Page 30 of Tiger's Trek
“That’s fine. You can pose as my sister.”
“A sister would be trained as a musician. What if they ask us to play?”
“That’s true. Perhaps... a cousin, then.”
“A cousin would need a chaperone.”
Danik pursed his lips, obviously thinking hard.
Veru shook his arm. “I’ll be your wife, Danik. No one can complain about that.”
“But—but you’d have a ring.”
“We’ll say we’ve sold it. We’re obviously very poor.”
Danik rubbed his jaw and frowned. “I suppose it would explain why you don’t have decent shoes. And why your dress is ripped.” His expression suddenly brightened. “Wait a moment.Arewe married, and I just forgot? You’d think I’d remember a thing like that.”
“No. We aren’t married. I’m the tsarevna, and you’re taking me home. Remember?”
“Right. That sounds right.” He nodded with certainty. “We’re married and headed home.”
“Close enough.”
“But you can’t sing?”
“Not a note.” She took hold of his arm again. “Shall we, then?”
“I think we should.”
There was a little path that led up to the cottage, but Veru’s feet were really hurting by that point. She slipped on the gravel and nearly fell, but Danik scooped her in his arms and carried her up to the door, only setting her down once they were safely on the porch.
A lock of his thick, dirty-blond hair fell over one blue eye, hiding it from view as he leaned down. His hands were still spanning her waist, bearing most of her weight.
Veru found herself mesmerized by his full lips and the soft golden stubble of a new beard surrounding them. Reaching up, she pushed the hair away from his face and traced a long, dark eyebrow with her thumb.
The expression of concern and tenderness didn’t change into something lustful, like she might’ve expected after a caress such as the one she’d just given him. But if she wasn’t mistaken, there did seem to be a slight brightening of the blue in his eyes. Instead of causing Veru alarm, it made her breath quicken.
Danik smiled at her and said, “Your feet always seem to get you in trouble, don’t they, little lapochka?”
Her mouth fell open, and she was just going to ask him if he was beginning to remember on his own, when the door behind them flew open.
Standing in the opening was a pale, thin woman with disheveled gray hair held back by a scarf. A thin blue film covered both her eyes, making Veru think she was blind, and yet her head moved back and forth between Veru and Danik as if she could see both of them clear as day.
The woman’s nose and lips were pinched and thin, though her nostrils were quite large, especially when she took in great gusts of air, as she seemed to do often. Between her spindly legs wound a gray cat with eyes so green and bright they seemed to glow.
“Kto tam prish?l, Maxsim, eh?” Reaching down, she stroked her cat’s head with long, bony fingers. The cat dug its head into her hand and turned to look at Veru. Peering at her closely, it narrowed its eyes, then hissed and spat before darting back into the darkness of the cottage.
“Max!” the woman cried. “That’s no way to treat our guests. Silly beast. No matter. Privet. You can call me Yuga. Did someone send you, or did you find my little hut of your own accord?”
“Greetings, Babushka,” Danik said. “My wife and I came across your cottage on our own.”
“Otlichno! Good! That is excellent. You two are most welcome. Newly married, are you?”
“We are,” Veru replied.
“I knew it,” the old woman said, reaching out to clasp Veru’s hands. She missed, but Veru purposely touched her hands to the woman’s fingertips and found them very cold—almost icy, in fact. When Yuga clasped them quickly, Veru was shocked to find her grip so strong. She was also confused to see the woman bring her hands close to her face and inhale deeply as if trying to catch her scent.
Veru watched the woman carefully, knowing there was much more to the old lady than there seemed to be on the surface.
