A Bedtime Story (20 page)

L
aura was in the solarium looking out the
glass wall, lost in her thoughts. Kayne stood in the entrance, watching her,
watching her bandaged arm rest lifelessly in her lap. She turned her head tiredly to
the sounds of his footsteps. He took the seat Olga usually sat in, when she used to
bring her every day. Laura realized just how much she missed it.

“What do you want?”

Her voice did not carry the bitterness he expected. It was the
voice of the condemned to his executioner, accepting of his plight. He eyed her
wearily, pulled out a small jewelry box, and placed it on the table next to her.

“What is this?”

“The best I can offer you,” he answered, his tone flat. “I’ll see
you at supper.”

With no other words, he exited the room. Laura eyed the box for a
long time before her fingers finally reached for it. It held the most beautiful
engagement ring she had ever laid eyes on. A round sapphire stood on a platinum
band, surrounded with a thin layer of diamonds. It wasn’t the flashiest; it was just
the perfect one, for her.

She remembered the modest pear-shaped diamond gold band Eric had
offered her. How different the two rings were. How different the men. Eric who
wanted to offer her everything, even what he couldn’t afford to, had never really
known her. It showed in the pear-shaped diamond he chose, the gold band he opted
for, oblivious to her modest and yet exclusively white gold jewelry collection.
Mostly, it became palpable when describing his love, bestowing on her flattering
traits she did not possess. Not once had she corrected him. She liked the Laura he
saw and worked
tirelessly to maintain the illusion. She had liked
the pear-shaped diamond, just because he picked it, thinking she would.

Then her eyes reverted to Kayne’s ring. It was unfair to even
compare the two. His ring was beautiful, simple, and chic. Yet it was off-puttingly
cold, its design too perfect to be lovable. It was chosen by a man who clearly knew
her taste, who knew her inside out, wanting to please for failure to love.

She closed her eyes, feeling tears already glistening. How could a
proposal from the man who meant everything to her be so heartbreaking? She had
never, even in her wildest fantasies, thought he would propose. Let alone get down
on one knee, his eyes full of hope as had been Eric’s. Kayne’s ring didn’t come with
promises of love and hopes for a family. His was a cold and calculated decision,
from the man who couldn’t love, to the woman who’d never bear him children. It was a
trade-off.
The best he could offer her
. To her, it was everything. She spent
the afternoon staring down the blue velvet box.

The little box carrying her deepest desires and repressed hopes,
from the man who was responsible for her brother’s death. The man she still wished
would get down on one knee to propose.

***

She met him for supper in drab attire, wearing no makeup to conceal
the dark circles under her eyes, and no ring on her finger. His eyes set on her, but
he didn’t say a word. She took the seat facing him, served herself, and held his
silence.

“Where’s your ring?” he finally inquired, anger creeping into his
tone.

She met his gaze. “Didn’t match my outfit.” She gave him a
thinlipped smile.

Kayne returned her smile, his full of threat. “Go get it.”

“No.”

He snapped up and was at her side in a second, pulling her out of
her chair.

“Did you somehow think you had a say in this? That
it was a request?… A
proposal
?” he asked in a low growl, their faces inches
apart.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just kill me?” She met his stare, her
voice cool.

He snorted sardonically, then brushed his thumb against her cheek.
“It would…”

She closed her eyes, unconsciously leaning into his hand.

He exhaled slowly, feeling his anger dissipate despite himself.
“You will wear the ring. Tomorrow you will meet with Natasha. She will help with the
preparations. In three weeks, we will be married.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice soft. She could feel
his body heat against her, dreamed of a different conversation in her head.

“And here I was thinking you’d be jumping for joy,” he answered
with bitter sarcasm.

“I can’t… give you children…” Her voice finally cracked.

His eyes softened as he let go of his hold, taking a step back.
“Make sure Natasha never finds out.”

It would be the only answer she would get. She watched him leave,
retreating to the upper level of the house. Did he not want children? That was a
mild relief, but why was he marrying her?
So you may live
, answered a voice
within. Which was why Natasha should never find out, to ensure Dimitri wouldn’t. He
had no choice; he only did what was necessary to protect her from Dimitri. Unlike
her, she thought with a twist in the heart, he didn’t have visions of a little boy.
A young and beautiful boy, with her eyes and his smile, running around the house,
filling its halls with laughter.

***

Kayne lay awake in bed. In three weeks, he would marry Laura
Spencer. He would ensure her safety with that alone. Dimitri was
not
happy at all when he told him, questioning him relentlessly. He had no answer for
him. What could he have said? How to explain what he felt? He could never let her
go, even if he wanted to. Even if he trusted she would never go to the police, and
he didn’t, Dimitri wouldn’t stand for it. The cops would pursue her relentlessly,
could force her to testify, even against her will, unless she was his wife. Dimitri
would have her taken out the moment she stepped off Kayne’s residence, and
protection. Laura Spencer was a liability. Mrs. Laura Malkin, however, would be out
of reach, to everyone. He’d thought it through. Marriage was the only freedom he
could ever offer her. He’d even asked Dimitri to walk her down the aisle, ensuring
his public display of support, which he would be forced to uphold. He’d spoken to
Natasha too, knowing her fondness for the girl, and she had delivered.

It wouldn’t change anything, he told himself. It wouldn’t be a real
marriage, just a cover, a means to an end. Yet he fumed at her reaction, at her
refusal to wear the ring he had carefully selected for her. The ring he pictured on
her delicate finger, smiling inwardly at the thought.

L
aura looked in the mirror. She couldn’t
find herself in the reflection of this mysterious bride. Her hair had grown and was
curled for the occasion, flowing loosely down her back. Her bangs now reached her
chin, her face had slimmed, making her cheekbones more defined. Her makeup was
dramatic, with smoky eye shadow enhancing her clear grey eyes. Though it wasn’t
gaudy, her dress was worthy of Cinderella’s ball gown. In the true princess fashion,
it had a sweetheart neckline, straps that went round the top of her arms, and
crystal embellishments embroidered in the chiffon skirt. She kept staring at
herself. She wanted to reach out beyond the mirror and embrace this melancholic
princess, comfort her, tell her she was not alone, that she understood.

Laura had been threatened by the makeup artist not to cry. She
hadn’t. She stood alone and thought back to everything that happened leading her to
this day. It was still early in the morning. Natasha had explained to her that the
wedding ceremony would be held according to their tradition. Kayne and Laura would
be betrothed in the morning at the Orthodox Church; the rings would be exchanged
then. A crowning ceremony would follow, though no vows would be exchanged. It wasn’t
a contract to be upheld until death released you of your promise. It was a solemn
commitment, made in front of God, a union even death was powerless to break. The
reception would be held at the Drugov residence, and the decorators had arranged the
gardens for the occasion. White lanterns and veils were hung up on trees, white
lights installed in the fountain and the surrounding water. Laura felt she had
walked into a hazy fantasy, where only she was aware of the illusion. Everyone else
just wanted to play along.

Natasha had fussed over her. Olga even shed a few tears when she
had finally stepped out in her gown. Only she would not get
caught
in the spell. She had barely seen Kayne in the past three weeks. Lucas drove her to
meet with Natasha every day. Natasha planned, barely looking her way for an opinion.
Laura understood that Natasha lived this event as the wedding she would never plan
for the daughter she never had. Catching a glimpse of her maternal instinct, Laura
wondered about the causes behind it, could almost picture herself standing in
Natasha’s shoes one day. Laura was glad for Natasha. She doubted she would have
survived the whole ordeal without her taking charge, with an iron fist, always, in a
velvet glove. For the past three weeks, Laura would come home late at night,
exhausted and past supper time. Olga would wait for her, then they’d sit outside
together. Laura would smoke a cigarette, as Olga sipped her tea and made her recount
all the detailed planning of the day. She would be too tired to speak and only
dreamed of her bed but didn’t have it in her heart to disappoint Olga’s excited
face. So she would tell her everything, staying up past her bedtime, only to wake
the next day even more exhausted and go through it all once again.

She had started wearing the ring the day after her last supper with
Kayne, had spent countless moments staring at it, admiring its simple and elegant
beauty, trying to unlock its mystery. She had somehow convinced herself this one
piece of jewelry held all the secrets to Kayne Malkin’s heart. But the ring remained
silent, loyal to her one true master.

The one encounter she had with Kayne leading up to the big day had
been tense. She was wearing the ring. He smiled when he noticed, but things quickly
dissolved as he announced that Dimitri would be walking her down the aisle. She pled
with him, begged him even, for one request, only one, for it not to be him, the man
who wanted her dead. Even that simple request was sharply rejected in a tone that
left no room for negotiation, nor the slightest compassion.

Dimitri walked into the room, carefully closing the door behind
him, and opened his arms, pulling a reluctant Laura into a warm embrace.

“Laura, you look stunning! Never has a bride looked
so beautiful. Now don’t go telling Natasha I said that.” He winked at her
playfully.

Laura remained guarded, smiling weakly.

“What’s wrong? You should be happy! Has anyone troubled you?” he
asked with concern.

She couldn’t understand the man. He seemed genuine in this moment,
an involved father figure. Three weeks ago, he wanted her dead.

“I’m fine. Thank you, Mr. Drugov,” she answered, her voice subdued,
her weary eyes looking down.

“Dimitri. We’ve gone through that already,” he corrected her.
“Laura, my dear, if something is wrong, you must tell me.”

“I feel so alone,” she admitted, for lack of better words.

His expression changed, and sounding sincere, he addressed her
distress. “I understand. You have no family, no friends present. But what you have
to understand is that now, you have a new family Laura. And family is everything,
especially to those who have none. We look out for our own, we watch out for each
other, and now you will too. Let go of the past and embrace the family that has
opened its arms to you. You will never be alone.

“I was against this marriage, I know you know. You’re no fool. But
Kayne wants you. He’s made it clear, he wants you for a wife. He asked for my
blessing, asked me to walk you down the aisle. I have nothing against you. I am just
an old pessimistic geezer.” He smiled. “I see the worst in people. But… Kayne trusts
you, so does Natasha actually. They can’t both be wrong...” He smiled again, his
expression softening. “Leave Laura Spencer to her ghosts. There is a bright future
awaiting Mrs. Kayne Malkin.”

Laura remained quiet for a few minutes, taking in his words,
drinking up the temptation. The same Scorsese quote came back to her mind. It would
be warmer
under the wing of the dragon
, imagine a whole cohort, for once
flying by her side, on her side. For once, not being the lone warrior facing the
army. She let the sweet thought rock her in a calming daze.

Staring into his eyes, she gave the faintest nod,
acquiescing. A dim smile crossed her lips, an echo of her visions of a dragon family
protecting her, keeping her warm, the dragon king himself, Kayne Malkin, at her
side. Still lost in the sweet fantasy, a smile still on her lips, she felt a little
pinch in her chest, an indistinct heartache. She understood, too late, this was the
price to pay, the betrayal of Laura Spencer. Laura Spencer, who was slowly,
painfully dying within her, reaching out in a last cry from behind the mirror as she
lay trapped by the mysterious princess who had emerged and claimed her body.

Dimitri nodded back to her, satisfied, his stare heavy with
understanding. He folded the veil over her face, offered her his arm, and led her
out of the room and into the first limousine in a black procession.

***

Kayne Malkin looked dashing in a black suit. With Lucas at his side
as his best man, he awaited his future bride at the entrance of the church. Her
heart skipped a beat when she stepped off the dark horse, taking the final steps to
join herself to the bewitching Prince of Darkness waiting for her, his eyes
smoldering, fixed on her. She felt a shiver run down her spine and looked at the
crowded streets, noticing the bystanders stop and smile pleasantly at the grandiose
ceremony taking place. She thought, for the briefest of instants, to break into a
run, keep running, and never look back. But even with her face turned away, she
could feel his eyes on her, exercising their influence, silently summoning her to
him, their pull magnetic, their power over her, absolute.

She climbed the few steps under his piercing gaze, her limbs pulled
forward as if by a string. A priest met them at the entrance and blessed the young
couple. A few prayers were recited by the priest, who then took the rings and
exchanged them on the couple’s fingers three times, in symbolic homage to the Holy
Trinity. Laura witnessed the whole ordeal, disoriented. Lost in a dream, or
nightmare, she wasn’t sure anymore. She hung on to the enveloping gaze of the man
standing next to her, the one
thing keeping her feet on the ground,
her head on her shoulders. They were each given a candle, to light each other’s
paths in the hour of darkness. They were then led to the center of the church, to
begin their new journey from flawed fractions to a complete, perfect whole.

The priest recited more prayers in Russian. Laura kept her eyes
trained on Kayne, finding solace in the flames dancing in his eyes, mirroring the
ones burning within her. She felt her heart flutter when the priest finally joined
her right hand to Kayne’s.

When the crown was finally placed on each of their heads, she
sensed her inner transmutation nearing completion and with a tender heart waved off
Laura Spencer. Their right hands intertwined, candles in their left, Mrs. Kayne
Malkin stood next to her king, proud, willing to stand by him, rule with him, in
whatever kingdom he offered.

They still hadn’t exchanged a single word when the priest
instructed them to share the wine from the common cup, symbolizing their commitment
to share equally all burdens, all treasures, all of themselves. She squeezed Kayne’s
hand as they followed the priest around the sacramental table. He quickly looked her
way, an indiscernible expression on his face before turning away.

The final blessing was uttered, the crowns removed, and they headed
back to the waiting limousine, still holding hands, still silent, surrounded by
countless blessings from the attending guests.

At last alone, Laura turned to Kayne and smiled. She wanted to tell
him something, everything, but didn’t know where to start. “Don’t worry, Mrs.
Malkin, I’ve arranged a separate room for you.”

The first words her husband spoke to her cut through her like a
knife. She recoiled from him, didn’t respond, and didn’t look his way for the rest
of the ride. They spent the entire time looking out their windows in an oppressing
silence neither acknowledged.

Kayne knew the day would be horrific to Laura, knew
it was the furthest-possible scenario she could have ever dreamed of. He felt a pang
knowing he even managed to betray a young Laura, a Laura he’d never met, who
fantasized about Prince Charming and romantic happy endings.

He knew she deserved far more than he could ever offer her, far
less than he would inflict upon her. In an isolated selfless impulse, he vowed to
himself the marriage would only be a cover, just for her protection, for her
freedom, for her. He would not drag her down to his debauchery, would not take what
he manipulated her into offering willingly.

He could sense her hurt as they rode silently to the Drugov
mansion. He resisted the urge to reach for her, take her into his arms, and kiss her
with desperate passion until there was nothing left of her.

Hundreds of guests cheerfully greeted the newlyweds as they arrived
in the gardens for the reception. Both offered a plastered smile to the countless
faces smothering them in unwanted embraces. Separated by the sea of anonymous arms
reaching out, they went their separate ways, neither looking for the other.

The celebrations began with an orchestra playing traditional
Russian folk music. A beautiful singer offered a haunting rendition of “Oy da ne
Vecher,” which Olga explained to Laura was a popular folk song that told the story
of a famous soldier and his premonitory dream of his own death. In his dream, he
envisioned his horse going wild, a dark omen, and the loss of his head. That
soldier, who had truly existed, was later decapitated in battle. Laura felt her
tears well up, enraptured by the captivating melody. She felt she’d known it all her
life, somehow understood the lyrics, the tragedy behind them, without understanding
a single word.

Eventually, the couple was called to the banquet. According to
tradition, they had to down a shot of vodka and wash away its bitterness in a
lingering kiss. Facing each other, Kayne clinked his glass to Laura’s. They threw
their heads back and consumed the
first toast. The wedding guests
cheered “Gorko” in unison, crying the word “Bitter” in Russian, egging on the first
kiss.

His eyes smoldering, Kayne pulled Laura possessively to him. Before
she could realize what was going on, she felt his lips crush hers, his tongue prying
her lips open. Her heart beat madly in her chest, her senses both numbed and
awakened simultaneously.

The second toast, usually reserved for the parents, was made to the
Drugovs. The couple was to open the dance floor with the latter. The whole dance,
they stared at each other in silence, swaying in unison, their mouths unable to
speak the truth their bodies shouted. Loud applause finally reached into their haze.
They had not heard the music stop, still facing each other in complete silence,
oblivious to the world around them.

As more upbeat music broke through, families and couples took over
the dance floor. Kayne nodded to Laura, solemnly excusing himself, without a word.
His hand abandoned hers, and she didn’t see him for the rest of the night.

The sun had long since set, the moon was reclaiming its throne. The
celebration raged on. Some of the men had retreated to a private party. A few had
remained at the reception, along with all of the women and their children, still
awake. They danced, they drank, and always, they laughed. Sometimes children’s cries
and screams were heard, under the watchful, loving eyes of their parents. The
atmosphere was uniquely alluring, the chaotic bursting of life contagious, to all
but Laura, and Lucas, whom she found while trailing off on her own.

He was hanging by the side of the house, far from the crowd and
ongoing celebration. His knee folded against the wall, he was smoking a cigarette
nonchalantly when Laura approached him. “Would you have an extra one of those?” She
smiled despondently, pointing her head toward the cigarette.

He smirked, pulling his pack out. With his finger, he lifted one so
it stood out in the pack and flicked the lighter once the cigarette was between her
lips.