There's something magnetic about him. Even as we dance, I notice how others watch him. I know it’s certainly not me that the eyes are on, given how clumsy I am in situations like this. This is reconfirmed when I nearly stumble, but just then, Agafon’s hands reach for my waist, and I feel his fingers dig intome, sending a spark of current down my spine as he holds me in place to prevent me from making a fool of myself.
And just like that, he shows me his second kindness of the day. The perfunctory kiss, and now this.
“Th…thank you,” I find my voice and meet his gaze once I have my balance back in place.
“How are you doing?” he asks, surprising me with what sounds like genuine concern.
“I'm fine,” I answer automatically. Then, “Actually, I'm overwhelmed. It's been a long day.”
He nods, a small crease appearing between his brows. “The party will wind up in a matter of hours. We’ll head back home then.”
The implication of what follows the reception lingers between us. Home. What does that mean? Would we share a room? Where is Nikandr? Is there a chance I could run into him at my new…residence?
There are so many questions I have, none I feel comfortable asking. I can’t exactly assess what to prepare myself for, especially the awkwardness surrounding Nikandr, without knowing what’s coming my way.
“I noticed some of your family couldn't make it,” I say carefully, knowing I shouldn’t simply come out and ask where he is.
Agafon's entire demeanor changes in an instant. Shit, I think to myself. He’s too smart. He’s figured out where I was going with this.
His face shudders, the slight warmth in his eyes freezing over. His grip on my waist loosens, and his hands fall to his sides.
“My family's whereabouts are not your concern,” he says, voice clipped.
“I was just—”
“As my wife, you'll have certain responsibilities,” he continues as if I hadn't spoken. “You'll maintain the house to my standards. You'll attend functions with me when required. You'll represent the Letvin name with dignity.”
I almost stumble, caught off guard by his sudden shift into bossy territory.
“You'll be expected to—”
“Hold on.” I pull back slightly, interrupting his list of demands. “I agreed to marry you, not become your servant.”
His eyebrows lift a fraction. “This isn't a negotiation, Lilibeth.”
“Everything is a negotiation.” Growing up with four older brothers and a dozen domineering male cousins has taught me one thing: never show weakness. “And if we're discussing expectations, I have a few of my own.”
Agafon's mouth tightens. Around us, guests continue to dance, unaware of the tension between the bride and groom.
“Such as?” he asks, his voice soft but dangerous.
“Respect,” I say firmly. “Equal partnership in decisions that affect us both. And you never, ever dictate to me like I'm one of your underlings.”
For a moment, he says nothing. Then, unexpectedly, the corner of his mouth twitches. “I didn’t realize you had become so...spirited.”
“There's a lot that’s changed around here.” I hold his gaze. “So we understand each other?”
Agafon studies me, his calculating expression reminding me that this man didn't become the head of his family by being accommodating.
“We'll discuss this later,” he says finally. “In private.”
The music ends. As guests applaud our first dance, I wonder if I've just made a terrible mistake.
Chapter 4 - Agafon
I open the door to my house and stand aside, letting my bride enter first. When I watch Lilibeth stand there, half-in and half-out, dressed in all white, that’s when I realize this is no longer just my house.
For tonight, I had earlier asked all my guards to patrol the grounds and not be seen near the main structure. I don’t want Lilibeth to be unnecessarily nervous by the sight of guns. Though, of course, being an Orlov, she must be used to it by now.
