Author's Note: Okay, I must apologize for taking so long on this chapter. My job has sapped the majority of my energy and I'm trying to get over a cold, so I've been too tired to write and had to go straight to bed as soon as I would get home, since I work this awful swing shift. Being an adult is lame. Don't do it. I hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving holiday, you Americans and Canadians, and the rest of you, a happy week. Enjoy chapter three! I'll try to write and post the next one as soon as possible, but cut me some slack and try to be patient and loyal at the same time. My job is tough and unforgiving. Postage might not come as often as I would like to do it. Please enjoy chapter three and review with constructive criticism and positive feedback. LOVE!
When Rose finally managed to pry her eyes open, the sun was high in the sky, signaling it was roughly half-past noon. Her exhausted body demanded more sleep to restore her strength, and she hadn't remembered the time difference. Stretching with a yawn, she pushed the bed-covers back and climbed out of bed. Hearing the clink of a glass and what sounded like a decanter in the study, Rose followed her ears, thinking maybe Dimitri would wish to begin teaching her his language. They could at least communicate vaguely in English, but he was even more fluent a speaker than her own pitiful, broken attempts.
Now she kicked herself for not paying more attention to her studies, but she had always preferred going out to play than to sit in front of parchment and ink. Her father had smiled fondly and allowed it, feeling that it was more important to associate with her people than to be locked away with nothing but books and tutors. And when her skills as a tracker and a huntress became renowned among the Gaels, it had done him proud. Ibriham delighted in taking her on the hunts along with him and the other nobles and their sons, much to her mother, Janine's dismay. He had been so sure her beautiful face and practical interests might snare a fine husband to rule their clan at her side. But little did he know at the time: the Slavs should carry her off and kill him before she could get the chance.
Rose's feet lightly padded over the cool wooden floor and bear skin rugs as she crept quietly into the study where Dimitri seemed to be finishing his lunch and looking over a mound of paperwork. His back was to her, so he wouldn't see her arrival, but she took a moment to admire the way the sun shone brightly through the windows, casting a glowing sort of halo about his soft, golden-brown hair. Rose smiled when she thought of his hair as the same toasty brown as the crust of rye bread, freshly baked on the hearth, or the honey tones of pungent amber ale. Those lustrous, chestnut tresses fell just past his shoulders with a gentle curl, balancing the taut muscles of his back that she had just barely made out where they hid beneath his shirt. She had noticed the way it had softened his beautiful, angular face, and she longed to slowly pull her fingers through those silken strands only the night before when she had kissed him as he slept.
Rose blushed when she remembered the way he had kissed her back as he slowly began to waken, and the warmth that had spread through her at his response. How had she become such a minx of a girl? Composing herself, she decided to announce her presence, feeling his name roll off her lips. She understood he must be the sovereign of this land, but she only knew him by a name.
"Dimitri." The word felt like honeyed silk on her tongue. It sounded different than the way he had said it, because of her accent, but the effect hadn't been any less decadent.
She watched as Dimitri put his quill down, and stood, before stepping away from his desk and turning around to greet her… but as his gaze found her, he froze. Confusion seized Rose as she saw Dimitri's amber eyes widen until she was sure they would fall out of his face. She blinked. She could have sworn they were nearly black in the darkness of last night, not the brilliant, coppery-gold they were now.
Rose began to feel more and more that this man was the most beautiful human she had ever met… like a Greek Adonis… but then she didn't understand why he was staring at her.
Dimitri groaned, his eyes rolling heavenward, but staying on the ceiling. Rose was confused but when she looked at her appearance, she saw why and it caused her cheeks to flush scarlet with embarrassment as she tried to cover herself better. Dimitri called for someone as he went to pick up his dressing robe of olivine green silk and draped it around Rose's shoulders. His intent was to cover up her willowy frame that was obviously visible beneath her silver chiffon gown, and make her modest the best he could without looking. She slapped his hands away, knowing she could do it on her own, now that she had something to cover herself with. She'd forgotten the fur cloak in the bedroom. Rose had never worn anything like this before, and had forgotten she was indecent at all, in spite of the Prince's intent to make her Dimitri's concubine.
Looking up at where Dimitri had turned with his back to her, she huffed, raking her dark curls back from her face with her fingers.
"I'm covered now," she snapped at him, and he sighed, shaking his head, before turning to face her, trying to hide the rosy glow that had invaded his cheeks. Rose raised an eyebrow, suddenly amused by how terrible he was blushing, so much that his sun-kissed face was flaming red, from his neck to his forehead, to the tips of his ears. She bit her lip, trying to repress her giggles, but it manifested in a snort, which turned into hilarious, hiccuping chortles as she squeezed her stomach and fell back onto the sofa, unable to hold in her laughter.
It seemed to only make Dimitri's embarrassment worse, but she could have sworn she saw him fighting a smile as he looked away from her. She could see the corners of his mouth quivering with the sheer willpower it took to attempt to remain dignified, and somehow it only made her laugh harder.
Rose supposed the hysterical stress of recent events had begun to creep into her sense of reason and chip away at her decorum.
The woman who had dragged her around and used her as a human pincushion the night before bustled in, bobbing a curtsy to Dimitri and looked at Rose. Instantly shutting up, Rose bit her lip as a few words were exchanged between the Lord of the house and who she supposed was the housekeeper, before he turned to her, switching to English.
"Roza, this is Alberta, the royal housekeeper. Please go with her. She will take you to the seamstress to have you dressed in more… appropriate… attire. I have some business to take care of, but I should be finished when you return, and then we may begin our lesson, da?" he asked, watching her intently. Rose took a moment for her mind to catch up with what he told her, and she nodded. However, she paused, and motioned to the green dressing robe she was currently concealed in with her eyes, asking him the silent question. Finally, he smiled.
"Take it with you. You may bring it back when you are finished… As you can see, I am decently clothed," he said with a playful twinkle in those lovely honey eyes, bringing another blush to Rose's cheeks. It wasn't fair for him to be so beautiful. She wanted to hate him like the other princes who had treated her so cruelly the night before, but she could not because of his gentle kindness towards her. Instead, she gave a swift nod, and followed Alberta out of the royal suite and down to the seamstress. Her measurements were taken, and she was given undergarments, and then dressed in an array of fabrics of all different colors and patterns, furs, silks, brocades and damasks of reds, blues, greens, black, silver, and gold.
Rose felt like an over-decorated confection.
As the seamstresses began to create their orders, Alberta dressed Rose in a deep red skirt, trimmed with a wide black and gold border, painted with rosebuds, and fitted with a black bodice over the long, white linen sleeves. Combing her waist-length, walnut brown hair, and arranging it into a long thick braid, Alberta tied Rose's braid with a crimson ribbon and draped it over her shoulder, before placing the red and gold kokoshnik on her head. At last, Rose finally looked like a respectable Russian woman, as she was considered to be the Tsar's concubine.
Rose knew better though. She pulled on the beautifully embroidered valenkis over her feet to protect her toes from the cold of the indoor and outdoor elements, and stood, ready to be escorted back to the Tsar, either for their lesson, or for him to figure out what to do with her in the meantime. When Alberta returned her to the royal suite, Dimitri was still busy, so Rose respectfully went to the sofa to sit with her hands in her lap as she waited for him to tell her otherwise.
Dimitri had been in the last stretch of his paperwork for the day, and was reviewing the list of exports and imports to Rus' when his new charge arrived. He was acutely aware of her as she moved to the sofa and sat down without uttering a peep. He smiled when he smelled her perfume lightly floating on the air, but he waited to look at her. Dimitri waited until he could feel that she wasn't watching him to steal a glance at her, feeling his heart give a silly flutter. She was so beautiful, dressed as one of his people, the bold, rich colors suited to her striking coloring. Rose was a breathtaking beauty normally, but Dimitri felt she was even more so as she sat there, gazing about the library furnishings looking every bit a Russian princess. Even if she was the princess of the Gaels, Dimitri decidedly felt that she belonged right where she was… here with him…
He quickly returned to his work when she turned back to look at him, hoping she hadn't caught him staring.
"Ty vygljadiš' ochen' krasivya," he spoke to her, seeing her startle out of the corner of his eye, and smiling, but not looking up from his paperwork as she stared at him. Rose was quiet, watching him intently, as if she was expecting him to clarify what he said, but Dimitri was taking a strange, mischievous delight in keeping her on her toes.
"I don't understand," she piped up, telling him flatly. Dimitri grinned and continued making notes on his work.
"Ty vygljadiš' ochen' krasivya," he repeated. "You look very pretty. Ty means 'You', vygljadiš' is a form for 'look', ochen' means 'very' but the literal translation to English is 'big', and 'krasivya' means 'pretty.' Krasivaja would mean 'beautiful' if you were speaking to a female, but if you were speaking to a male, you would say 'krasivyj' for 'handsome.' Does that make sense?" Dimitri asked after the brief explanation. He finished his paperwork for the day and gathered it up neatly and put it all in its proper place before turning to look at her, smiling with encouragement.
Rose said nothing, and only had a dazed expression on her face, clearly indicating that she hadn't had a clue to any of the malarkey he had just said. Either that or she was still trying to wrap her head around the foreign phrases. When she finally looked at him and shook her head negatively, he chuckled and stood up, stretching his long legs. He made his way over to one of the shelves loaded with books, and pulled a few down, bringing them to the sofa she sat in, as well as a tablet of parchment, a quill, and an ink-pot. The books were on elementary letters, books he had spent hours of his childhood poring over as he learned to read and write as a boy. He figured it best to start from scratch, going from the bottom and up to the more advanced lessons at her set pace.
Dimitri beckoned Rose to his desk, smiling. Timidly, as if she were afraid he could turn into a three headed, man eating monster, Rose stood and carefully made her way over to Dimitri, where he pulled out the chair, and pushed it in after he convinced her to sit. He pulled up an extra chair for him to sit in as he pulled out the letter book, and an old wax tablet and stylus to practice drawing her letters in. He opened the book, and began to teach her each letter, its shape, its name, its sound, and how to remember it, a gentle smile on his face each moment he spent with this peculiar girl. Rose made it so easy to forget the weight of his responsibility as the Tsar of all Rus'. She enabled Dimitri to really live in the moment as he studied her, intrigued by her many expressions and reactions to her environment. There was never a moment he became bored when he was with this devastatingly beautiful woman. Even if his intent wasn't the same as the princes had hoped, he was thoroughly diverted by a feminine face for the first time in years.
As Dimitri taught Rose her letters, he was enjoying himself far too much to notice the spy watching through their door.
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"What do you mean? I brought the chit back for him to bed! Not to have him teach her nursery songs!" Ivan roared, knocking over his meal tray as he paced the room. The spy's master, Prince Lucas of Novgorod chuckled as he picked at the bread and salted tomato that had been served with his caviar and vodka. Lucas's long black hair was tied back at the nape of his neck with a leather thong, and his thin, pencil mustache was neatly trimmed above his upper lip, curled lightly at the ends.
Lucas enjoyed watching Ivan squirm. For a man so hostile, he sure could get worked up and uncomfortable, Lucas noted with his cool, calculating blue eyes. But, it was to be expected with one so unstable as Prince Ivan of Kiev, and the General Commander of the Imperial army.
"Cousin, allow him to have his fun with his new plaything. Who knows? Perhaps the minx will entice him to the bedroom with enough time. Women do need to be wooed before they are bedded. You know that as well as any, after all…" he drawled, before a wicked smirk tugged at his thin lips. "Well, willingly anyway. I know you have no qualms against forcing them against their will and seem to enjoy it and regale us with your boasts. It does make the Tsar quite ashen in the face when you do. He's too much of the Queen Mother's son to behave the way a red-blooded man like you would do given the circumstance," he chuckled cruelly, before throwing back his vodka.
Ivan ignored Lucas's attempts to jibe at him, continuing to pace the parlor. Dimitri needed an heir. The sooner the better, whether it was by an unmarried concubine or a new Tsarina; either way, they needed a child to help secure the outcome of the monarchy. Ivan knew he ought to be patient and let things be so they could grow at their own pace, but he hated waiting.
Unfortunately, the choice was out of his hands. Dimitri had the final say, and it was his decision to find a wife, or to sleep with the girl and get her with child.
"You are going to wear a hole in that rug, Cousin. Come and drink with me," Lucas called lazily as he broke off a chunk of his bread and slathered it with buttery caviar and lemon, and eating it with his tomato slices, as if he hadn't a care in the world but for how delicious his meal was.
Annoyed with Lucas's nagging, Ivan stomped over to the chaise that Lucas lounged in, and swiped the bottle of vodka, and chugged half the bottle before slamming it back on the table impudently. "There! Happy? Now shut up," he snapped, before going back to stalking. Vodka wasn't his favorite. He preferred a glass of Gin over the clear, flavorless liquor, but Ivan was tired of Lucas whining at him to sit down and keep him company.
Actually, he was certain he'd only feel better after killing something, but Dimitri was currently too preoccupied by a fresh, buxom beauty in his chambers to consider a hunting trip, and Lucas was too pathetic to get his hands dirty. He growled, before stalking off to the rooms he stayed in, calling for one of the courtesans to keep him company for the rest of the night.
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"That was very good, Rose," Dimitri said with an encouraging smile as Rose finally managed to recite the Cyrillic alphabet correctly as she drew the letters into the wax tablet for the umpteenth time. It had taken her a while to finally get her mouth to form the sounds properly, and the way her accent distorted them had quietly amused him, for he didn't want to embarrass her by saying anything. He gently patted her shoulder before calling for supper and spiced tea, knowing the warm liquid would soothe her tired throat.
When Dimitri finally turned around, he chuckled softly when he saw his charge slumped over the desk, her gentle breath lightly fluttering the stacks of parchment as ink began to smudge her face. He shook his head, feeling the steady warmth of affection swelling within his chest as he watched Rose's beautiful, but sleepy features. He needed to find a more permanent place for her to sleep after he managed to get some food in her, but she was so lovely, even with her head resting on his desk and her face getting smudged with ink, that Dimitri wasn't sure he possessed the heart to disturb her. Perhaps, he could spend the night in his library for another night and put her to bed without waking her. Her poor, tired body had not fully recovered, but Dimitri admired the brave face she had worn as they studied, even though she struggled to keep from nodding off in the chair.
He sank into the sofa, and watched her, content not to disturb her as they waited for a servant to bring up something for them to satisfy their bellies with before bed, and he sighed. Dimitri couldn't understand why Ivan would ever think he could just use this woman as something to pass the time. She was helping him pass time all right, but there was so much to discover about her, that much was clear. Rose was an enigma with so many different facets and colors that it would take a very long time for Dimitri to discover them all…
Perhaps it would be worth the wait and the time spent becoming acquainted with all of those beautiful glimmers of emotion hidden just beneath the surface of her angelic face…
He became lost in his thoughts as he watched her, wondering what she must be feeling as she was held captive in this place, so far from her world, and isolated from her people… Dimitri wondered what she thought of him. He flinched when he realized she must be terrified of him, and it left a cold, hollow feeling inside the pit of his stomach. Afraid was something he didn't want her to be with him…
But, as he thought of it, he was almost certain he had felt those perfectly soft, plump lips pressed to his last night… Certainly, if that kiss hadn't been a dream, Rose would never have made so forward of a move if she was afraid of him… would she?
