***
As head of the kitchens, Natalya could not take the afternoon off to sit and gossip with Inga. Inga stowed her things in the tiny cottage where Natalya and Alexander lived, and then went to the kitchens to help. As long as she was here, she might as well lend a hand.
They worked all evening on dinner for the household and then cleanup. It was nearly midnight before the two women retired to Natalya’s cottage, clad in nightdresses and sipping tea quietly by the fire. The soft sound of Alexander’s snoring came from the other room.
“Poor, Alexei,” Natalya laughed softly, “he works so hard.”
“He lets you call him Alexei?”
“Not in public. When others are around, he’s Alexander. His closest friends and family use the nickname.”
“When will your baby come?”
“In another two months.”
“Then I’ll have to come see you again when I return from war.”
Natalya choked on her tea, spitting some of it back into the cup. Inga laughed aloud, then clapped her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t wake Alexander.
“What?”
“I’m not going to fight the war. I’m going along to cook for the army.”
“Oh.” Natalya swallowed. “Well, that’s frightening enough, isn’t it?”
Inga shrugged. “Yehvah is going. Most of the servants are. It’s going to be a massive undertaking. We all have to help.”
Natalya seemed mollified. “Sounds like a lot of work.”
“And since when am I a stranger to that? Or you, for that matter.”
Natalya nodded. “You have no idea. This estate is—obviously—smaller than the palace, so I didn’t think there would be as much work. Truly, there’s not. But my job is akin to Yehvah’s, so my workload is actually more. I don’t know how Yehvah does all this for a place as big as the imperial palace. I certainly couldn’t.”
“I think it’s sheer stubbornness.”
Natalya chuckled. “How is Yehvah? How is everyone?”
“They’ve all sent you gifts and messages. It’s all over there with my things. Perhaps tomorrow we can open them.”
“Oh, yes, let’s!”
Inga smiled down into her tea.
“And you, Inga? How are you?”
Inga shrugged. “I'm well.” It felt untrue, though she wasn’t sure why.
“Truly?”
“I’m not unwell.”
“Does it have something to do with that soldier? Taras, right? Is there something between you two?”
Inga raised an eyebrow. Taras hadn’t so much as touched her when they’d parted.
“How did you figure that out?”
Natalya laughed her delicate laugh again. “I notice it often, now. I think once you’ve experienced love, you see signs of it in others. So tell me about him.”
Inga barked a laugh. “It’s a long and rather humiliating story.”
“In that case,” Natalya scooted up close so she and Inga sat knee-to-knee, “don’t spare any details.”
Inga laughed again. “Oh Natalya, I’ve missed you.”
She told the entire story in one long, almost emotionless stream of words. Natalya listened with rapt attention, one hand absently rubbing her swollen belly. Her only responses were the movement of her eyebrows and the widening or narrowing of her eyes.
“So,” Natalya said when she'd finished, “you are sleeping in his bed, but not bedding him. He kisses you often, but nothing else?”
Inga nodded.
“I’m confused. Does he not want to take it any further? If he’s one of those men who likes other men or boys, why does he kiss you?”
“No, no, no,” Inga waved her hands for Natalya to stop. “It’s not like that. He does prefer women. It’s me who doesn’t want to take it further.”
“And he’s all right with that? He doesn’t try to force you, or coax you?”
“Force me, no. Coax me . . .” Inga shrugged uncomfortably. “When he kisses me, he often tries to do more, but I pull away. When I do, he stops. If he didn’t want more, he wouldn’t do that to begin with. Right?”
Natalya’s eyebrows went up. “Inga, that’s a rare man you have. Most men would take advantage.”
“I know,” Inga put a hand to her forehead, “And I know I’m being unfair to him.”
“Then why . . .”
“Because I’m afraid to take it any further.”
“What are you afraid of, exactly? That he would hurt you, like Sergei? Or has something happened that’s made you afraid of the physical act in general?”
“No. It’s nothing like that.”
“Then what?”
“I like him.”
Natalya’s eyes moved briefly from side to side. “I don’t see a problem, Inga.”
Inga sighed, trying to put her feelings into words. “I’ve never felt safer or warmer than when I’m with Taras. It’s not that I don’t want to be with him. I do, but that’s what scares me. I’m afraid of wanting it so much.”
“You mean you’re afraid to feel so much for him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s fleeting. It will come and go.”
“Do you mean for you?”
“No, for him. Natalya, Alexander married you. Taras is a boyar. He can’t marry a serving maid.”
“He’s a boyar?”
Inga pressed her lips together, and her eyes went to the ceiling. “Did I forget to mention that?”
“Inga, that’s a whole different battlefield. This could be dangerous for you.”
“I know. That’s why I’ve held back; it’s why this has been so hard.”
“What does Yehvah say? Surely she doesn’t approve.”
Inga sighed, feeling drained. “Yehvah told me about how she once fell in love with a boyar and became his mistress. Then he had to marry a boyar’s daughter and sent Yehvah away. She wants to save me from such heartache.”
Natalya looked like she might explode if Inga gave her one more piece of shocking news. Her mouth worked soundlessly, and she waved her hands around in front of her.
“What?”
“Yehvah doesn’t approve and for her own reasons. Because of Sergei, I must sleep in Taras’s rooms anyway. As long as I’m there . . . I don’t know what to do.”
Natalya’s eyes grew as wide as they could go. “I don’t know either, Inga. I couldn’t begin to advise you on this.”
“No, no, you have to tell me what to do. You’re my friend and I need your advice.”
“Inga,” Natalya chided softly, “you know this is not a decision I can make for you. Besides, you were always more of a leader than I.”
Inga let her head fall back, knowing Natalya was right—about making her own decision, anyway—but feeling frustrated all the same.
“You don’t want to be with him because you are afraid he’ll hurt you some day?”
“Yes.” Inga looked at Natalya. “Life is so hard as it is. I don’t know if I can take more heartache.”
“What if you don’t let your heart ache?”
“What do you mean?”
“Go into it with your eyes open, knowing how it might—and probably will—end. Know that you have him now, and enjoy the time you have together. Don’t keep up any expectations, and then you won’t be disappointed.”
“I don’t think it works that way, Natalya. Apply it to you and Alexander. Even if you knew you might not be with him forever, that he might leave you some day, no matter how hard you tried not to care, it would still hurt when he left.”
Natalya considered, then nodded. “You’re right. I’m certain you are. Only you can decide what to do. I understand your hesitance. I truly do. If you decide not to be with him, I wouldn’t judge you.”
“What would you do?”
“I’m married, Inga. My situation is nothing like yours.”
“What if it were?” Inga insisted. “I want your opinion, Natalya. It matters to me.”
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Natalya thought for a moment.
“When Sergei forced himself on me, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to be with anyone. Not because no one would want me—although the thought did cross my mind—but because I put up walls around myself, like a self-imposed exile from life and emotion. I thought if I tried to be with a man, it would be horrible and scary, and the bad memories would take over. Then I met Alexei. He tore down my walls, not with force but with his love and gentleness. He healed me, in every way. And now,” she put a hand on her stomach, “I’m so happy, Inga.
“Being with someone is unlike anything else you’ll ever do. It’s wonderful. I think you ought to let yourself experience it. Maybe the nights are cold now, and maybe they’ll be colder still if he leaves you one day, but why not take advantage of the warmth while you can? Life is hard, so why not find a little contentment, perhaps even joy, in a good man who truly loves you? If you truly care for him, I think you ought to be with him. I think you’ll be happier than you ever thought you could be. This is a decision only you can make. Be careful you don’t give in to fear too quickly. Life is too short to not be lived.”
Inga wiped a tear from her cheek, but nodded and smiled at Natalya. She wasn’t sure she agreed with Natalya, but it gave her something to think about. Natalya was happily married—something Inga could never have with Taras.
“Now,” Natalya perked up, “give me a list of the men you think could possibly be the one Yehvah loved.”
Inga laughed, perhaps harder than was appropriate, and it felt good.