The Girl on the Stove

by M. Wiklund

  Of course the stove was warmer than any person's hand. Galina sighed as she sat down. Elena had left it huge, and although it was no cushioned armchair, the warmth was lovely.

  "Aren't you going to ask me what I was thinking about?" Elena asked.

  "Didn't you say you were thinking about me?" That seemed specific enough.

  "I was thinking about that proclamation the other year," Elena said. "Two years ago? I think that was it. The one about that golden leopard."

  "Yes, the news was far spread."

  "They said whoever caught the leopard would marry you."

  Galina nodded. "That reward was mentioned, yes." Among other prizes: a pot of jewels and gold, a position as one of the king's favorites at court. Her father always liked to keep things interesting. And he told Galina men cared about three things in life: money, fame, and sex. If a reward combined all three elements, it was bound to be coveted.

  "And here you are without a husband." Elena raised her eyebrows. "Answer that riddle."

  It was hardly a matter to keep a girl up all night. Galina was somewhat disappointed. But she still answered. "Father gave me the choice of whether to marry the hunter or not, and I refused him."

  "Ah," Elena said. "Interesting, though somewhat deceitful. The proclamation did not mention such a choice. We in the village always assumed you'd do whatever he said. But I guess it's better for a princess to have her own say. And it's good for a woman to choose who she marries—rare, but good. My father would never have forced me to marry anyone, had I been of age before he died, and I certainly would not have let him if he had tried."

  Galina shrugged. Elena would have her own way in everything—that much was becoming very clear. But for the rest of what Elena had said…well, Galina was not sure how to respond to it.

  The truth of the matter was that her father had not told her. He had not warned her before announcing to the court—and having it told all over the kingdom—that she would be the prize for whomever might catch the golden leopard. She had not worried about it much at first. He had dangled her in front of men before and she had always remained the virgin princess nonetheless, her father unable to commit his greatest treasure to any one man.

  But as the months passed, her father had grown more and more obsessed with finding the golden leopard, even though it had nothing special about it except its golden coat. He had sworn at her time and time again, telling her it was clear no man really wanted her, telling her she was worthless and good for nothing. And so she had begun to worry that maybe he meant it this time. Maybe this was how he would choose a husband for her after all.

  But, she had reassured herself, no one could catch the golden leopard. It was too strong and too swift. None could catch it, if indeed it even existed and was more than a tall tale made up by sensationalizing country folk. And so whatever her father promised the people, whatever threats he used on Galina, none of them mattered. The day of her betrothal would never come.

  Then word had come back of a great hunter, a man who had caught the leopard and so thoroughly cowed it that it now walked behind him wherever he went, docile as any shepherd dog or husky. And Galina's father had not spoken to her of this, not told her whether she would be expected to marry this man or not. So she had waited, hoping he would be a kind man and not a man whose cruelty matched his brute strength. When he arrived she had been less impressed than the rest of the court. He had been a man tall and strong and handsome, and even his way with words had been skillful for a man who lived in his estate in the country. All in all he had been very respectful to the king, and his gift had been generous. But he had looked at Galina very smugly, and she had shivered under his gaze. She had held a straight face nonetheless. What her father wished her to do, she would do.

  But he had come to her that night and said to her, "That man is rich, but he does not have many friends at court. And he knows nothing of political affairs—I spoke to him at length and that much is clear."

  Galina had nodded, unsure what he expected her to say. She agreed with his opinion but did not dare to venture a guess at his plans.

  He had looked her in the eyes then and said, "I will leave it up to you, then, whether to marry him or not. The court shall know it is your choice, and they will not hold it against my honor when you refuse."

  That had been the end of the conversation. A near miss.

  Now, Galina said, "My father wants me to marry only when it benefits him. It could be a while yet before that happens."

  "And you are fine with that?" Elena asked. "Perhaps you don't want to marry a hunter, but there are many fine men at court. It is better to marry younger, too. In our village you're an old maid past twenty-five. I'm almost there, and I think you must be as well."

  "The men at court are attracted to power and wealth," Galina said drily. "That much I will always have."

  "Better to know your husband likes you, don't you think? If I ever had a husband, which I never will, I would not want him running off to sleep with some streetwalker or a tavern wench…"

  "Truthfully," Galina cut in. "I would prefer not to marry any man. I would prefer to take a wife."

  For two women or two men to marry was lawful in this kingdom, but rare in the upper classes, where nobles worried so about carrying on their family line. Galina's father had never so much as mentioned the option for Galina herself. He sometimes told her to charm some lady or other, but never hinted that she might marry them, only that she was to make them want her. No, Galina's father, to the extent that he accepted she would ever marry and leave his control, was set that she would have a husband. Still, Galina knew what she wanted. Even if she had no chance of getting it, it was nice to think about.

  "A wife?" Elena huffed out a laugh. Her eyes were wide. "Really? I would think twice. If you had ever met Marfa and Grusha you would know a wife does not make a peaceful home, no matter what anyone has told you."

  "Your brothers chose women who suited them," Galina said. "I would choose somebody different. A freer spirit, I suppose. A woman who matched me better."

  "Well, that returns us to our original subject," Elena said. "How have you waited this long to find a wife? There are many women at court who would surely welcome your advances."

  It was true. Even many women who did not find any interest in the embrace of another woman would have accepted her offer for the status it would bring them. Most people at court valued money and power over love and lust. But Galina simply did not like any of the court ladies. She had known them for too long, perhaps, and none of them were very pleasant. Sometimes she had pictured kissing them or touching them, as she had pictured it with Taisia. But in person she always came to the same conclusion: even the prettier ones, even the ones who seemed interested in her, saw her to some extent as a toy of the king's. They might well be thinking of him even if she allowed them into her bed, even if they didn't intend to. And, again, it frightened her. She didn't like the thought of kissing someone and tasting ambition on their lips.

  She said, "As I said, my father wishes me to remain single for the present."

  "Until the next golden leopard?"

  Galina shrugged. "Would you like to play knucklebones?"

  Elena scrutinized her. And as she had on the first day, Galina felt judged.

  "Were I in your shoes, I would not allow my father to use me as bait. Surely a princess has more dignity than that."

  And Galina stopped herself from saying, "He's using me as bait right now. For you. Or do you see any difference?"

  Chapter Four

  They played knucklebones for many hours. It was pleasant enough. Galina sang occasionally as they played. It was not as much of a performance as it was the first time, but more of a way to pass the time, although she still liked the way Elena clearly appreciated it. Elena even tried to sing along a couple times, claiming she knew a few of the songs. But she always ultimately failed, unable to hit all the notes or remember all the words.

  The day passed oddly quick
ly this way, with Elena and Galina singing and playing and speaking of first one thing and then another. And tonight it felt natural to leave Elena saying they would see each other in the morning.

  Galina lay awake in her own bed for hours nonetheless. She had learned very little from Elena today, and honestly she had not tried very hard. She had allowed herself to be distracted by the company, the very trap she had been trying to set for Elena springing on her instead.

  Tomorrow she would have to be more persuasive. The king would not be pleased if, at the end of the three days, she still had only failure to offer him. She would get the information from Elena. And then, most likely, Elena would leave and life would go back to normal. She would go back to her little village with her sisters in law and her brothers, and leave Galina alone...

  It was a stupid way to think. Galina had far more companionship at court than Elena had on her lonely little stove in the middle of nowhere. Just because she was frustrated with all the nobles lately didn't mean she had no friends.

  Sighing, she tried to sleep. She could deal with Elena tomorrow, and the bleak imaginings of night always seemed silly under the light of the sun.

  The next day dawned cold. Galina hardly wanted to get out of bed. She wore a warm wrap over her dress, hoping it would not stop her from looking beautiful and attractive. And she was very happy to climb on top of Elena's stove.

  Elena did not have a wrap.

  "Do you want me to call for a servant?" Galina asked. Elena was shivering. "There are plenty of blankets and shawls in the castle. We could even get a quilt, perhaps. Or," she added before she could think better of it, "we could share my wrap. It is big enough for two."

  Elena didn't hesitate. She shifted over and pulled Galina's wrap around her. And while it was a big wrap, and very warm, it was not the luxurious size of a blanket. They ended up nestled in together, shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm. Elena's smock and Galina's dress stood between their bare skin, but Galina knew her heat was what Elena craved, not really the wrap. The heat emanating from her flesh, from her blood.

  Elena, also, was warm. She also smelled of sweat and ash, but Galina had already gotten used to that. It was somewhat pleasant.

  "So, what today?" Galina asked. "Do we play more knucklebones?" It was cozy on the stove. There were questions to be asked, she knew—a very important task to undertake—but as yet, she could not find the strength in herself to go at it.

  "It would be awkward with the wrap," Elena said. "Can you sing again?"

  She was too tired to sing well, and she didn't really feel like warming up or sitting up straight. But she sang a casual country ditty, a song about bringing in the harvest. It wasn't the right season, but Elena still looked impressed. She gazed at Galina with an expression of wonderment, or perhaps fondness. And Galina noticed, as the song came to a close, that her gaze lingered in particular on Galina's lips.

  And so, as she finished singing, Galina licked her lips. Elena was still looking. And Galina leaned over and kissed her.

  She half expected Elena to freeze, not wanting this after all. Or, like Galina's imaginary Taisia, to respond with an odd sense of duty to a princess's demands. But Elena kissed back, lips and tongue were eager, and her arms folded themselves around Galina's body, and Galina found that she was the one who pulled away first, out of breath and overcome with desire.

  They couldn't make love on top of a stove. That would be a little much.

  "How do you know how to do all that?" she asked. Her voice came out hoarse, and she cleared her throat. "I mean, you seemed…very good…"

  "I've been around, same as anyone else," Elena said. "Let's not talk about that right now." She reached for Galina again.

  Galina was not unwilling to give it another go. But, "I thought no one in town was interested in you because you were too lazy."

  "As a wife. But many of the boys liked the look of me. I don't work, so I look like I live a life of luxury. Like a rich man's daughter." She smirked a little at Galina, really and truly a rich man's daughter.

  "Oh," Galina said.

  It had not occurred to her that Elena might have experience. It made her feel a little unbalanced. Wasn't she supposed to be the one in control here? She was the princess.

  Elena's hands were on her waist. "Princess?"

  "If you're going to kiss me," Galina said, "Call me Galina."

  "Galina," Elena said. With a smile she leaned in, and made Galina forget all about her doubts.

  Elena kissed her on her mouth, licking through her lips with a swirling tongue. She kissed her neck, her collarbone, even her ears. Galina was hard pressed to keep up, although she tried to mimic Elena, and Elena did seem to enjoy what she managed to do. But maybe Elena was easily pleased. Certainly Galina did not have any skill to match her.

  At last Galina drew away from her again, panting. "We should go to my bed."

  Elena swallowed. "It isn't right for a peasant to lie in the bed of a princess."

  "It would be nice."

  "Princess…Galina…" Elena frowned.

  "Come with me."

  "Did the king tell you to do this?"

  "What? No."

  Elena cupped her chin and looked at her head-on. "It would be wrong of him to tell you to sleep with someone to find out their secrets. You are worth more than that, and he is your father."

  "He's never asked me to do anything like that," Galina said. To talk sweetly, yes. To sing, to impress, to enchant, of course. But her seductions were only figurative. Before Elena, she had never even kissed any of her suitors—not that Elena counted as a suitor.

  "If you decided to sleep with me to get my secrets on your own," Elena added. "That doesn't make me happy. You can kiss me if you want, though. I don't mind." She smiled, but her smile was not as bright as it had been before. "But it won't get you what you want."

  The mood was broken. But Galina kissed Elena again anyway. She didn't try to pull her off the stove again, or convince her to go to her room, or let this go further than kissing. Sitting here would be enough—it would have to be. More would have been nice, especially since Elena would leave tomorrow and Galina would never get anything as honest as this again, not that she could imagine. But this was enough. If she had to hold this memory in her mind forever, it would be enough.

  Eventually they grew tired. They remained side by side under the wrap, but they merely leaned against each other.

  Galina said, "How did you like kissing a princess?"

  Elena's tone was distant. "I think it's as good as it sounds."

  "I suppose that's good to know."

  Elena shook her head. "The people in my village will never believe me if I tell them this."

  "And do you intend to tell them?" It was amusing to think of a village girl claiming her as a conquest. Elena was right; no one would believe it.

  "Ah, I don't know. Most of them don't like talking to me. They might be curious about my trip to see the castle, though. And people have started watching me more since I started doing magic." Elena yawned. "Still, I don't know if it's worth it to talk to them. Mostly they're more trouble than they're worth—they're very rude, you know, even now. Some of them say it's a good thing I have magic because at least I'm not useless anymore." Her voice was bitter. She cleared her throat. "I use it to help Marfa and Grusha, you know. But sometimes I think even that is a mistake."

  Galina knew what Elena had been using her magic for. She had heard the rumors from the village as her father had, reported by merchants and traders. Sleighs pulled by nothing, not human force or horses. Axes chopping wood on their own, buckets toting water, brooms sweeping with no support from human hands. Mundane magic but still incredible, impossible.

  "Why would it be a mistake? Surely your family cannot criticize you anymore." Or if they did, they would be foolish, to insult a magic wielder whose abilities impressed even the king.

  "Well, they're nice right now. I've started doing Marfa and Grusha's work, and they always act very
thankful. But it won't be long before they take it for granted," Elena said. "They're already bossing me around. I really hate it there."

  Galina frowned. She had always thought there would be two hard things about being a peasant, on the rare occasions that she bothered to ponder it: Having to work all the time, which would doubtless be dull and hard on the body, and living in such poor conditions that you suffered from cold and lack of food. But Elena wasn't really working if she made her magic do everything, and even in the castle she refused to get off her stove so she clearly didn't care about poor living conditions enough to crave better. "Why do you hate it? You don't have to labor anymore." Not that, according to the story, she had ever worked in the first place.

  "It's not work that bothers me."

  "Isn't it? You said it was before." Galina caught a glare from Elena, but laughed lightly and kissed her cheek. Elena blushed.

  "What I hate," she said after a moment, "is people telling you what to do. And having to do things for other people, and them expecting you to just work for them because, I don't know, it's somehow become what you are…All the women in my town work constantly and no one ever appreciates it. I mean, they get to call themselves proper women or something. But at the end of the day, they've just made themselves into tools. I'm not for anyone's use. I don't want my magic to be either." She sighed. "I do feel bad for Marfa and Grusha. But if they start taking my magic for granted, they'll see how fast their dishes pile up again." She crossed her arms.

  Galina pulled the wrap tighter. She considered the speech. "It's good to help other people though." She didn't exactly do chores, but she helped her father all the time.

  Elena glared at her. "Princess, I did not ask for your judgment. I'm sure you know far more about these things than a commoner like me but in fact I was merely answering your question. Now you know why I hate working for others. You may approve or not, but I will live the way I do."

  Her tone was acidic. Galina winced. Drawing away, she let Elena have the whole wrap to herself. "Very well. I suppose I just don't understand you," she confessed. It was the truest thing she had said to Elena since they first met.