one was put in place because she had a good heart and wanted to help others, not because she intended to cause injury or pain. Not that that’s an excuse—I’m just explaining her purpose. Intentions do mean something. Good hearts mean open ears and a willingness to listen to others. I would hope that I’m like her in that regard.
“Unfortunately, I am not well-versed in all the laws regarding taxation, but I can promise you that upon our return, I will look into this one and see about amending it. Do you—would you—that is... I wonder if you might be willing to help me and share some of your insights into the matter? I would appreciate your unique perspective.”
Danik tilted his head, considering her offer, then nodded. “I will accept your proposal, Tsarevna.” Then he lifted a finger. “But don’t get any ideas. I’m only agreeing to counsel you. Nothing else.”
“Hmm,” she said, raising her hands. “I’d never assume otherwise.”
Each of them retreated into their own thoughts and wandered out onto the summer porch around sunset, waiting for the black knight to arrive.
“I never doubted it, you know,” Danik said quietly when the daylight finally disappeared, and the first stars arrived.
“Doubted what?” Veru replied as she leaned back against the wall of the house, her fingers clasped around one drawn-up knee.
“Your heart.”
Veru tried to make out his expression in the dim light coming from the open door of the house, but all she could see was the flash of his eyes. She wished she had her tiger’s eyes again. How she missed her cat. Max seemed to sense her loss and twined his body around her leg, purring furiously. She reached down to scratch his ears just as she heard a snap of lightning and thunder, and the clap of hooves hit the ground.
Sparks trailed behind a horse as black as night, with fiery flames shooting from his nostrils. He drew to a stop by the porch, and his rider with black armor and a flowing black cape strode up and bowed.
“Dobryy vecher,” he said after removing his helmet. “I am Sumerki.”
“Priyatno Poznakomit’sya. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Veru, and this is Danik.”
“My brothers told me about you. I’m afraid they are becoming hopeful. I wish you hadn’t encouraged them. It’s much better if they resign themselves to their fate. You should do the same and give up now.”
