"It's time to wake up," Ivan said gently.
Yao blinked away and covered a yawn with his fingertips. Early morning sunlight poured in through the windows. The heavy, thick weight of sleep in a moving vehicle pressed down on Yao, who still yearned for another moment of sleep. Ivan opened the door and slipped out, followed by Yao. He pulled out several notes from his pocket and paid the cabby, bidding him farewell.
A cool chill rolled through the empty area. A dirt road stretched down a grassy hill, giving the illusion that they went on into the distant snow-topped mountains. The yellow grass shivered, dotted with snow in several areas.
"I'm sorry. It's a bit of a walk. I thought that we could use this distance to stretch our legs." Ivan explained, starting down the hill with Yao walking sleepily behind him. The walk took half an hour and by the end Yao was quite awake. On the journey, they came across several women in kerchiefs tending the cows and chickens. Small farms were planted along the area, but just short of the house there was no one in sight. Once they reached the front, Ivan stopped and pointed to the left. "There's a few shops there, to buy the bare necessities, and," he directed Yao to the right, "there is a small village in that direction. The shops to the left are for travelers and the village is for the villagers." He chuckled at his own joke and pulled a key from his pocket, unlocking the gate.
Yao figured that the house would look lovelier in the spring and summer. Now it looked bare and gray. A naked tree cast its shadow over the large house. The house itself was bright and welcoming with two stories and a garden in the front. Some plants that could survive the winter peeked over the clumps of snow.
"Do you like it?" Ivan said, pushing the door open. Inside it was far better. Nineteenth century styled furniture decorated the inside. "Allow me to take this," Ivan said, picking up Yao's trunk. He had dragged it behind him for the walk, insisting on carrying it despite Ivan's protests. Yao still started to argue but Ivan swiped it away and took it into a vast room with a bed in the middle, laden with fresh sheets and sunlight. He set it on the ground and went into the other room. "Do what you want to get comfortable. I've already brought my things."
"When did you do that?" Yao said, baffled. As far as he knew, Ivan had recently purchased this home and had been in battle for a majority of that time.
Ivan shrugged, "I sent my things about the same time I offered to bring you here."
"Offered…? No, I heard that you bought me." Yao retorted, following Ivan into the other room. It was far simpler than his. A bed with a brown quilt sat in the middle, with a bedside table empty except for a jug of water.
"Then you didn't hear correctly. Sit, I'll tell you the story." Ivan said in a serious tone. His cheeks paled as he sat down, shedding his fur coat and scratching his chest. From his neck a chain dangled. The item at the end remained hidden under his shirt. Yao sat next to him, feeling quite comfortably against this man, having only known him for a day.
"Go on, I'm listening." Yao said, crossing his arms.
"Well, let's see. I won't tell you it all because I like to have suspense when I tell a story. I'll only correct you on one matter—that I bought you. I made no such purchase. Something happened that caused me to turn to the Prince, or rather noble, of that country and I offered to take this task on. There's your story."
Yao made no comment, grunting and standing up. "Do you want tea?" He asked.
"I would like some," Ivan said. His face changed again, becoming dark and troubled.
Yao took of his shoes and padded barefoot to the kitchen. A window showed the backyard clearly. In the distance the gray mountains were visible. Yao found a box of tea leaves and started preparing them. He investigated the kitchen. He knew little of cooking, having had servants serve him for most of his life. The other part is when his title of "prince" became meaningless and he was known as a "noble". The details were blurry still to him. All he knew was that he suddenly went away from his group of people and ended up in the denser part of the city. When he came there his servants would do less work and he had to learn some cooking for himself when they left on certain days. Tea and soup were his strengths. Perhaps he could treat Ivan to some at one point.
Ivan walked in sometime later, pulling up a wooden chair and sitting down. Yao poured him a glass and set it before him and got himself a cup. They sat across each other, their arms resting on the table. Silence filled the house, utter and complete. The familiar clatter of horse-drawn carriages was long gone, along with the constant bustle of the city.
Yao bowed his head. I'll go into a frenzy before long, he thought; it's too silent.