Vika had kept her promise, refusing to talk to me the day after the incident or any day after. I tried to engage her now and then by saying good morning as she came down to breakfast or wishing her a good night before Rose and I retired in the evening. For the longest time, all I got was a glare in reply. And that was if she acknowledged me at all.

Mama tried to step in once, but I had assured her it was alright before an argument could ignite. I knew Rose was also upset on my behalf, but it seemed like she had made the decision to quietly stand by me rather than confront my sister about her attitude. Personally, I was just grateful that Rose hadn't born any of my sister's anger. Vika would still address Rose casually—things like asking her to pass a pitcher of water or what time it was—but never engaged her in real conversation. I suspected that it was because I was there with Rose most of the time. She was my quiet support because as much as I tried to assure Mama and the others that I was fine with Vika's contempt, the truth was that it was a knife slowly twisting in my gut every time she refused to acknowledge me. I didn't regret my actions, and I'd do it again without hesitation if necessary, but the consequences still left a bruise on my ego.

All I could do was hope that she'd understand and forgive me one day.

I waited on the bed, watching Rose as we both dressed for today's church service. In my rush to join my family for the holidays, I had neglected to bring a suit, but I did what I could to dress up in something appropriate—which ended up being a simple pair of black slacks and a button-up shirt. Thankfully, Rose had found a few of my old ties when she first moved in and had set them aside. I adjusted the knot while Rose slipped on her deep plum dress. The color suited her, even if it was clear that she was less than comfortable with the outfit by how much she was fussing with it. It wasn't as if she had many options, though. Apparently, she only had two that she ever wore to church services—one that hit just below her during the summer and one that was long enough to hide her boots in the winter. When I asked if we should look at buying her something else, she brushed my worries aside, reminding me that she only pulled the dress out on the rare occasion.

I appreciated that Rose insisted on attending with the rest of us. She was still firmly agnostic, if not outright atheist, but her presence was a support for my family. My mother said that she didn't always attend services, something that was not held against her in the slightest, but she did make a point of attending with my family on the high holidays. Orthodox Christmas Day was one of those days.

She reached behind her for the zipper, stretching this way and that to try and pull it up before letting out a quiet huff. I let Rose struggle a moment longer before beckoning her closer. "Here, let me help."

She tried once more on her own before giving up the fight and stepping towards me, settling between my open knees before turning away so that I could help her. Pulling her hair to the side and over her shoulder, she offered me the expanse of her back. I gently traced a finger from the two molnija at her neck, past her shoulders, across the back strap of her bra, and down her spine until I stilled at the small of her back. I paused a moment when I heard her breath catch and felt her shiver at my touch, half debating with myself about whether or not I should actually take the dress off rather than zip it up.

The whole point of the church-appropriate dresses was to inspire modesty and holy thoughts, but there was absolutely no purity in my mind as I flirted with temptation….

No. My family was waiting just downstairs. If I delayed us any longer, we would certainly be late, and the only thing worse than not attending church in our little congregation was walking in late and disturbing those who were pious enough to get there on time.

I zipped up the dress, but I couldn't resist the urge to keep her under my hands a moment or two longer as I found her hips and turned her to face me.

"Thank you," she said, a slight breathlessness to her words. From the weight of her gaze, I knew that I wasn't the only one reconsidering the church services in favor of our own personal form of communion.

Again, I fought with my better judgment. "We should go," I said, trying to keep the bitterness from my tone with only mild success.

"We should." Her disappointment echoed mine as she reached for the silky white and purple Pavlovo Posad headscarf lying over the back of the desk chair earlier and a thick, slightly padded headband. Pulling her hair back, she laid the scarf across the top of her head like a crown and used two barely noticeable pins to secure the scarf in place before fussing with the ends uncertainly. She tied it under her chin like an old babushka one moment before changing her mind and tying it behind her at the nape of her neck. Then she'd unknot it again and toss one slightly wrinkled end over the opposite shoulder with an unsatisfied huff.

"Ugh, I never know how to deal with this thing," She lamented, meeting my eyes through the reflection in the mirror. "it always looks…wrong. Like I'm putting on some sort of costume. I know I have to have my hair covered, but why can't I just wear a baseball cap. Or better yet, a beanie or something. It's so freaking cold in that old church, and this flimsy piece of fabric does nothing—and I mean nothing—to keep me warm.

I chuckled, quickly imagining Rose in a beanie trying to blend in. "I'm sure you could always wear a beanie under the scarf."

Rose was shaking her head before I had even finished the suggestion. "Nope, tried it a few months ago, and Yeva basically tore the thing off my head. I think she was just mad that she hadn't thought of that genius idea first."

"What about this?" I took the pins out, placing all three between my teeth as I readjusted the scarf so that it barely covered the cushioned hairband before securing it in place again. Then I tugged a few strands of her hair out so that they framed her face on either side. Finally, I smoothed the white scarf to gently sit over her shoulders. No knots, no tucks, just a simple cover.

"How's that?" I asked, letting her glance at her own reflection.

She tilted her head a little, twirling one of the loose locks of hair around her finger for a moment. "You know that the whole point of this thing is to cover my hair, right?"

"Yes, but it would be a shame to cover it completely, don't you think?"

That made her smile. "I guess you're right."

"Amazing how often that happens," I joked, leaning down to kiss her temple and the place where silk and hair met,

She rolled her eyes, doing her best to hide her amusement before canting her head for a moment, brows furrowing.

"What?" I asked, suddenly worried. I tried to see what might be off, but she looked stunning. Granted, she always looked stunning in my eyes, even first thing in the morning when her hair was a mess of tangles and dreams still clung to her sleepy eyes. Actually, she was exceptionally stunning at those times. Still, something obviously stood out to her that I was oblivious to.

"It looks like a veil."

Now that she had mentioned it, it did look somewhat like a veil. It wasn't intentional, of course, but now that I saw it, I couldn't see anything else. The scarf was technically white, but it was also covered with purple and pink flowers, plus vines and leaves in various shades of green. It was hardly some wedding veil, but it only took a little imagination to replace the silk with lace and the formless cotton plum dress with one of the dozens of white gowns I'd seen Lissa try on over the past few weeks.

"Is that a problem?" I asked, hoping she would say no for more reasons than one. "Do you want to change it?"

Her lips parted, but whatever she was about to say faltered as we heard voices calling to us from the bottom of the stairs.

"We're coming!" She called back over her shoulder, loud enough that I knew they'd be able to hear her despite the closed door between us and the rest of the family.

I still waited on bated breath for her to tell me that she hated the scarf the way it was and for her to tie it back again. Instead, she gave her reflection one last glance, looked past it towards me, and offered me a tight but not unpleasant smile. "We should get going, or we're going to be late."

I wasn't sure if I was relieved or heartbroken.

I leaned down again, kissing her once more before taking her hand and leading us out of the room and the lingering questions left inside.

Immediately after the service, Rose and I went to change back into our normal attire and loaded up the car. I had unfortunately been called back to Court early and needed to catch a flight this evening if I wanted to arrive by tomorrow night. I wanted to stay longer, especially with so many things left unsaid. Not just between Rose and me but also between me and my sister. Something had changed a few days ago, and the anger in her silent glare had melted into something softer. She still refused to speak to me, but there seemed to be a new understanding. It only took me a couple of instances to realize that each time she looked at me, her eyes would immediately flit toward Sonya or Katya.

Ah, that must have been it. Sonya must have finally talked to her.

I was glad for it, not just because I might actually earn her forgiveness now, but because she would hopefully have enough understanding as to why I had acted the way I had and would now avoid men like Rolan from here on out.

Still, I allowed her her silence. Vika bore the Belikova name, and she was as stubborn as a mule like the rest of us. Rubbing things in her face with a 'told you so' would help nobody. She held back as I said my goodbyes to the others, promising to return as soon as I could between hugs and unshed tears. While saying goodbye was still hard, it was vastly easier than the last time. I had proven that I would come back, so it didn't feel like an empty promise for me to say it now.

My mother waved at me from the front porch, Paul beside her, sans jacket, alternating between waving and trying to warm his hand with his breath.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive," Rose asked as I opened the driver's side door. "I really don't mind."

"You're driving all the way back by yourself. You should rest a little." I thumped my boot against the side of the door to knock the packed snow off before stepping in so I could do the same with the other.

"DIMITRI!"

I all but jumped out of the car, tensing at the sound of my youngest sister's cry. Rose also had her hand on the door but relaxed a moment later as Vika threw herself into my arms.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered against my chest. "Sonya told me and—" she sniffled, tucking herself in tighter, "—and she told me what Rolan did and… I'm just so sorry."

I instantly felt lighter. "You don't have to be sorry, Vika. Guys like Rolan… that's what they do. They prey on others, and they hurt. They trick girls into thinking that they care and then use them."

"But the things I said to you—"

"—don't matter," I interjected, cutting her off. "None of that matters. You're safe. That's the only thing I care about. Everything else is just…well, let's just leave it in the past now, okay? All I ask is that you forget about guys like Rolan. Focus on your classes. Graduate. Make a name for yourself. If you want to settle down, then that's fine, but you're better than assholes that make you feel like you're only special because they give you the time of day. You are amazing in your own right, and a good man will see that and adore you because of it."

I couldn't help but glance at Rose over Vika's shoulder. Rose was someone Vika could look up to. Strong, independent, brave, and took no shit from anyone…including me. Especially me. Vika could learn a few things from her.

I pulled back, kissing my sister on the forehead. She shifted uncomfortably, but it wasn't my affection that made her uncomfortable. I looked down and let out a sharp laugh. "Where are your shoes?!"

Her socks were probably soaked and slowly giving her toes frostbite. She shrugged, wiping a tear from her eye and chuckling. "Inside. I just couldn't let you go without saying sorry. Thank you. You are… you're a good big brother, Dimitri. I'm sorry I was, you know, a bit of a bitch."

"You weren't."

I heard Rose chuckle at my blatant lie, and I sighed. "Okay…a little bit bratty, but I understood where you were coming from. Just promise me that you won't let something like this happen again. You're better than people like that. Know it. Remember it. Own it."

"I will," Vika said, assuring me as she shifted from one side to the other to keep her socks from sticking to the ground. "I promise."

"Now get inside before you freeze, okay?" I gave her one last kiss on the top of her head before ruffling her hair and pushing her towards the door. I started the car, heat on full blast to melt the last of the frost from the windows, but I waited until both Vika and my Mama were safely inside before pulling away.

"Feel better?" Rose asked as we turned onto the country road that would eventually lead us to the main highway. I felt her hand cover mine where it was resting on the center console, so I flipped it palm up so I could intertwine our fingers.

"Yeah. Much better."