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ANTON
Anton could not believe it. No, he could believe it. The girl—Nahli—with the black braid and dimples from the market had stolen his clothing. He wasn’t surprised she’d taken his clothes, but more so at the fact he’d seen her twice in the same day.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to catch up to her to swipe his things back. By the time he swam long strokes to reach the edge of the lake, she would already be long gone. Instead, he decided to finish bathing, then think about what had occurred with Nahli. He’d come to escape for a little while, to not think about Maryska, to not think about his family.
Leaning back, Anton dipped his hair into the lake and let his mind clear. With his eyes tightly shut, he floated down into the lukewarm water, as far as his body would go.
When he spread his arms and let himself resurface from under the blue liquid, a blast of cool wind struck his face. Just as it had earlier. But when he stood to look around, he was met with only the sun’s warmth and the sight of his lonely boots. He groaned with irritation at what he would have to do.
Before Anton had come to cleanse himself, he’d dropped off the things he’d purchased from the market, along with the satchel that would be a gift for someone. He’d given the remainder of his coin to Pav before trailing his way to the lake. If the thief from the market had stolen those things, he would have most certainly tried to track her down.
Squeezing out his wet hair, he lifted himself from the shifting water to go to what Nahli had left him. His boots. “Well, there’s that,” he said aloud to himself as beads of water slid down his shoulders and chest.
If he had to trudge home like a newborn babe, then so be it. It couldn’t be worse than having to see Maryska that night. Anton lifted the worn boots, holding one in front of himself and the other over his buttocks, before he started to shuffle his way home.
He found himself partially smiling and half frowning at the ridiculousness of it. Nahli had been running off with a chicken of all things. Then the smile vanished when he was unable to control his thoughts from taking a darker turn. Only one more day of this life, of doing what he loathed. As vile as tumbling with strangers made him feel, it had helped his family survive before Yeva had started selling herbs and reading fortunes at the market.
Dirt stuck to his bare feet, smaller bits gathering in between his toes. Perhaps he should just put the boots on, but he didn’t feel like exposing himself to the whole village.
Once he broke out from the forest, Anton scurried as quickly as humanly possible toward his home. Luck was on his side this time since no one was out. His family’s older cottage shifted into view. The charcoal thatch roof needed to be repaired, but the windows were spotless from Pav keeping them clean.
As he edged closer, Mrs. Evanko was out in her garden next door, her fiery-red braid brushing her waist. He tiptoed as silently as he could, just as he used to when he was younger after sneaking about and doing things he shouldn’t have been doing. But nothing ever slipped past Mrs. Evanko.
He saw it coming as she slowly glanced over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing immediately. Anton froze in his indecision on whether he should run inside or have a nonchalant chat.
The chat it is. “Good morning, Mrs. Evanko. Tasha already seems to be getting better.” When he’d dropped off the items earlier, Tasha had appeared well as she slept. However, he could still smell the lingering stench from the empty bucket sitting beside her bed in case she grew nauseated again. “We’ll let you know tomorrow morning if you’re able to watch her, or if she’ll need to stay home again.” He spoke with ease, as if she wouldn’t notice that he was indeed almost as naked as the day he’d been born, despite the boots.
She glanced at his home, then back at him with a chastising look, tapping a finger against her chin. “Hmm.”
“It isn’t what you think.”
She most likely thought he was coming back from making coin. More than once, her disapproval had echoed his own regarding his nightly activities.
“So, you aren’t gallivanting in the village and picking up customers?”
He wanted to scratch his face in nervousness, but instead shifted his boot in front of him to make sure he was completely covered. “Not at the moment, no.”
“Anton, you’re like a son to me, and you need to stop this nonsense.” Small creases appeared at the edges of her eyes, and exhaustion rolled off her as she let out an exasperated huff of air. “Your mother and father would be so disappointed in you if they were still here.”
He wanted to tell her that he was disappointed in his mother for leaving them when she could have tried harder to stay, and at his father for not being more careful. But out of respect for her, he remained silent on the matter. Mrs. Evanko had treated them well over the years, even if she needed to mind her own damn business most of the time.
Before he gave her a response, she shook a pile of weeds in her fist in the direction of her home. “And do go and put some clothes on before Polina and the smaller ones see you.”
Polina was her eldest daughter who had just turned fifteen. She used to follow him around with a childhood infatuation, until not that long ago when she’d finally noticed Pav. His brother had been practicing with the sword, more so lately, gaining strength and hoping to become a soldier one day.
With a final nod at Mrs. Evanko, Anton hurried to the front of his cottage. When he reached the offset door that needed adjusting, he kicked it softly several times with the heel of his foot.
The bolt unlatched with a hard click and Pav opened the door. A brow arched, and his lips twisted to the side as his green eyes quickly skimmed over Anton. “Where in all of Kedaf are your clothes?” He chuckled.
Anton strode past his brother. “Taken by a thief.”
“While you were wearing them?” Pav shook his head and closed the door.
“That’s exactly how it happened, Pavla,” Anton said with sarcasm. “A thief held me at knifepoint and stripped me bare, only to leave me with my boots to cover myself and come home safely to tell you this most magnanimous story.”
Pav’s eyes widened, his freckled cheeks drawing upward. “That is quite a story. How did you manage to barter to keep the boots?”
Anton released a huff of air, his gaze drifting to the roof of the sitting room. “You know that isn’t what really happened.”
“It did sound like quite a tale, but you never know with thieves. One did threaten to cut my hair at ax-point once.” He shrugged with a smirk.
“Pav, stop being ridiculous. We both know that never happened. Also, it wasn’t a he, it was a she, and a very small she at that.”
Pav gently patted Anton on the back. “Poor Anton, growing weaker and weaker by the day.”
“I was in the lake, and she wasn’t. I’m not a fish who can glide through water.”
“Should have grown wings and flown like a bird.”
“What?” Anton shook his head. “I’m done with this conversation, and I’m going to find something to wear.” He inspected the tiny sitting room and the two empty chairs. “How’s Tasha?”
“Still in bed asleep. There hasn’t been any more retching.”
Pav looked like he wanted a pat on the back, but Anton was still holding his boots. So he headed to his bedroom while his brother continued to prattle away about nothing. When he closed the door behind him, Pav was still talking to air.
At the market when his brother worked with Yeva, Pav did more talking than trying to sell anything. But for some reason, people were charmed by him and would continue to come back and chat with him while buying herbs. There were several customers who had asked to get their fortunes told by Pav, and it ended up being absurd, yet the people loved it. His brother was going to be a handful for the women when he was older—Anton was sure of it. That last thought brought another unwelcome one on its heels. Pav wasn’t a child anymore—he would be sixteen in a few days.
Anton set the boots on the floor and drew open a dresser drawer, pulling out a pair of trousers and a tunic. He threw them on and took a seat on the edge of the bed he shared with Pav.
He rested on the flattened pillow, his partially damp hair touching his cheek as he closed his eyes for a little while.
A knock at the door stirred him out of his slumber.
“Yes?” His voice came out groggy as he sat up, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eye.
The door swung open with a soft couple of squeaks. Yeva stood in the doorway, her hair at her forehead soaked with sweat. “Did you decide to stay for dinner?”
Anton’s shoulders stiffened. “I already told you I can’t, Yeva.”
“You can.” Her lips pursed together in agitation.
“All right, I can.” He let his shoulders relax.
She leapt on the bed and wrapped her sweaty arm around his shoulders, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Ionna will be thrilled. She should be here soon.” A broad smile crossed her face, showing the two slightly-crooked teeth that he used to tease her about when he was smaller. He used to tell her it made her look as though she was part wolf. Though her personality was never fierce, she was more like a gentle deer.
His thoughts turned to Maryska. “I won’t be able to stay the entire dinner.”
“I will take whatever you’re willing to give us. A little time is better than no time.”
“Ton-Ton?” A soft voice entered the room.
“Tasha, did you grow already?” he asked his younger sister as she tiptoed into his area. Her complexion was no longer pale but a healthy hue. “You look taller than yesterday.”
Tasha’s spine straightened as if she were trying to make herself appear even taller. She was still small for her age, and she was the only one out of the four of them who looked exactly like their father. Tan skin, black hair, and bright green eyes, but the wild curls in her hair were from their mother.
“My feet do seem bigger today.” Tasha padded toward the bed and took a seat on the other side of him, then placed her foot in his face.
Yeva giggled, and Anton wrinkled his nose, pretending to appear disgusted while shoving Tasha’s foot back down. “It smells like goat,” he said.
Tasha lifted her foot to her face and took a long sniff. “It does not!”
“While you two are talking about feet, I’m going to go and finish up dinner,” Yeva said before giving Tasha a hasty tickle to the ribs.
Anton turned to Tasha. “Are you feeling better? You don’t appear sick anymore.”
“Yes, but oh how it was wretched, and I kept feeling nauseous.”
He remembered the smell from earlier. “Such big words. You seem to have a larger vocabulary than I do.” Anton smiled and shook her foot.
“That’s because you need to read more.” She tapped at the book in her hand that he was only now seeing.
“Pav doesn’t read often, either.”
“Pav could do with expanding his vocabulary.”
A roar of laughter escaped Anton, and he glanced up to see Pav standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
“Are you two talking about me?” Pav asked, cocking his head. “I know everyone here can’t help but enjoy my presence.”
Anton nudged his younger sister. “Tasha here said you needed to expand your vocabulary.”
“My dear lady, what an atrocious discussion to be allowed.” Pav squinted his green eyes at Tasha. “There. Is that better?”
She held up her hand, sliding her index finger and thumb close together. “A little.”
Pav rushed to the bed and rustled Tasha’s curls, making them even wilder. She patted his hands away while giggling.
Anton stood from the bed. “I’m going to see if Yeva needs help with anything in the kitchen.” He inhaled the scent of the herbs, spices, and meat brewing from inside the other room. His stomach ached with hunger for just one single taste.
“Where did you get the meat?” he asked Yeva when he strode up beside her.
“I made a good amount of coin at the booth. People like to tip extra after having their palms read, and there were more customers than usual today.” She shrugged and stirred the liquid in the large pot on the stove, tapping the wooden spoon on the edge before setting it down.
The meat didn’t smell like the scraps they generally had or the tough jerky that was always too hard to chew.
A sense of pride washed over Anton for his sister. She had done this mostly on her own, besides using herbs from Ionna’s farm. But she’d made sure to pay Ionna back each time she took them to sell at the market.
Yeva nodded in the direction of the vegetables sprawled across the table. “If you want to help and slice up those, you can work on that.”
Anton grabbed a knife and a carrot from the table.
She looked at him and smiled warmly. “Thank you for the vegetables and bread, by the way. The meal wouldn’t be the same if you hadn’t gotten those today.”
Nodding while holding his emotions back, he chopped into a carrot. Unlike Yeva being content with how she’d bought the meat, there was nothing pleasing about the way he’d paid for the other things. But he was satisfied nonetheless that his family would be able to have a proper dinner. That was good enough for tonight.
A heavy knock at the door arrived right as Yeva was pouring the meal into ceramic bowls. “Can you answer that?” she asked Anton.
Pav had gone next door to borrow something, but he had really gone to most likely flirt with Polina before dinner. Tasha had returned to her room to rest and read, to make sure her condition kept improving.
“Sure.” Anton walked across the wooden floor and pulled open the door to Ionna’s beaming face.
The yellow tunic she wore complimented her dark skin. Her tight black curls seemed to bounce, and her wide brown eyes automatically flicked over his shoulder toward Yeva, before falling back to him. Anton could understand why Yeva had fallen in love with her, especially when she gave him a genuine smile that highlighted her cheekbones. He hoped that love would always be enough.
“It’s nice to see you, Anton.”
He opened the door the remainder of the way and motioned her inside. “Likewise.”
“I’m coming!” Pav’s loud voice shouted from the direction of Mrs. Evanko’s cottage.
Ionna stopped and turned around to wait beside Anton.
“Sorry, it took longer than expected.” Pav’s breaths came out heavy from his sprint, and his cheeks were reddened. Oddly, so were his lips.
“So, what did you have to go and borrow exactly?” Anton asked, the side of his mouth quirking up.
Pav chewed on the edge of his lip. “I got distracted and forgot to ask.”
“Sure, you did, Pav.”
Ignoring Anton’s comment, Pav ran a hand through his curly hair. “Lovely to see you again, Ionna.” Grasping her delicate hand, Pav lifted it to his mouth and brushed a soft kiss against her skin. Anton had to stop from rolling his eyes.
“You are so sweet.” Ionna patted Pav’s head even though she was a bit shorter than him. Pav had grown over the winter months, and his shoulders had broadened. He was now more muscular than Anton but not quite as tall.
Ionna drew her hand back and smiled, before turning and heading toward Yeva. His sister wrapped her arms around her fiancée and kissed her.
Pav attempted to shuffle past Anton, but he tugged his younger brother back by the tunic. “You better not be doing more than kissing, Pavla,” he whispered close to his ear.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Pav smirked, flicking Anton’s hand from his shirt.
“I’m serious,” Anton said through gritted teeth. Pav was too young to have a child of his own running around. He already took care of Tasha a lot of the time.
“So am I.” His brother plucked a piece of string from his tunic and avoided eye contact.
“Pav?” Anton asked in a serious tone.
“It’s only kissing, I swear.”
A huge weight lifted off Anton’s shoulders. “All right. Keep it that way as long as you can.”
Pav pursed his lips and nodded, then went inside to sit next to Tasha on one of the wide chairs. She had quietly made her way into the sitting room, toting a book which had been read so many times that sheets of paper were practically falling out.
Closing the door, Anton approached Ionna, who was already seated at the cramped dining table. His father had crafted it himself, and he’d made almost everything inside of their house. Dabbling in woodwork was no easy task for Anton, though. When he’d tried, the outcome was always off. He was better at carving and sculpting areas than aligning to make sure parts were sturdy and even. His focus and detail were more suited for smaller objects, and he didn’t understand why he couldn’t do the same with larger furniture.
Anton turned to Ionna. “So, I hear you’re going to help take care of my sister.”
“She can handle herself.” Her eyes brightened when she glanced at Yeva, who was putting the last of the meal together. “But we’ll watch over each other.”
Perhaps his sister wasn’t too young to get married, as he’d previously thought. After all he and his family had been through, Yeva already took care of everything well enough. Besides, he did like Ionna.
Yeva was near, but he could tell she wasn’t even listening, too consumed with pouring hot tea into petite cups.
“I hear you decided to help gather herbs. After our gardener passed away, I’ve been needing someone.” Ionna smiled. “Yeva just knew you would be thrilled about the work.”
He wouldn’t have used the word thrilled, but it would do well enough. “Thank you so much for the opportunity.”
“Anton made you a gift in thanks,” Pav said as he reached for something in his pocket.
What is he doing now? Anton furrowed his brow in confusion, knowing he hadn’t made anything for Ionna.
Pav took out a tiny barn owl and displayed it in his palm. Anton’s cheeks heated with embarrassment. His brother had swiped the owl from their shared room. It made a soft clack as he pressed it to the table in front of Ionna.
“You made this?” Ionna’s lips parted as her fingertips roamed over the feathered wings, tracing each delicate curve.
“It’s nothing,” Anton rushed the words out. “I only do it to try and improve my woodwork.” It wasn’t really nothing, but he didn’t want to say how much it relaxed him and made him feel like he was doing something worthy. Even if it only pleased himself.
“It’s beautiful,” Ionna gasped. “Have you thought about selling these at the market? You could even add paints to bring out the texture.”
Yeva seemed to be listening now as she plopped down beside Ionna. “I’ve told him he should, but he insisted on doing other things for money.”
Ionna set the owl on the table, keeping one hand folded around the carving. “But you could make more money with these.”
“You think so?”
Anton hadn’t put much thought into trying to sell the small figures. He had mainly used them for practice to perfect his skill on larger furniture. Now, something blossomed in his chest, akin to hope and possibilities. Those emotions were hard for him to let take shape because they were easy to split and break apart.
“I do. You could still start by collecting herbs while selling these at the market and see what happens.” Ionna grinned wider, straightening in her seat.
It was an idea. An idea that was starting to make him feel like maybe he could become something, better than who he was. Not for himself, but for his family.
While they ate dinner, Ionna, Yeva, and Pav did almost all of the talking. But mostly it was Pav asking about Ionna’s farm.
Apparently Yeva and Ionna had run into each other at the market one autumn afternoon, and connected on the subject of herbs, quickly agreeing to a partnership. Something bloomed after that, and every day Yeva had come home, Anton would notice her smile growing brighter and brighter from each interaction with Ionna.
Anton watched out the window as the day darkened to night, and he knew he didn’t have to go and visit Maryska. Yet he was still frustrated and too proud about not getting his full payment from her earlier, and needed to finish what he’d started.
“I’m sorry to leave like this, but I have to go to work,” Anton said, not looking directly at his sister or Ionna.
Yeva closed her eyes and sighed. “You really don’t have to go, Anton.”
He stood from the table and brushed a kiss against her soft cheek. “Last night. I promise.”
“I know it’s none of my business”—Ionna rubbed a finger against her lower lip—“but I can give you whatever payment you would have received tonight.”
His chest swelled at the possibility of taking her money, then deflated knowing the shame that would follow if he actually carried through with it. “I’m as stubborn as my sister about things like that, but thank you.”
Tasha had gone back in the sitting room, eyes closed with a book in her left hand. Anton gave her a kiss goodbye on her plump, delicate cheek. Her lids fluttered open for a brief moment. “Bye, Ton-Ton.”
“Goodnight, baby bean.”
She half-smiled and drifted back to sleep.
“Where’s my kiss and nickname?” Pav asked from the floor, where he was playing a game with a deck of cards.
Anton leaned down and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, my darling.”
Pav grimaced and wiped his cheek. “It was only a joke, Anton.”
“I forgot you already had your share of kisses today.”
“That, I did.” Pav smirked.
Chuckling, Anton headed out of the house. His laughter subsided and his chest clenched as he walked in the direction of Maryska’s cottage.
When he stood in front of her home, a blast of cool air struck him, making him shiver. A wind chime clacked above him. He looked up at the new object, and it appeared as if it were made from bones. Holding his breath, he touched the shell of what had to be some sort of animal piece. A warmth from the wind chime seemed to caress his fingers, and he dropped his hand.
The night felt off as he studied several candles burning through the window, thoughts swirling in his head about how Maryska had cheated him. One more night. Only one to touch her, to taste her, to be inside her. Only one.
Raising his clenched fist to the door, he knocked rapidly, harder than he should have. Maryska took her sweet time answering, and he knew she would be furious he hadn’t arrived on time.
“You’re late.” She sneered as she yanked open the door. A sheer nightgown clung to her body, showing every inch of Maryska’s skin—her rosy pink nipples, the dark curls between her thighs.
He had to be polite for now. “I know, I’m sorry. My sister made dinner and wanted to have a family meal tonight since her fiancée was coming over.”
“Yeva, Yeva, Yeva. It’s always about your sister. Are you sure you’re not in love with her, Anton?” she spat.
The fact that Maryska’s thoughts were that deranged disturbed him, but he said nothing. After tonight, he would never have to see or speak to her again, or worry about the rumors she would spread.
Anton steeled himself for what the night would bring, avoiding her gaze and keeping his on one of the chairs. A wave of something hit his senses, and he inhaled deeply. It wasn’t just the usual scent of oranges but something else, something heavier, something he’d never quite breathed in before. “Do you smell that?”
Maryska didn’t respond to what he’d asked as she slipped the gown from her body, only reached between his legs, cupping his manhood. “Now strip,” she demanded like he was her personal slave.
And for the night, he supposed he was.
