Every time they saw each other, Nadia surprised him with another outfit. This time she was running around the garden in dark, close-fitting pants decorated with a wide, white trim, tucked into long red sneakers with a loosened upper. The top of the outfit was a rather loose long-sleeved blouse slightly revealing the stomach, also with white stripes on the sides. She tied her hair high in a long ponytail. Around her ran a black and gray, fluffy ball on surprisingly long, four legs. He adjusted his short vest over a white long-sleeved T-shirt that draped over a pair of close-fitting maroon sports pants. Coming closer, Robert recognized a Siberian husky puppy in a strange creature. He remembered that the girl's father kept a breeding farm and a sledge herd. She was throwing a neon yellow ball in front of her, and the toddler ran as hard as he could to return it to its owner. Jurgens stood behind her back, a hairy ball with a toy in its teeth jumped up to the girl's legs. Puppy bristled and bared tiny snow-white teeth. She turned, completely taken aback.
- Oh, I forgot you were coming, forgive me. - she sighed, smiling so that he was able to forgive her everything. - As you can see Nikita is probably used to me, since he rushes to defense.
- There is nothing to protect you from, I will not hurt you. - he replied truthfully.
She grabbed the toddler by the sides and put it on herself, hugging the soft fur. He wondered if if he tried to pet the pooch he would stick the needles in his hand.
- Don't worry, won't bite. - she said as if reading his mind, then took his hand gently and placed it on the round head.
The puppy growled angrily for a moment, but as soon as the boy scratched him a bit, he began to purr and demand more. He recorded it with great sadness - she took a small hand to grasp the little one more confidently. He studied the funny face. Two different irises looked at him - one blue, the other hazel. A navy blue collar with a gold medallion was fastened at the back of his neck. The animal apparently got to know new people very quickly. As soon as he sniffed Robert's hand, he stopped bristling completely and began wagging his tail happily. He hoped the toddler sensed good intentions.
- Interesting puppy ... - he muttered, looking directly at her.
- Jaksa, the female dog from the herd, littered a few weeks ago. Dad made plans to put all the little ones on the harness when they get older. He didn't want this one, just because of his eyes. Apparently it will not present itself. Plus, it doesn't look like he's going to grow up to be a big and strong husky. He was the smallest of the entire litter. - she said, ruffling the fur on puppy's face. - I begged my parents not to sell it. He's mine now.
He smiled at her, watching her put the dog on the ground, and Nikita happily rushes to the ball lying on the grass. The girl turned and walked over to a nearby table. She reached for the wide navy blue leash lying on it, then returned.
- Are you going for a walk with us or would you prefer to sit with my parents? - she asked a bit sarcastically. - They will surely be happy to discuss various topics with you ...
- Your parents are very nice, but I prefer your company. - he replied with a smile.
They walked along a forest path within the property area. The puppy spun around them, occasionally running away a little further, looking for the stick she had thrown. He didn't know where to start. Wanted to tell her so much, ask her so much. They walked side by side, he was watching her surreptitiously. It seemed to him that her eye was swaying every now and then. He took her hand gently. Her skin was incredibly smooth and warm. She didn't pull away, didn't break away. In fact, he had the impression that she moved half a step, and a smile appeared on her face.
- What do you think about this case? - he demanded.
- Hm? - she wondered, looking at him.
- Forgot? You promised me that when you got to know me better, you'll tell me what you think about our matchmaking relationship. - he reminded calmly.
- You're right ... - she thought. - A lot has changed since then. I see fewer and fewer minuses.
- I expected a more specific answer. - he laughed.
- Ask, maybe I'll say more. - She looked at him coquettishly.
He had one question on the tip of his tongue, but knew it was still too early. He stared at those honey irises, unable to take eyes off them. He pulled himself together, hoping she would react as he wanted. His fingers tightened a little tighter on her palm, pulling it towards him.
- Nadia, I ... - he began.
- NIKITA! Get out of these bushes! - she squeaked suddenly, tearing her hand away and rushing towards the puppy.
The toddler reached her as if nothing had happened, cuddling and climbing onto her legs. She crouched down beside him, checking the fur, then hastily fastened the carabiner.
- Marodery*! - she shook her finger at him. - We don't eat poisonous plants.
Robert walked up to her hurriedly, watching her pull out fragments of leaves from the white-and-gray hair.
- He's okay? - he asked concerned.
- Yes ... at least I didn't find anything. - she explained, looking at the pillows on the dogs feet.
She glanced at something that was strapped to her pants. Her hand tightened on the leash, then stood up and faced the way back.
- It's time to go back. - she replied calmly, smiling at him. - Hope you're hungry. Dinner is waiting.
Robert thought about what had happened in the last few months as he sipped his jasmine tea. Sighed deeply. If someone had told him at the very beginning that everything would turn out the way it would turn out, he would have laughed at him or called him a fool ...
He came back from the European Championship with the title, proud as a peacock, pleased with himself. At breakfast, instead of congratulations or even questions about how it went, he got a handful of information that his parents had organized a meeting during his absence, not entirely business. When he asked what it was, they bluntly replied that he would meet his future wife. Robert didn't react, but mentally cursed ugly. It was unthinkable to do something like this behind his back without even asking. Ultimately, he decided he would give them a chance, and what if the choice was not that bad, but he wasn't even a little excited. They told a little story, and the farther into the forest, the more his expression thinned. Nadezhda Ingrid Koroliov, the younger daughter of the owners of a Russian clothing company, the first face of their brand, a figure skating champion. He tried to imagine her. In his head an image of a mannered, empty, blonde-haired girl, fawn for money, thinking only of her nails, having a voice that could break glass. No, it couldn't have worked. Still, he didn't express his opinion aloud, sticking to the version that it was just his imagination. Ultimately, it turned out that he was not so far from the truth. Together with his distinguished parents, he was faced by a year younger, filigree girl with a fashionable blonde hairstyle, wearing a white blouse decorated with delicate folklore embroidery, tied under the breasts, and a long, red skirt with black heels protruding from underneath. He was drawn to her eyes, as if a bit shyly, restrained, hiding the honey glow under the lids. He sighed heavily, seeing that even her nails matched the outfit. The first surprise came shortly after that moment of consternation and writing it all off as he almost turned on his heel, destroying all the efforts of mother and father.
- Hello, Master Robert. - she said to him in a low, but still feminine, slightly hoarse voice, contrary to her appearance.
The way she pronounced his name made him feel a strong shiver run down his spine, from the base of his pelvis to the very top of his skull. As if lightning struck him. It still didn't get the job, he wouldn't marry a girl for the tone of her voice. Everyone was invited to dinner. They sat facing each other. She seemed to be very calm, surprisingly orderly, she spoke rarely, and if ever she spoke very accurately, intelligently, with humor. He frowned. There was a catch somewhere. He searched on, listening to the terms of the parental agreement with one ear. The fastest way to get married was when both of them reached the age of majority, i.e. after two years, unless exceptional situations occurred that would make it impossible to enter into a relationship. Until then, families have time to complete the formal matters of joint business to announce new ones to the world on the occasion of an engagement or ceremony. He admitted silently that they had prepared well for this conversation. The break-up conditions were so special that it was almost impossible. However, everything can be circumvented somehow. He decided to find a method. After the meal, the parents enjoyed tea and cakes in the afternoon sun, and he, as a young man from a good home, heir of the family, invited the girl for a walk in the garden. She surprised him once again. He expected empty conversations on uninteresting topics, or even endless blonde monologues, since they were already alone. She walked beside him, equal to his pace, in complete silence, keeping her expression proud. He was even more surprised when she finally opened her mouth.
- Parents are watching us, I think it would be appropriate at least to pretend to be a conversation. - she said quietly, not looking at him at all. - I guess you'd rather be somewhere else now, but we both need to grit our teeth and survive.
Were it not for the fact that she was right and it is worthwhile for them to at least pretend, he would have stopped completely bewildered. Instead, he walked by, watching. She kept staring at the horizon.
- What do you think about this whole thing? - he asked finally.
- Well well! You are the first person to ask me this! - She laughed a pearl, and he sensed irony in the tone of her voice. - What I think ... I don't know. I do not know you. I will think and say when I get to know at least a little.
This answer intrigued him, but he still felt there was nothing to get excited about. He quietly hoped that it would require no more attention than was appropriate. Well, he really hoped that they would get along enough to avoid the marriage. How wrong he was, although in truth she did not require, but triggered a desire.
- Master Robert?
A low voice and a warm hand on his shoulder awoke him from lethargy. He still had the cup of tea in his hand. Looked back. Behind him stood a sedate, graying man in a tasteful tailcoat, the most trusted person in the entire mansion.
- Yes, Gustav?
- Everything is ready. - the man announced.
- So it's time to go to Moscow. - He replied calmly getting up from the chair.
- Have a good trip, Master.
He didn't think things would turn out that way, but was pleased to find that he enjoyed this version of events. He couldn't wait to see her reaction.
~~~*~~~
She lay on the bed, staring blankly at the material falling heavily from top to bottom. Vasyl curled up close to her, keeping his head against her hand so she could scratch him from time to time. She should be in charge of scrutinizing her sister's designs, but she had no mind for it. As soon as she closed her eyes, she saw his smiling face. Usually, he was so economical in his feelings and reactions that she would remember the sight forever, as did the touch of a warm hand. And to think that this relationship started out weirder than she might have imagined.
She was sitting in her office, buried with a ton of documents and invoices, trying to sort them out, completely forgetting that she could hire an accountant for this. Well ... she couldn't ... Parents thought it was too important and a family matter to entrust it to unknown hands. Especially if they have a scientific mind in this family with a love of numbers and pedantic aspirations. They both entered the office, which heralded important news. She poked her nose out of the papers, never taking her eyes off the data. She loosened the black satin at the neck and unbuttoned one button on the collar of her white blouse. They didn't even ask her opinion as usual. They reported something about some departure, she heard the mention of someone's husband and some petticoat that Tina had left in her room. She agreed to anything, leafing through tables and piles of bills at the same time, with which she had to make it by evening, hoping that the sooner she nodded, the sooner they would leave. The next morning, when her mother fell into a crash more than when she had torn the white tights on her knees as a child, she found out exactly what was going on. They flew to GERMANY to meet HER future husband. And the set consisting of a ruffled white blouse and a long red skirt and black long high-heeled ankle boots was sewn especially for this occasion. If she had been given a choice, she would have chosen something else. Unfortunately. It was supposed to subtly show that her sister is not an accidental artist, but a full-mouthed designer. She even drew a manicure for her to match the outfit. Everything seemed perfect, until she slipped her unfortunate shoes on to her feet. They had to be sewn in a great hurry, or the leather did not part properly. Unfortunately, mother didn't care about the groans that they were too narrow - there was no time to change, she had to bite her teeth and stay in them for one day. To make it on time, she underwent several cosmetic procedures, including nail painting, which she hated, already on the plane. In the meantime, her blonde hair was tied up in intricate braids cascading down her back, and her parents, mainly her mother, described in flowery words her beloved, Robert Jurgens, with whom she was definitely enchanted to the limit. A handsome, influential seventeen-year-old, individual European champion in Beyblade, a talented businessman with an architect's flair. She wondered what he might look like. She closed her eyes. In her mind, a tall, well-built young man stood in front of her, with a gel-like haircut, a shirt buttoned up to the last button, a perfectly pressed suit, boring with stock bollards and a brand new, freshly waxed varnish of a sports car, complaining that Bey was only a momentary whim because he is bored, and he does not have the time, strength or desire for another sport. Only the gym, so that the suit looks good. She asked no one to mention that she is the Russian champion, especially since she was not present at the European Championship. Parents agreed without further questions, as if relieved. Well, they didn't really like the fact that their daughter took up something like that. At first they thought it was just a whim ... She glanced out the plane's window, lifting her feet painfully tight in her shoes. They flew just above his castle. With amusement, she asked if they had mistaken the Jurgensian estate for Dracula's palace, to which her mother grunted, lest she accidentally spilled this inappropriate joke in the company of the hosts. Of course she wasn't going to honor anyone else with this. She knew how to behave. She was taught etiquette and savoir-vivre from an early age. As soon as she saw him, she tried to keep her face as neutral but slightly smiling, a bit like the Mona Lisa. It wasn't easy. Robert was pretty much in keeping with what she had imagined in the flight. Tall, well, but not overly built, in a perfectly tailored suit, though the fact that he had no gel-coated hair looked much more assertive than she had expected. The type that barely speaks and requires miracles. She thought it would be an interesting challenge, especially since she liked his appearance nonetheless, and the top button of the collar was unfastened.
- Hello, Master Robert. - she said, bowing slightly.
- Miss Nadia ... - he replied calmly, taking her hand gallantly and kissing the tiny knuckles.
She was relieved to accept the invitation to the table. She could give her sore feet a rest. She tried to listen intently to the conversation, while enjoying the slightly diminishing feeling of pressure. She had expected a more demanding discussion, but it was only chilled to her when she heard the terms of the parental agreement that 99% of the marriage would happen between her and a boy who carefully scrutinized her from the opposite side of the table. She wasn't naïve enough to believe that apart from Beyblade they would find any thread of understanding, he didn't seem talkative. She had to approach him, check him out, although she did not predict a long and happy future for this relationship, which she had been quietly counting on. There was something about those brown eyes ... She was glad her parents had agreed not to mention her title. She also did not regret that her mother and sister had categorically forbidden her to wear a snake bracelet. She avoided uncomfortable questions.
After dinner, her parents enjoyed tea and cakes, and she, whether she wanted it or not, agreed to take a walk in the garden. It was beautiful, smelling of roses, and perfectly in view of the mothers. She expected him to take care of the situation a little, and pro-forma would ask her about anything, even her favorite color or how the flight was going. She noticed that he was not happy with her visit from the beginning, as was she with the uncomfortable shoes, forcing her to bite her lip from the inside so as not to frown and walk relatively straight. Was his company disturbing her? She couldn't tell, especially since she didn't know him. She knew, however, that he was drawing her eyes, which he fortunately did not seem to notice. She glanced at her parents, then at him. The men, however, guessed very little.
- Parents are watching us, I think it would be appropriate at least to pretend to be a conversation. - she said softly, trying to ignore the pain in her toes and look straight ahead. - I guess you'd rather be somewhere else now, but we both need to grit our teeth and survive.
Apparently she surprised him because he slowed down a bit. The cold strategist was too busy devising a tactic to put it into practice. It looked as if she had to help him a little, though she wasn't quite sure how. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him watching. She was pleased to see she caught his attention.
- What do you think about this whole thing? - he asked suddenly, looking into the distance.
His voice made her feel strange ... but nice. It was like the silky touch of satin.
- Well well! You are the first person to ask me this! - She laughed pearlly. - What I think ... I don't know. I do not know you. I will think and say when I get to know at least a little.
She didn't know what else to say to him. Especially since she had to concentrate hard on carefully treading so as not to twist her ankle. Returning home, she kept thinking about the handsome, albeit reserved, German. She thought he might be more interesting than he looked, even though he was sometimes horribly old for a seventeen-year-old.
Something heavy fell next to her face. She woke up from the memories, catching the incoming ball of white and gray barking fur. The snake lying near her raised its head.
- Dina, someone's coming. - he hissed, not looking at her. - I think it's that German of yours.
Nadia looked out the window. He was right. She knew this plane, she had seen it many times while in his castle. She wondered why he was bothering. She hadn't heard him appear. Decided to meet him to find out.
Marodery - [rus.] Marauder