by Bree Porter
“Ewww,” he whined.
“You’re not meant to eat it,” I mused. “It’s to shave your beard with.”
Niko rubbed his bare chin. “It’s gross.”
“I bet.”
I cleaned off my face. “Are you excited for the wedding?”
He nodded. “Mmhmm. Mama said they’ll be lights and food and loshadi and Baba.”
“I don’t think the horses are coming,” I mused. “They won’t fit in the seats.”
“Mama said.”
“Oh, okay. My mistake.” I ruffled his hair and he giggled. “Your mother specifically said she wants this hair brushed for the ceremony. What do you think?”
“No brush.”
“No?” I laughed. “Very well. It’s your hair.”
Voices sounded outside the bathroom, mainly Roman’s annoyed tone. “I don’t see why we have to wear these stupid fucking outfits,” he was saying. “Elena’s probably going to show up in a sweater and barefoot. Yet I have to wear a tux.”
To Nikolai, I asked, “Have you brushed your teeth?”
He grinned. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“If I feel your toothbrush, it will be wet?”
Niko sighed. “Do it now.”
I helped him down to his feet, watching him brush his teeth to make sure he was doing it. He got mad when I added more toothpaste to his brush, since he had barely put an inch of it on.
“Your teeth will fall out your head if you don’t use lots of toothpaste,” I remined him.
“It’s gross.”
“As gross as shaving cream?”
He looked like was thinking about it.
Once our teeth were brushed, hair neat and stubble shaved, we went into the bedroom. My men loitered around the room, including Anton, who was standing still for his father as Dmitri tied his bowtie.
Artyom clapped my shoulder in greeting. “How are you feeling?”
I shrugged on my shirt. “Good. Did Roman get the rings?”
“Everything’s going to plan,” he assured me. “Roksana won’t let anything go wrong. She even managed to get Babushka into a dress.”
“Poor cat.”
Roman tugged at his collar, muttering under his breath. “I know how she feels.”
Olezka was helping Nikolai put on his shirt, even if my son looked very disinterested. Elena had warned me that the toddler would dirty the white fabric before the ceremony began. I had told her I could keep him clean, but the determined look in Niko’s eyes didn’t make me feel as confident as I had.
In hindsight, perhaps a garden in the wedding wasn’t the smartest course of action.
“Are you nervous, boss?” Roman asked.
Dmitri shook his head. “Why would he be nervous?”
“He’s about to be chained down for the rest of his life–by Elena, nonetheless.” To Niko, he said, “Your mother is a wolf.”
“No, she’s a human.”
I smiled and ruffled my son’s hair. “We’ve all got a little beast inside us, my boy. Especially your uncle Roman.”
“At least, I’m free,” Roman replied.
That made me chuckle. “Are you?”
His cheeks went slightly red at what my tone implied. The topic of him and Danika was the hornet’s nests none of us wanted to poke.
We were all dressed in tuxes, the little boys included. The ceremony wouldn’t be starting for another hour, but the close confines of the room made my men restless. When Anton and Nikolai began to play tag to burn off some boredom, we made our way downstairs and to the garden.
I spotted Babushka, a large white skirt tied around her waist. She looked furious.
Artyom caught me a moment alone as the clock drew us closer and closer to the wedding. He clasped the back of my neck in brotherly affection. “I’m happy for you,” he said. “I’ve wanted this for you for a long time.”
I bowed my head. “Thank you, brother. Without you, I would have no happiness to celebrate.”
“How far we have come from the teenage boys who ran the streets of Moscow. I wonder what they would think of us.”
“I imagine they would be wondering if they could rob us.”
Artyom shared my laughter. “Indeed. Quite atrocious, weren’t we?”
“We still are atrocious, just with better suits.”
“And shoes.”
We both chuckled again.
I fell quiet when I saw the wedding setup in the garden. There had never been any discussion about the venue–everyone had known immediately Elena and I would be married at the estate. Either in the library or garden, Roksana had said, depending on the weather. We had been blessed with a sunny day, allowing us to get married outside.
It was a small, intimate, but no less beautiful. A few chairs were lined up on either side of the aisle, leading up to the arbour. Flowers and vines twisted around the wedding arch, their frost-kissed stems resembling a winter wonderland. Blankets had been left on chairs, and winter bouquets had been made and used to decorate.
Elena and I had been banned from seeing it this morning. Danika had overseen guarding the door and proved to be quite the obstacle.
“You did all this in a few hours?”
“It’s only small,” Artyom reasoned. “We took the chairs from the dining room and found the arch on the property. There are flowers everywhere, so they weren’t hard to find. Actually, the most difficult part was clearing enough space to set up–we need to start cutting back the bushes.”
“No church wedding for Elena and me,” I said referring to Artyom and Roksana’s wedding.
He smiled faintly. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was thinking about his wedding day or amused by the irony.
“I’ve been waiting for her since that moment.” His sentence was so abrupt for a second, I didn’t know what he was referring to.
“Waiting for who?”
“Elena.”
I arched an eyebrow. In the distance, I could hear Niko and Anton yelling as they weaved in and out of the bushes. I didn’t need to turn around to know they were already covered with dirt–Roksana would not be impressed.
“You were waiting for Elena? Have you forgotten how long it took for you to warm up to her?”
Artyom didn’t refute my statement. “It takes me a long time to warm up to everyone.”
“Excluding Roksana.”
“To me, Roksana isn’t everyone.” He looked to me, crow-black eyes alight with some piece of knowledge I didn’t hold. “I never thought either of us would fall in love and get married, that we would have families like the ones we saw on television. I had always assumed you would reproduce to have an heir and that would be the end of our attempts at a family. But then I saw Roksana.”
“I remember.”
Artyom’s lips twitched. “The moment I discovered the euphoria that love brings you, the comfort and happiness that the women we love bring to our lives, I have yearned for you to find it as well. I always hoped you would meet someone worthy to stand at your side, someone who didn’t accept your charismatic exterior and saw the man you are beneath.”
“I did.”
“You did. You found her and I was horrified. She was a widow, and quite frankly, a pain in the ass. I love Elena,” he added when he saw my expression, “but she is nothing like what I had imagined for you. Although, I doubt anyone imagines someone like Elena as their true love...except for you, I suppose.”
I arched a brow, urging him to go on.
Artyom sighed. “I’ve never been good with words but what I’m trying to say is: it has been the honour of my life watching you grow into a man and father, and now into a husband. I see your equal in Elena, and I can honestly say, there is no one else in the universe who deserves to stand by your side more.”
“You have become soft in your old age,” I said to cover the emotions building in my chest.
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“It’s fatherhood,” he replied. “I’ve turned into a sap. Roksana’s delighted.”
“Yes, children do have a strange way of impacting their parents.”
We shared a look of amusement and affection, brothers united. Two young boys and now two men. Now, two fathers. Time, once again, had won the war and I could do nothing but surrender to her vicious continuity. After all, time had brought Elena and my son back to me–and there were many more gifts in the future my family would receive.
It was Danika who came to tell us the ceremony was starting. She wore a deep pink dress, the ends already dirtied and a stain already darkening the skirt–she must’ve spilt something on herself.
“She’s coming, boss,” she told me, voice overflowing with joy. “You have to get into your position.”
I stood beneath the wedding arch, Artyom by my side. Dmitri and Roman wrangled in the boys, breaking up their game of tag and forcing them into their seats. Nikolai was in charge of the rings–the rings which Dmitri was taking care of before it was the correct time. Leaving the toddler in charge of the jewellery had never been a viable option.
Wind whistled through the trees, stirring the leaves and flowers. Loose petals got caught in the current, dancing over the aisle and ground like tiny tornados. I could hear birds singing from their branches and the soft voices of my son and nephew.
Roksana and Evva slipped out of the house first, both dressed in matching formal wear. The silver fabric blew in the breeze as they made their way to us. Evva was holding a basket of petals, which she dropped at random as her mother carried her to her seat.
The perfect flower girl, I thought as the two sat down, both sending Artyom glowing smiles. He had never looked happier.
Danika came next, managing not to careen down the aisle. She took her seat next to Roksana, sending me a toothy grin. With her attention on me, she failed to notice the gaze of Roman, whose eyes were locked on Danika with such intensity I was surprised her skin didn’t burn beneath his laser stare.
Following Danika was my niece. Her dress swirled around like the ocean’s waves, the white blond of her hair offsetting the blue. When Natasha caught my eye, she sent me a radiant smile, looking just like the little girl she had been all those years ago.
I looked at them all, heart tight behind my ribs. My family, I thought. I had known most of these people for years, building a life and home with them. When I had found fifteen-year-old Roman on the streets, I had never imagined he would be holding my son on his lap at my wedding. When I had seen Roksana dancing, I hadn’t suspected that she would be one of my closest confidents and the love of my brother’s life.
There were no other people in the world whom I would rather share this moment with.
My family shifted in their seats as her entrance drew closer. Anticipation had everyone fidgeting and whispering, their excitement too much to contain.
Then she stepped into view.
I had already used every word in existence to try and describe Elena. I had looked to folklore and science to try and find answers. But there were no words, no explanations. Elena was and always had been the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on.
She was wearing a long-sleeved white dress, the light fabric swirling around her ankles. The straight mahogany that was her hair fell down her around, acting as a curtain to the pair of emerald green eyes that shone like beacons of light on her face. In between her palms was a bouquet of foxgloves, the purple bell-shaped foxglove obvious to the eye.
“Hello,” Elena said, almost shyly.
The ability to think had completely abandoned me. All I said was, “You seem to have forgotten your shoes.”
Her cheeks crinkled as she smiled, the mere sight of it almost sending me to my knees.
“I would rather cold feet than having to wear shoes.”
I felt my smile grow up my face. “I know, lyubimaya.”
Elena tilted her head up, looking deep into my eyes. I knew she was seeing something I was blind too–I had never been able to replicate the unique way in which she saw the world around her. All I could do was ask her and hope she gave me an honest answer.
I stretched out my hands, palms facing up. She didn’t need any encouragement, slipping her hands into mine. We held onto each other as Artyom began the ceremony.
When it came time for vowels, I felt a strange jolt of nervousness. From the furrowing of Elena’s brows, she was feeling the same thing.
“Elena,” I began, voice as soft as the breeze that tickled our cheeks, “beneath my crown and power, I am just a man and today I stand before you as a man talking to the woman he loves. I come to you with no agenda or inhibitions, and by my own volition.”
Tears began to well in her eyes, anticipating what I had to say.
“Years ago, when I picked up a random journal article on the use of poisons, I never thought I would find my true love in between the sentences. I discovered your soul wrapped up in jargon and statistics and located your heart your words. All I could think was here is someone who has left a part of themselves in their work and still they are a mystery, still they are an equation with no answer.
I couldn’t find you, I couldn’t unravel you…and then I saw you for the first time, my Elena. You’ve always been the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Your beauty rivals the moon, sun, and earth. But none of that compared to hearing your voice, to learning your thoughts and being privy to your mind. You are my soul, Elena. My world without you would not turn.
It has been the greatest joy of my life being your partner and loving our son. I can promise you, I swear on my blood and crown, that there will never be a moment where you are not without happiness and respect. There will never be a moment where I do not love you with everything I am and everything I will become.”
I could feel wetness on my cheeks but none of it mattered when I stared into Elena’s eyes. She was blinking rapidly, breath coming out sharply.
“Your turn, Elena,” Artyom said kindly.
She gulped down some air, trying to gain control of herself. I wiped away her tears, my heart clenching when she leaned into my palm, craving my touch.
“Kon,” she began, voice softer than I had ever heard it. “I spent days trying to write these vows. I used every word in my arsenal, created metaphors by the thousands. I looked for adjectives to try and describe what you mean to me and search for verbs to explain how well I will take care of you. Dictionaries, thesauruses, everything I could get my hands on. I even asked Roman for help.”
Chuckles rose from the audience.
“But…” her lips quivered. “I only have one word to offer you, I only have one promise to lay before you. It may not be lyrical and long, it may not be a list of facts detailing everything you mean to me.” She rolled up her sleeve, revealing the skin to me. A single word was scrawled. “Love. The only vow I have for you is love. I loved you yesterday and today I love you more and tomorrow I will continue to love you. Until the air leaves my body, I will be hopelessly and devastatingly in love with you.”
Elena offered her arm to me. I pressed my lips to the ink, breathing deeply.
“Lyubimaya.” The only word I could say.
“My love,” she replied. “My heart, my soul, my Konstantin.”
Sniffles echoed from the audience, tissues passed around by the box.
I held her face between my palms, peering down at her. She looked back up at me. No words, no more declarations. Everything that needed to be said had been said.
Besides, Elena and I had always had an affinity for reading each other’s expressions.
You’re stuck with me, her eyes gleamed.
My cheeks ached with the size of my grin. You’re mistaken, lyubimaya. It is you who it is stuck with me.
Artyom’s voice sounded out, the texture of it cracking with rare emotion. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Elena stretched to her tiptoes, pressing her lips
to mine. Her scent of myrrh and cinnamon surrounded me, the gentle touch of her fingers against my neck and chest against mine, swarmed around like a tornado–but I was safe and sound in the eye of the storm.
The kiss was soft and delicate, one appropriate to have in front of the disgusted children and crying adults. Nikolai shouted, “Mama! Dad!” with such horror that we broke away laughing.
“I am beyond honoured to announce you as husband and wife.” Artyom’s voice commanded the guests to silence. “Konstantin and Elena…Tarkhanov.”
29
Elena Tarkhanov
I leaned against Kon’s chest, basking in his warmth and the sound of my family’s laughter.
We had all relocated to the dining room as the temperature had dropped, but the backdoors were wide open, allowing the children to run around the garden. Dinner lay destroyed on the table–a Dmitri-made feast–and bottles of wine were constantly being poured. Desert was brought out by Roksana, a white tiered cake that she and Artyom had baked together.
“–and then this motherfucker turns to me and says that’s not a bump, that’s the road!”
The table roared with laughter as Roman finished his story. Wine spilled over glasses as arms were tossed and necks tipped back.
“The trouble you manage to get yourself into,” Roksana laughed from Artyom’s lap.
Roman grinned. “Trouble finds me, Roksy. I don’t get a choice.”
We all laughed again.
As the conversation continued, Kon nuzzled his nose against my arm. He had been enamoured with the word I had written there, kissing and biting softly.
“Niko’s going to sleep well tonight.” I glanced outside to where him and Evva were playing hide and seek. Both toddlers were looking for Anton, who had proven to be exceptional at hiding.
“Lucky.” Kon murmured. “I want some alone time with my wife.”
“You shouldn’t have married a person with a child if you wanted alone time.”
His chest rumbled with laughter. “I’ll get it right next time.”
I rose my eyebrows. “Next time?”
The smile he sent me was nothing short of devilish.