“What happened?” she asks.
“Papa wants to take Nikolai tonight.”
Mama goes still.
Papa turns slightly toward her. “It’s time people see him.”
“No,” I say.
Mama does not answer right away, and that frightens me more than if she agreed.
Papa continues, “The Kurylenkos will be there. The Anisimovs. Several old friends. They have heard enough about the boy. It’s better if they see him properly.”
“He’s not a horse at auction,” I snap.
Before Papa can answer, another voice cuts in from the hall.
“Well,” Vika says, “that depends who’s bidding.”
I do not turn. I do not need to. I can hear the smile in her voice.
She comes into the nursery dressed already for the evening, in black silk and diamonds, her mouth painted a dark red that makes her look even sharper. She leans one shoulder against the doorframe like she has every right to be there.
“Really, Katya, you should be grateful,” she says. “Most women in your position would kill for this kind of acceptance.”
I face her then. “My position?”
She lifts a brow. “An unwed mother with no name to offer and two children nobody asks too many questions about. Papa has been very generous.”
Mama’s face hardens. “Enough.”
But Vika is not looking at Mama.
She’s looking at me. “You should take the win,” she says softly. “Before people start asking why the boy is suddenly important.”
There it is. Not quite a threat. Not quite a question.
Just a knife placed on the table.
I feel the room shift around me.
Papa says, coldly, “Viktoria.”
She finally looks at him. “What? I only mean that appearances matter tonight. You’ve done so much for them; this is the least she can do.”
If Papa has decided Nikolai is going to be seen, then keeping him back will only make the questions worse. If I refuse to go, Vika will spend the night in every corner of that house smiling sadly and implying exactly what she wants.
My children do not know how often I protect them simply by being present.
I look at Nikolai.
He has gone very still. Sofia too, though she understands less. They can both feel the strain now.
Fine.If Nikolai goes, he goes with me.
No one gets him alone in a ballroom full of men who think bloodlines are assets.
“I’ll come,” I say.