14. Rusalka

14

RUSALKA

The next few days fall into an uneasy rhythm. I don’t want to push Belladonna, to preach to her. She’s had enough of that in her life. Instead, I set about showing her around her new home. We meander through the shops in the square and then venture outward in slow spirals that take days. I show her how the homes and families are arranged: the most vulnerable of our population closer to the center, and those trained in defense closer to the edges. We haven’t had war in a very long time, but there are other dangers. Hellcats, in particular—known to eat the unwary person—not to mention the other large predators that make their homes in the forests of my territory.

The community gardens delight her so much that she forgets her nerves and shame and quizzes the head gardener, Bogdan, about the plants until he huffs in surrender and tells her that if she’s going to take up his time, the least she can do is help. I watch closely, ready to jump in if Belladonna wilts, but she just smiles and says, “Teach me. Please.”

The next day, she’s out there before I’m even up, dressed in pants and a tunic that she must have asked someone for, because I know they weren’t among the items I ordered for her wardrobe. I wouldn’t know she’d gone if I were working like I normally would be, holed up in my study. Right about now, I should be taking my coffee as I read through correspondence to figure out what needs to be responded to quickly and what can be left for a later hour.

Instead I’m on the west balcony of the manor, sipping my coffee and watching Belladonna and Bogdan in the garden. I can see most of the village from here, and though I can’t pick up Belladonna’s features at this distance, I can see that her body language is relaxed and easy. Even Bogdan has lost some of the customary tension he maintains; I’ve only ever seen him this patient when teaching the village children.

“She seems to be settling in.”

“In some ways.” I don’t look over to where Inna leans against the balcony. My court has been checking up on me throughout each day, and they can’t quite decide if they’re worried or pleased. I’m not acting like myself.

Inna sighs. “I didn’t really want to be the one to have this conversation with you, but we drew straws, so here I am.”

That’s enough to have me turning to give them my full attention. “That’s a very serious statement for so early in the morning.”

“I’m not going to tell you what do to with her, Rusalka.” They shake their head. “And I’m not going to lecture you on all the risks and rewards. We both know you’re already aware of them.”

Tension coils along my spine. “It sounds like the only talk we’re having is what you’re not going to say.”

“Don’t get pissy.” They prop their elbows on the railing. “What I am going to say is that you should examine the awful feeling of watching someone you care about hurt themself for the greater good. Really wrap your hands around it, you know?”

This is leading somewhere and I don’t like it. “Why?” I snap.

Inna turns and looks at me fully. “Because it’s what we’ve been feeling for years, watching you drive yourself into the ground to protect us. You kill yourself just to make life a tiny bit better, to improve things for our people even a sliver.” They hold up a hand before I can dredge up a response. “I’m not here to battle you about choices already made and actions already committed.”

Some of the fight goes out of me. This is a conversation we’ve revisited over the years, usually when one of my court is scraping me off the ground after I’ve collapsed in exhaustion, metaphorically or otherwise, though that’s only happened literally a few times. “Inna?.?.?.”

“I like her, Rusalka. I don’t want to see her hurt herself, even if it benefits us.” Inna holds my gaze. “Just?.?.?. think about the correlations, yeah?”

I swallow hard. “I will.”

They nod slowly. “The week you demanded she take is almost up. What will you do if she doesn’t change her mind?”

That question has kept me from sleep. Because Inna is right. How many times have I been faced with my decisions to help my people even at great personal cost to myself? How many times have I moved forward without care for the price? It’s hypocritical in the extreme to keep Belladonna from doing the same.

But, gods, she’s been through so much and has scars that go soul deep. “If I allow her to make this decision without any pushback, that will reinforce her belief that she’s only worth what she can provide.”

“Her belief that she’s only worth what she can provide,” Inna echoes slowly.

I take another sip of my coffee, a longer one this time. “I hear you, okay? I recognize the mirror being held up in front of me.” Now, at least. “But I don’t know what I’ll do, Inna. That’s the only answer I have.”

Inna doesn’t press further. I love them for that, even if I know it’s their preferred way to operate—to lay out the facts and let the other person come to their own conclusions.

All too soon, my mug is empty and my excuse for hiding up here on this balcony is gone. Since taking over the leadership role, I’ve never once avoided work that needed to be done until now. But Belladonna feels like a magnet, drawing me toward her despite myself. Not that I’m trying to avoid it all that much.

Even so, I can’t avoid my responsibilities any longer. I sigh. “Can you keep an eye on her? I don’t expect she’ll come to any harm in the gardens or the village, but?—”

“You worry.” Inna squeezes my shoulder. “I understand. It’s been a while since I’ve worked a shift in the gardens. Bogdan will be content enough with the extra set of hands.”

“Thank you.” Some of the tightness leaves my shoulders. “I appreciate it.”

“I like her.” Inna takes my mug and turns toward the door, a clear order to stop moping and get back to the many tasks that come with leadership. “We all do.”

Historically, I’ve found peace in the minutiae of paperwork. Peoples don’t sing ballads about the wars that are fought and won over contracts and trading agreements, but I’ve been bloodied in wars immortalized in songs and I’d rather the backache from hunching over my desk for hours on end. If I do my job right, no one has to die.

At my desk is where Belladonna finds me, hours and hours later, when the sun hangs low in the sky outside the large windows in my study. She slips through the door with her head bent low, as if she expects to be yelled at for intruding. I know it’s a learned behavior, so as much as it stings to see, I don’t mention it. Hopefully one day she’ll feel safe enough here that some of her tension eases, but that’s not something that can be rushed.

“Am I interrupting?”

I smile and stretch, several bones in my spine popping loudly. “Saving me, more like.” I survey her, taking in how her hair has gone frizzy with the humidity and her cheeks still have a deep glow from spending time outside. There’s a smudge of dirt on her brow and more marking her clothes. She looks?.?.?. happy. “The gardens are well?”

“Yes.” She smiles, and it’s the first sunrise after a vicious storm, filled with hope and the promise of more. “It’s so lovely. Bogdan has taught me so much, and I’m getting better at telling weeds from proper plants. Later this week, he’s going to show me the vegetables and fruits that need to be replanted each year and how he cycles through them to ensure the soil remains healthy.”

Her happiness buoys me out of my chair and guides me around the desk until I stand before her. “It sounds like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Yes.” It’s almost more sigh than word. She looks so damned kissable that I have to clench my fists to avoid reaching for her. Belladonna smiles sweetly. “Bogdan is gruff, but he’s not cruel. It’s comforting now that I’ve gotten used to him.”

Even as I tell myself not to move, to be patient, to let her come to me, my body isn’t listening. I find myself stroking my claws across her cheek. To my surprise, she leans into the touch and closes her eyes. “I’m glad you’ve found something you enjoy,” I say softly, not wanting to shatter the moment. “Spend as much time there as you want.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. Everyone chooses their role in this territory. There are jobs no one particularly wants that we require everyone to cycle through for a short time, but other than that, they follow their joy.” I twine a strand of her hair around my finger and slowly draw it out before letting it fall back to her shoulder.

Belladonna’s eyes shine in a worrisome way, but she’s smiling. “I know I’ve said I don’t believe in hell, which means I probably shouldn’t believe in heaven, but when I did believe, this is kind of what I always imagined heaven to be like.”

I shake my head. “This is real life, little one. There are occasionally challenges with doing things this way. They’re usually easily surmountable, but the fact remains that the challenges exist.”

I don’t know what I expect her to say in response to that, but she licks her lips. “I want to kiss you.”

The moment feels unreal. I haven’t been nervous about kissing someone since I was young, awkward, and filled with more need than I knew how to satisfy. That was years and years ago, and yet my hands shake as I slowly cup Belladonna’s hips. “I want you to kiss me.” I tug her closer. “Please.”

She slowly mirrors my position, taking my hips. It’s a little awkward but somehow sexier for it. Then she goes up onto her tiptoes and kisses me. It’s a light sensation, a faint brushing of her lips to mine, a sweet touch that seduces me right down to my soul.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. From the moment I agreed to Azazel’s deal, I intended to care for my chosen human, to ensure she was protected and her every need was seen to. But I didn’t expect to feel all these ways. Protective and needy and so fucking angry. I want to slice her family to pieces, to burn their damned church to the ground, maybe to burn every church to the ground to save the future Belladonnas of her realm. This fury is not me, but as she sighs into my mouth, I’m having a hard time remembering why I can’t do all that, beyond the logistics of not being able to travel to the human realm.

All the while, I hold her gently. I allow her to explore my lips, then finally part them and let her inside when it becomes clear she doesn’t know how to ask. Even then, I keep the majority of my desire chained and choked. The kiss grows, warm and slick and needy—and us. No magic paves the way to her submission.

She leans in, or maybe I tug her closer, and then she’s pressed to my body, her softness a temptation I want to explore with my tongue. I stumble back, taking her with me, to sit on the edge of the desk. I’m tall enough that she ends up straddling my thigh.

Belladonna gasps so sweetly at the contact to her pussy through her pants. That should be enough to shock me back to my senses, but the spell of desire is too strong. I slip my hand around to cup the base of her skull. Desire, we’ve had in abundance. This feels deeper, stronger. Need doesn’t begin to cover it.

She loops her arms around my neck and gives herself over to me completely. The trust nearly sends me to the floor. It chains me all the tighter. I am filled with as much conflict as Belladonna carries inside her daily.

Go gently.

The reminder is what I needed in order to snap me back into the moment, away from the fear of misstepping. I stroke my hands down her back to cup her hips. Her kiss goes frantic for the first time as I guide her to roll her hips and rub herself against my thigh. Desperate. Needy. Begging for more.

I have more to give.