Epilogue

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POLINA

I tap the floor nervously as the soft hum of music floats through the grand hall but I hardly notice it.

My heartbeat thrums in my chest, steady and sure, as I step into the aisle. At the far end, Rafail waits, his presence commanding, his dark suit fitting him perfectly, his expression calm yet unyielding. His eyes, though—those eyes—are fixed on me, holding a warmth that no one else sees.

He’s all I see for long moments. I’m not used to seeing him fidgeting or looking nervous.

Beside me, my brother Mikhail stands solid as ever, his arm linked with mine. His reassuring strength boosters me. “You’re ready, Polina?” he murmurs, his deep voice low.

I nod, my lips curving into a small smile. “I am.”

We step forward together. The hall quiets as every gaze turns to us, but I barely notice. My focus is on Rafail.

My husband.

It’s strange to think we’ll make it official now.

My fingers tighten slightly around the bouquet of flowers as I move closer, closer, until the world narrows to just him. Mikhail places my hand in Rafail’s with a sigh I’m not sure he means to release, and I feel the familiar steadiness of Rafail’s touch. His fingers close around mine, warm and sure.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low, meant only for me.

“And you look terrifying.” I wink, my smile soft.

His lips twitch, almost a smile, but the tenderness in his expression is enough to send my heart racing.

The priest seems to be talking quickly, as if he wants this signed, sealed, and delivered. I guess that makes all of us.

I love taking my vows to him. I love the feel of my hand in his sure one. I love the way he holds my gaze, the Russian words of promise and forever written like indelible ink on my heart.

The weight of the vows we exchange feels like an unbreakable thread weaving us together. When Rafail slides the ring onto my finger, his thumb lingers against my knuckle, a fleeting, intimate gesture that steadies me.

When it’s my turn, I take his hand, my fingers trembling slightly as I slide the band into place. “You’re mine now,” he whispers, his voice deep and possessive.

I look into his eyes and smile. “And you’re mine .”

Two can play at this game.

The kiss he pulls me into is far from ceremonial but intense, raw, and filled with promises only we understand.

The crowd cheers, but I hardly hear them. I’m dimly aware of tables filled with food and servers with bottles of champagne and vodka.

“Polina!” Zoya’s bright voice cuts through the crowd as she bounds toward me, nearly knocking over a server in her enthusiasm. She throws her arms around me, her petite frame vibrating with joy. “You look like a queen! The most beautiful bride ever!”

I laugh, hugging her back tightly. “And you’re my little star.” Pulling back, I mock scold her. “Did your brother give you permission to drink champagne?”

She puts a finger to her lips as Rodion appears beside her, his ever-present smirk firmly in place. He raises a glass. “We’re celebrating!”

I smile warmly at him as he leans in closer and kisses my cheek. “Congratulations, Polina. You’ve officially tamed the beast.”

I grimace. “For now. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I reply, glancing at Rafail across the room. He’s deep in conversation with Semyon and Matvei, his presence still magnetic even at a distance. “He might hear you.”

Rodion grins, tipping his glass toward me. “If anyone can keep him in line, it’s you.”

“I’ll do my best, but make no promises.” I really do mean it.

As the night deepens, the lights grow warmer, and the music shifts to something slower. I’m standing near the edge of the dance floor when Rafail finds me. He holds out a hand, his eyes fixed on mine.

“Dance with me.”

My brothers watch on the sidelines, vigilant but reserved. It warms my heart to see them here, to see them chatting peacefully with Rafail.

But then the crowd fades as we walk to the center of the room. I love the warm feel of his hand on my waist. We move together.

Thank god that stupid cast is gone. Still, I’m a bit wobbly on my feet, and it feels good to lean into him.

“You’re good at this,” I murmur, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

“I’ve had practice,” he replies, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

His hand tightens slightly on my waist, drawing me closer as we turn. “You’ve always been stubborn,” he says, his tone teasing.

“You’ve always been impossible,” I shoot back, a soft laugh escaping me.

“And yet, here we are.”

“Yes,” I whisper, my chest tightening with emotion. “Here we are.”

When the dance ends, he doesn’t release me. Instead, he pulls me even closer, his forehead pressed against mine. The crowd claps and cheers, but his next words are just for me.

“You’re my everything, Polina.”

My breath catches, and I press my hand to his chest, reassuring even myself with the steady beat of his heart.

“I love you, Rafail.”

And for the first time… I feel the certainty of forever.

“You know,” I say softly, my fingers entwined with his. I swallow hard, not sure exactly how to say what I need to tell him.

“What’s that?” His dark eyes bore into mine. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to his intensity.

“Maybe…nine months from now or so…” I let my voice trail off. I can’t really speak. I’m all choked up, unsure of how to continue.

“Nine months what, Polina?” His hands frame my face, his gaze glued on mine.

I don’t trust myself to speak above a whisper. “Maybe… we can well and truly marry the two families together by blood.”

“Do you mean…?”

I laugh, even through unshed tears, as I nod. He raises his glass as if to cheer, then lowers it and pulls me to his chest.

“It’s our little secret, for now. Let’s keep something that’s just ours, for this little while.”

My heart swells. “I love that. Yes, please.”

He kisses my cheek. “ Za novyye nachinaniya i schastlivyye kontsy,” he whispers.

I kiss him back and smile. “To new beginnings and happy endings.”

THE END