4th August, 1922
The Graymere Estate
11:00 PM
Lev sighed, checking the time on his watch for what felt like the fifth time in twenty minutes, as a grandfather clock chimed from somewhere within the vast room. He dropped his hand, shoving both into the pockets, as his gaze shifted to the french doors that led out into the gardens.
Despite what Liliya appeared to presume about him, he wasn't blind, having observed her smooth exit with the Laurence boy nearing twenty minutes ago. He'd pretended otherwise, making polite conversation with the Graymere family's guests, preferring not to be the type to make a scene. While he didn't yet feel possessive of Liliya in any sort of romantic sense, he understood optics and the implications of her slipping away to be alone with a male.
Old friend or not, Liliya knew better. There would be consequences.
Not here of course. Never here. All offense would be met with polite, if not cold, smiles and a swift exit to be dealt with within the privacy of family walls.
"Liliya?"
Nadežda's voice came as smooth and sharp as it always did, a layer of power just beneath her words that kept most people at attention. Blue eyes met that of his older cousin. No one else had noticed - good. It meant he could handle this between them.
"An old friend from Hogwarts. I'll collect her." No need to mention the friend. No need to let this go further than it needed to.
Another ill-received reprimand and he and Liliya would be at odds again, but she'd avoid the family confrontation. He could take the brunt of her inevitable annoyance, find the humor in it as always, and spare her the grief otherwise.
It certainly made things easier for him. Being reminded regularly to get her 'in-line' was becoming tiresome. He moved swiftly across the ballroom, slipping out the doors before he could be questioned further.
Lev caught her by the arm as she suddenly hurried up the brick steps and made to move past him. His fingers closed in - firmly but not aggressively. "We walk back in together." He released her, offering her his arm instead. He glanced over his shoulder, making eye contact with Laurence, the jovial expression the boy had worn earlier all but gone.
"What was all that about, Liliya?" A smirk played at the corners of his lips as he looked straight ahead. Lowering, so that only she could hear the tease on his lips. "Eager to show him your offensive leg?"
Twenty minutes. Longer than what she had hoped for. The glance at Benji's watch had quickly wiped the lingering grin off her face, a remnant of the graceless snort she hadn't had a chance to catch.
"Go. Before the bald guy thinks you're into me."
It had burst from her suddenly and unexpectedly, and for the shortest of moments she had felt herself pulled back in time. To before both their names and lives had changed, ten glorious seconds of Eira North and Benji Cuddrun making jokes about the guy with the odd haircut. As though this was some stupid school ball and the Russian transfer they both didn't like had just walked in, colliding into a rare moment of shared amusement.
But this wasn't Hogwarts and the Russian was her fiancé and the feeling faded quickly.
Squeezing another promise from Benji to keep her in the loop, Liliya at last hurried to find her way back inside, face smoothed into neutrality, hiding the turmoil of emotions still tumbling through her chest. It was bad enough she had been gone for so long, no one needed to read all that had happened right off her face.
But just before she reached the top of the stairs, excuses forming at the back of her mind, a hand wrapped around her arm like a trap. The grip stopped her in her tracks, head turning in confusion and then Lev's steely gaze froze her into place.
"We walk back in together."
Liliya swallowed, a spark of panic flashing through her blood. How much did he know? Had someone heard and gone to snitch? She quickly barricaded her fears behind a façade of stone, falling back into rigid composure without comment. His tone left no room for arguments though, dripping with authority and she knew better than to disobey. With no other choice she did as told, taking the arm he was offering. Lev was throwing a look over his shoulder, at Benji presumably, but she didn't dare to.
"What was all that about, Liliya? Eager to show him your offensive leg?"
Her jaw set as he led her back inside, annoyance flaring. Anywhere else and she might have snapped at him. Because what kind of ridiculous question was that?!
"I needed fresh air," she ground out from between clenched teeth. "We ran into each other and had a chat. Nothing more."
Fresh air. A chat. Quite the chat, it seemed. Lengthy. He caught the flash of panic on her features before she quickly masked again.
He hummed lightly, giving neither any illusions that he believed or disbelieved her, though it was as obvious to him as a howler that she was lying. Just a chat. If that were the case, they wouldn't have needed to step outside and she wouldn't have felt the urge to rush back up the terrace the way she had.
"What was your chat about?" he asked as he led her calmly through the French doors. In the far corner, their family was waiting. He intentionally slowed their stride, giving her time to answer him. Did he think she was flirting or entertaining the Laurence boy? Hardly. Liliya didn't flirt with or entertain anyone.
She consistently looked annoyed with everyone and everything around her. An angry girl, on some quiet level, but nothing that deterred Lev. She could wield all her frustration at him and be composed by the time she needed to face the family again.
Unlike what some of the elder members of his family seemed to forget about Liliya was that she hadn't been raised the same as them, and so to expect her to instantly - or even quickly, given it had been a few years - conform and forget everything she had ever been was unrealistic.
And cruel, if he were being honest about it. But families like theirs didn't have room for missteps or flounders. They weren't meant to be human in public. They were meant to be a spectacle. Untouchable. Something that others strived to be.
"They'll ask. You may as well prepare your story now."
The quiet calm of the garden died a swift death. One step through the doors and the overlapping chatter of too many people absorbed her back into its midst, immediately uncomfortable, the air too thick.
"What was your chat about?”
“The weather,” Liliya deadpanned, gaze ahead, tone dry. He could question her all he wanted, she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. The mere mention of looking forward to meeting Rosie had prompted a reprimand about her misbehaving tendencies. She could only imagine his reaction if he knew inquiring about her friend's mysterious whereabouts had been her actual reason for leaving his side.
She supposed she could lie. Weave it into the truth. Tell him she had asked about Rosie, wondering why she wasn't attending. Tell him she hadn't felt good, had stayed home. It kind of was the truth, wasn't it? Disprovable though. And anyway, he'd still find a way to twist it sideways somehow, finding a reason to make her feel stupid and incompetent.
She'd rather he think she had an affair with Benji.
Let alone what she’d found out.
A Laurence running away with a halfblood, entangled in some interfamilial scandal? Not exactly the kind of connection he would approve of. Better to keep it to herself.
He slowed their gate and she glanced at him, confused.
"They'll ask. You may as well prepare your story now.”
Her eyes flashed. “I don’t need to prepare a fucking story,” she hissed, careful to keep quiet. “I didn’t do anything.” But her gaze bolted forward again, catching that of Nadežda, cold and piercing even from across the room, and her stomach dropped.
The hand resting against his lower arm tightened. Her steps slowed until they stopped.
“What did you tell her?”, she asked, eyes back to his face, apprehension straining her voice. Would he rat her out to her aunt? Had he already? She knew well enough what twenty minutes alone in the garden with another looked like.
But she had been careful, hadn’t she? Nadežda couldn’t know. If she only so much as suspected anything out of line, Liliya might as well go bury herself in the garden right now.
His expression remained unmoving, even as annoyance took hold of him. The better part of three years now, and she still didn't seem to understand how serious all of this was.
The weather, she'd said, as though he were just an acquaintance to be brushed off. Very well. Two could play at her game, if she insisted on behaving like a stubborn, spoiled brat. Whatever she and Laurence had discussed now became of little concern to the man who was now concerned as to why she felt the need to lie to him.
Had he ever given her reason to lie? Had he ever run to the family with any information she'd told him to use against her?
It was insulting.
Still, he remained quiet and reserved.
“I don’t need to prepare a fucking story. I didn’t do anything.”
"Who said you did?" he asked, feeling her slow next to him as he in turn matched her pace. What did he tell her? Lev could answer honestly. He could tell her that he'd only offered to collect her from catching up with an old friend.
"How nice the weather is tonight," he answered dryly, resuming his pace and tugging her more purposefully with him.
"Who said you did?”
Liliya’s brow creased, panic momentarily forgotten.
That confused her. His whole demeanour confused her.
Granted, he had seemed annoyed with her the moment she had run into his open hand, unfortunately justifiably so — even she knew that twenty minutes in the bathroom was hardly believable and brushing him off as she had wouldn't earn her any goodwill either. But she had expected an interrogation, or some sort of accusation in the very least.
Instead he gave her — what? Backup? Coverup? It baffled her.
Only his next words, dry and harsh, and his quickening pace tugging her further on brought her back to the present, reminding her of composure with a jolt. Her face quickly found back to its practiced neutrality, gaze ahead, but the grip on his arm remained a fraction too tight. The only sign of the resumed beat of apprehension pulsing in her veins.
Nadežda’s attention still lingered on her and those piercing eyes never revealed what the woman truly thought.
When they joined her, she sounded almost casual, lacking the too sharp bite she got when her mind was already made up. “How is your friend?”, she asked, lifting a brow.
Despite the hint of disapproval swinging with her aunt's tone, Liliya knew Lev really hadn't said anything to her. She would know if he had.
Somehow she was both grateful and annoyed at the same time.
Liliya suppressed the urge to swallow, quickly rearranging words and facts until they weaved into a better picture, lying through her teeth. “She is well. Had a lot to tell. Sorry I was gone for so long, apparently it’s been an eventful two years for her, she just kept going on and on.” She even managed to sound a little exasperated. As though she really hadn't wanted to talk to this fantasy female friend all that long but had been trapped there by the other's unending need for conversation, and cutting it short really would have been too rude.
Liliya kept her eyes on Nadežda's as the woman's flicked to Lev, waiting for confirmation.
Everything inside her stilled.
If he didn’t pull along she was fucked.
And prepare her story she did.
As they rejoined the group, Liliya's grasp tightening on his arm, he thought he could sense the fear in her. Nadežda wasn't an easy woman to impress, and she ran a ship so tight the Titanic could have crashed right through that iceberg and remained seaworthy. She was a woman who didn't entertain games - not from the youth in her family - and Lev knew good and well what Liliya might be in for, depending on how this all went.
She could tell the truth and possibly still avoid consequences, if she somehow leveraged what she and Laurence were discussing to the benefit of the family.
“She is well. Had a lot to tell. Sorry I was gone for so long, apparently it’s been an eventful two years for her, she just kept going on and on.”
Lev didn't react, but there was chirping somewhere behind his ears, noting how quickly and easily Liliya came up with her excuse - her lie - and played it off with ease. While foolish to try and get one over on Nadežda, Lev could appreciate her subtle deception all the same.
That didn't mean he had to go along with it.
His cousin's gaze turned to him for confirmation. Lev wasn't a liar, by any stretch of the imagination, certainly not to his own family. If he covered for Liliya, and someone else had happened to see her, he'd be implicated as well. He didn't know what she and Laurence had discussed, and being left out of the conversation and then silently asked to go along with her little scheme anyway, rubbed him the wrong way.
Still, he could leverage this.
He nodded, once, confirming Liliya's story, as Nadežda's expression softened only slightly, satisfied it seemed. When she turned away, Lev's cast his gaze sideways at Liliya, now hardened and cold. He didn't appreciate being put into such a position, but he'd stepped into it himself.
Now she owed him.
"We'll discuss this at home," he whispered between gritted teeth, tugging her along with him when Nadežda indicated it was time to leave.
Everything on the inside sagged when Lev nodded — all that she had needed, a tiny gesture that would spare her hours of pain and humiliation. Nadežda turned away and Liliya’s grip on Lev’s arm finally relaxed, the only sign betraying the wave of relief washing through her.
For a split second, it was enough to forget about the other problem she’d still have to deal with. Meeting the glacial look in Lev’s eyes quickly dampened the feeling of averted crisis however.
"We'll discuss this at home."
Liliya ground her teeth together, obediently following when Lev tugged her along but keeping the renewed turmoil of emotion off her face. It crawled beneath her skin though, all the way through their goodbye’s, all the way back to the apparation point beyond the garden. Preparing her for whatever she’d face at home.
Nothing was worse than Nadežda.
She repeated that like a mantra, hoping it was true.
4 August 1922
11:43pm
Harewood House
The door clicked shut but Liliya didn’t turn, walking until she stopped in front of her vanity with faux collectedness.
Saying nothing she fumbled with the clasp of her earring, waiting for impact.
4 August 1922
11:43pm
Harewood House
She was exhausting, but not enough for Lev to give in. At some point, Liliya needed to understand what their role was together, and that he couldn't - wouldn't - protect her, if she continued to try and play him for a fool.
Betrothal aside, his ass was on the line here as much as hers was and she was playing with fire.
He couldn't allow it to continue.
He followed her through the door to the sitting room they shared, and into her bedroom - a place he tried to avoid out of respect for her, but wouldn't tonight. Closing it quietly behind them, he watched as she stopped in front of her vanity, seemingly unbothered by all that had transpired.
Perhaps she didn't truly understand the gravity of everything they were facing.
Other men may have lost their temper. They may have shouted or roughed her up a bit. Lev knew there were plenty of men that slapped their women around when they stepped out of line, but he saw no purpose in it. What would handling her like a punching bag solve anything?
He moved with measured steps to cross the distance between them before slipping in front of her, blocking her view of the mirror. He stared at her a moment, blue ice meeting her own as he took a few calm breaths to steady himself. She wasn't Drago who he could be crass and blunt with.
"You understand how easy it would have been for me to let Nadežda have you?" His question was simple, void of any inflection or emphasis. Simply factual, laying in the truth of what he had spared her. "Whatever game you think you're playing, you're far out of your depths."
He moved from the mirror, pacing the room a bit as he unfastened his tie. "I can't help you if you insist on lying to me. But dragging me into whatever that was and forcing me to lie for you without any context," he shook his head, letting out a soft puff of air, "I won't do it again."
Lev stepped in between her and the mirror and Liliya looked up to meet his gaze, hands lowering to her sides, one clasping her earring. Its edges dug into her skin but impact came a different way than feared.
"You understand how easy it would have been for me to let Nadežda have you?"
His voice was calm, but every word weighed with implication. The brief sense of relief was quickly drowned out by annoyance. Yes, she knew — he could have handed her over, called out her lie, let Nadežda have a go at her. All he’d had to do was shake his head instead of nodding it. A risky move, but she’d seen no other choice.
"Whatever game you think you're playing, you're far out of your depths.”
Her lips pressed thin as he moved away, gaze meeting her own in the mirror. Like a child admonished for another wrongdoing, Liliya felt how the embarrassment seeped back in. The way he managed so well. Making her feel stupid. She should have been more careful, cleverer. Now she had to stand in the wake of another dumb mistake, enduring reprimand from her fiancé as though he was her parent, knowing he was fucking right. Again.
The grip around her earring tightened.
"I can't help you if you insist on lying to me. But dragging me into whatever that was and forcing me to lie for you without any context. I won't do it again.”
Well, she supposed she understood that. Begrudgingly. Lying to Nadežda was never a good idea, she knew that well enough. For some reason though, he had done it anyway.
Liliya swallowed, placing her earring into the jewellery casket on her vanity, watching herself in the mirror. For a split second the truth sat right there on the tip of her tongue, one moment of hesitancy.
She decided against it.
“I wasn’t lying,” she said, aiming for level and confident. Shaking her hair back, she busied herself with the second earring. “We were just chatting. Two years is a lot of time to catch up on.” Forcing the tremble from her hands, she replaced that earring too before turning to face Lev.
“I figured Nadežda wouldn’t be happy to know I was gone with another guy, and she probably wouldn’t have been happy that you let me.” Her brows rose, head tilting cockily. “So I guess you saved your own ass as much as you did mine, you’re welcome.”
Liliya had a way of making her own situation worse than it needed to be.
Rather than understanding when certain things only required a soft acknowledgement - or better in some cases, no response at all - his young cousin thought it better to run her mouth and dig her own grave a little deeper. Egotistical as she was, Liliya always seemed to want the last word, the last jab, the last little declaration of defiance that did her no favors and only exasperated him more.
Two years, she had insisted, required a private meeting away from prying eyes and ears. A simple catch-up could have seen her and the Laurence boy conversating idly in front of her family if nothing were truly untoward. Nadežda would hardly complain, if she could overhear the polite, friendly conversation, moreso if it leant towards the Zdravkovas getting a real 'in' with the Laurences after the first unsuccessful attempt.
It was all bullshit, and Lev could smell it a mile away.
“I figured Nadežda wouldn’t be happy to know I was gone with another guy, and she probably wouldn’t have been happy that you let me. So I guess you saved your own ass as much as you did mine, you’re welcome.”
It was enough. Lev moved swiftly, only a few measured steps before he snatched Liliya's wrist, his grip tighter than it probably should have been, while his eyes bore closely into hers. "Who do you think you're talking to?" His voice came low and even, but cracked with the chill that indicated he wasn't open to anymore of her little games tonight. "I'm not your friend. I'm not one of your old classmates that you think yourself superior to."
He leaned in closer.
"The only 'ass' I saved was yours. Mine was never in danger." His fingers tightened with precision, correcting the posture of the unruly child in front of him. “If Nadežda had found you, I would have been inconvenienced. You would have been ruined.” His gaze flicked down to her wrist, then back to her face. "Your defiance makes you predictable. You are not dangerous, or clever. You're a spoiled girl with a loud mouth. Do yourself the favor of remembering who will be left explaining your behavior when you finally bite off more than you can chew."
He dropped her wrist abruptly and took a step back, shaking his head slightly. "If I ever choose to save myself instead of you, you will know the difference."
The arrogance drained from her face the moment he stood before her, his hand wrapping around her wrist, gripping tightly and pulling a soft hiss from her lips.
"Who do you think you're talking to?”
Liliya didn’t move, body tense and rigid where she met his eyes. They bore into hers, cold in the way they got when she knew she’d finally crossed the line, the crack of ice in his voice sharp enough to shut her up.
"I'm not your friend. I'm not one of your old classmates that you think yourself superior to.”
She held his stare, heartbeat drumming against her ribs. His words cut through the layer of pretence she had thrown on, finding straight to the centre of her defiance, disarming it just as easily. He was her fiancé, her handler, her watchman. Zdravkova just as much as Nadežda was and right now she could see it clearly. Somehow she kept on forgetting at times.
A small wince twisted her face when his grip tightened even further.
Still less painful than the truths he was spitting at her. The powerlessness that accompanied them and the way all her desires clashed like oil and water, puzzle pieces from two boxes she tried so hard to make fit. Every time she thought she might manage, he proved how foolish and dumb she really was. How far she was from being anything like them. She just couldn’t do it. Like something inside of her refused to bend, with tooth and nail, clinging to independence and the things she couldn’t let go of.
She wanted to. But she didn’t know how.
"Your defiance makes you predictable. You are not dangerous, or clever. You're a spoiled girl with a loud mouth. Do yourself the favor of remembering who will be left explaining your behavior when you finally bite off more than you can chew.”
He finally let go of her.
Liliya caught her wrist, rubbing the spot where her bones had begun to ache, not meeting his eyes. Humiliation and self-contempt rooted her motionless where she stood, quickly morphing into irritation. Every goddamn time she ended up like this. The admonished, unruly child.
She wanted to kick him, push him, for the fact she knew he was right and she hated that.
Silence settled as she quietly began to seethe, loathing herself. Swallowing hard, Liliya at last turned back to her vanity, saying no word and not deigning to look at him. She sat with as much composure she could muster, beginning to undo her hair, her chest feeling empty and too tight. If she was lucky, he would simply leave.
Trigger Warning
The following posts will contain some sexual content and language. Reader discretion advised. 1:45 PM
Lev’s head fell against the back of the sofa, one hand running through his short hair, the other gripping the hip of the house maid that still straddled his lap. He let out a low sigh, his muscles falling heavy with the satisfaction that flooded him. He could feel Rimma’s eyes on him as she slowed, ignoring the way her hand reached to cup the side of his face. It was intrusive, despite what they had just done. Intimate in a way Lev wasn’t prepared for nor had any desire to reciprocate.
It was physical only. The illusion of love or sentiment needn’t pass between the two, not when their interactions had always been so casual and easy.
Lev was a man of many desires, pretty women having always been at the top of that list. In school, he had done well for himself, a casual girlfriend here or there, but mostly girls that he enjoyed for a short time before moving on to the next that caught his eye. There were always plenty of them at Durmstrang, eager to get their hands on a Zdravkova boy and Lev had never been one to disappoint the masses.
Rimma was convenient. Nice on the eyes and even better in bed. A good time when he wanted one, and considering his betrothed wanted nothing to do with him in that area - or so he assumed based upon their relationship - the house maid was good at scratching that itch.
He was a man, with needs, and didn’t expect Liliya to meet them just because he said so.
Rimma leaned in, her lips ghosting along his, but he pulled back, blue eyes opening slowly to meet the young woman’s gaze. He thought he saw questions behind hers, but they weren’t any he was willing to entertain. If she couldn’t control her emotions, he would simply move on. “Lev,” she said softly, a plea written across her features. “You know not to call me that,” he said, nudging her up off his lap so he could straighten himself. She stood, looking crushed, but Lev ignored it as he reached for his belt.
She swallowed hard, steadying herself. “Do you want me to come back after dinner?”
Lev shook his head as he stood, looping his belt, his pants still unfastened when the door to the sitting room suddenly swung open. Apparently he’d forgotten to lock and ward the damn thing. If it was one of his brothers -
“Come back later, Drago,” he called quickly, but his chest tightened when the door opened wider, the face of his fiancée meeting his gaze. He froze for a moment, his belt not quite through all of its loops, and he cleared his throat, before buttoning his trousers and yanking the belt through the rest of the way.
“This was enough Rimma. Goodbye.” He nodded the maid towards the door, before his eyes cast back to Liliya.
Poking around in Everleigh’s head had ended sooner than expected. From the moment Liliya had pushed into the girl’s mind, things had felt askew, even less stable than usual, harder to control. Trying to find a way through that mess was never exactly easy, but today had been especially rough.
Liliya knew she couldn’t put all the blame on Everleigh though. Her moods tended to change in the span of minutes, swinging from motionless, mental absence to screaming meltdown without so much as a warning, oftentimes with no outwardly observable trigger whatsoever. It happened often enough. Today however, Liliya knew her own mind had been the reason for the premature end to their session.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Rosie. And adjacent to that, Benji. She still hadn’t heard back since meeting him over a week ago and the flutter that seemed to reside in her stomach with ever-persistent anxiety had been too distracting to ignore. Thankfully Nadežda hadn’t suspected anything, assuming Everleigh the volatile factor of the equation and sending her home without a second thought. The unexpected free time until their next appointment was welcome, a good hour and a half to get her head in order, lest she did end up drawing Nadežda’s eye. Losing Rosie before she even manged to get her back...Liliya rather not think on it.
But all unwelcome ruminating died the instant she opened the door to her shared quarters, feet rooting to an abrupt halt by the sight before her. Lips parting, Liliya blinked through the momentary confusion, gaze travelling down Lev's front — the undone shirt, the halfway looped belt— darting to the maid next — a little dishevelled, wearing an expression like a jack-rabbit in the headlights, realization dawning.
For a single heartbeat, Liliya was stunned into place. Her fiancé was fucking a housemaid. Huh. Interesting. Somehow she had never considered the possibility; she certainly wasn't entertaining anyone. Whyever she had assumed that meant he didn't either seemed ridiculous suddenly. Of course he did. Unwittingly, her hand still wrapped around the doorhandle tightened its grip.
“This was enough Rimma. Goodbye.”
Rimma finally found the decency to lower her eyes, embarrassment written all over her face as she hurried to make her leave, but Liliya snapped her gaze back to Lev, holding it for a prolonged moment as something locked beneath composure stirred and then snapped loose.
Her back hit the door before Rimma had the chance to slip away, shutting it with a thud that halted the maid mid-step, eyes widening.
Liliya’s lips spread into a slow smile.
Absolutely not. This man, Lev goddamn Zdravkova — always oh so composed, always so in control — would not get to dismiss the one time she'd caught him literally dick halfway out. He could stew in this awkwardness a little while longer. In fact, she though maybe she would make it a little worse.
“Aw, don’t leave us yet, Rimma, I want to hear all about it,” Liliya cooed, giving the maid a look of mock regret before swerving back to Lev, cocking her head. “Was it good? Did he hit that spot? Does he moan?”
Her head fell back in silent laughter, an almost forgotten chaos seeping into her blood and spurring her on. "I mean —", her eyes rounded in innocence as they found back to Rimma, nonchalance swinging with every word, "— it would be good to know. After all, I will have to do my duty at some point, right? Best if I go in with all the knowledge I can get —"
She gasped slightly, voice shifting lower. "Does he...you know..." She waved a hand, dropping into a whisper. "Last?"
"Liliya, let her go. Don't be childish."
As Liliya planted herself in front of the door, cutting off Rimma's escape, Lev merely rolled his eyes. His attention remained on fastening the last buttons of his shirt, unhurried despite the scene unfolding around him.
It was unfortunate she'd walked in. Not because of guilt, as there wasn't any, but because discretion had always been simpler. The sitting room had served him well for years. Today, Liliya had simply chosen the wrong moment to return.
“Was it good? Did he hit that spot? Does he moan?”
Apparently, Rimma was in for a humiliation ritual while Lev looked on.
He looked up then, blue eyes meeting Liliya's across the room as he smoothed a hand through his hair. He said nothing, content to let her tire herself out if that was what she intended.
"I mean — it would be good to know. After all, I will have to do my duty at some point, right? Best if I go in with all the knowledge I can get —"
"You could just ask me," he said easily, stepping forward to take Rimma gently by the wrist. The girl whimpered slightly from embarrassment, her lips parting to offer her apologies, none of which Lev wanted to hear or have her say. Her mouth had already opened.
"Don't."
One word. Enough to silence Rimma and her unnecessary repentance. His gaze never left Liliya. "Move."
"Does he...you know...last?"
"For fucks sake," Lev swore, the first crack in his patience. She'd made it abundantly clear over the years that she wanted nothing from him romantically, and he had never intended to force the matter. They'd marry when required, produce children as expected, and life would continue as always.
In the meantime, Lev was a man who had needs, and Rimma fulfilled them willingly. It was an arrangement so practical it didn't warrant a discussion. Especially not with Liliya.
He reached out to grab Liliya by the arm, dragging Rimma with him. "Move from the door." His fingers tightened slightly as his blue eyes bore into his cousin's. "Now."
God, the way this man aggravated her. Acting so fucking composed and unbothered all the damn time. A lofty, little shit, so flawless and always right, and wasn’t he just so above it all? The way he took his sweet time buttoning his shirt, face bored, voice casual as though he wasn’t at least a little bit embarrassed. She knew he was. He had to be.
And if not embarrassed then at least annoyed. Annoyed that this wasn’t going according to how he’d planned it to. That she’d interrupted and now had her fun with his little whore housemaid while he watched. Taking control away and making it her own.
All the while acting as though it was still his, and she hated it. Hated how he assumed that one word was enough, one snap of his fingers and she’d fall back in line, handing over command simply because he demanded so. Pretending to be this perfect, infallible heir, fazed by nothing, imperturbable. A cold, emotionless rock and she the little lamb expected to listen and obey. Just this once she wanted to make him feel dumb, wanted to see this mask of untouchable indifference break and slip. Be the one who decided how this went no matter the consequences.
She’s had enough of his ego power tripping, feeling like a child every time he looked at her. Like a fault, like a mistake, like a flaw, doing everything wrong and deserving reprimand while he got away caught with his dignity unzipped and expecting no one to bat an eye. The moment he grabbed a hold of Rimma, shutting down whatever she’d been about to say and she let him, another cog sprang loose. Liliya was done with this, she was appalled by Rimma’s subjugation, she felt every thread tied to contain her old self cut free. Because fuck him.
"Move.”
Liliya didn't, keeping her gaze on Rimma and the humiliation on her face, feeding on the chaos rushing through her veins.
"For fucks sake.”
And there it was. The first crack. Her grin widened, laughter tickling at the back of her throat. As his other hand found around her own wrist, squeezing slightly, Liliya couldn’t help but laugh. He always did that. At the ball. After the ball. Now. She had caved before but she couldn’t give a fuck if he broke her wrist this time. Whatever it took to make him crack some more.
"Move from the door. Now.”
Liliya remained where she stood, meeting the piercing eyes of her fiancé with a smile, making no attempt to free her wrist.
Then her gaze found back to Rimma. “Does it feel to you like he’s getting a bit agitated?”, she asked, tilting her head in thought. “Bit intemperate, isn’t it? Not very composed of him.” She clicked her tongue, making a face before looking back into Lev’s frosty eyes. “Not a great impression of the man who calls himself the heir.”
She was insufferable, but this was his own making. Lev could see it clearly now. In his efforts to allow Liliya to warm up to him, to acclimate and get used to the idea of an eventual marriage, Lev had been too lenient and soft.
Now, here she stood, a defiant child who hadn’t been admonished enough to know that her poor behavior was unacceptable.
Lev was a man. A Zdravkova man, and with that, came privileges the women in the family simply weren’t afforded. All the women knew and looked the other way if the man had been indiscreet enough to allow her to see. Lev could admit he’d fucked up here, but only to extent that he hadn’t taken his privacy more seriously in order to spare Liliya what she’d seen.
Her feelings, however, were of little concern to him, and he had no desire to stand there and placate a smug, spoiled girl. Especially in front of a house maid.
Fine. He would move her himself.
Releasing Rimma, Lev moved swiftly, lifting Liliya up in one smooth motion, while he nodded Rimma to the door. “Out. Now.”
Rimma rushed for the door, her face red and eyes welling with tears. The housemaid vanished beyond it, the door closing behind her with a rough thud.
Lev paid it no further mind, carrying Liliya to an armchair and depositing her there roughly. “I am the heir,” he said, his voice low and tepid, the annunciation of each word slow and methodical. “You want to see what it looks like when I lose my composure?” She’d goaded him, tried to humiliate him in front of the help.
She was stupid.
Lev couldn’t be humiliated with simple words. If he could, what sort of man would that make him? What sort of future could this family hope for if their eldest son lost himself at a few sharp words from an angry little girl? No, it took much more than that to truly get under his skin. Years of verbal degradation from the mouth of his father, years of being a ‘Zdravkova Boy’ at Durmstrang had thickened his skin far deeper than any snide remarks she made could puncture.
For now, he was merely irritated, the rush he’d had with Rimma now wasted to the splitting headache that was beginning to set in.
“If it bothers you so much, then behave like a wife,” he said simply, moving away from her chair to snatch his tie from where it dangled across the back of the sofa. “Don’t speak to Rimma like that again.” It wasn’t that he had any feelings for the girl, or any real concern for how this had affected her. She knew the risks of sleeping with him. It was the matter of reminding Liliya of her place and how she was to behave in his presence and otherwise.
“It is good though,” he said, as he moved towards the door that led to his bedroom. “Now there’s no secrets between us.” There were, but let her think otherwise. Lev didn’t give a fuck.
A laugh ripped free as Lev hoisted her over his shoulder, carrying her away from the door while telling Rimma to leave. “Byeeee!”, Liliya called after their third wheel, more than pleased with how this was going. In her opinion this round was a point for her. She had forced Lev into a corner where he had to either let her have her way or snap and crack a little more. Both options a win.
It seemed the latter was the case.
Still grinning, Liliya hit the armchair Lev deposited her in, bouncing with a giggle.
“I am the heir,” he said and she had to snort again, brushing hair from her face as she lounged back, unimpressed by his tone. Amused, rather. Poor, little boy. Had she just found his insecurity, the one button she could push? The oldest son so eager to grovel to his father’s demands and expectations, never quite good enough and utterly desperate for recognition? For a little bit of approval?
God, it actually disgusted her.
All he ever really did was pretend. Pretend to be a man. While deep down he was nothing more than a motherless child with no one to beg for love for but an emotionally dead father who couldn’t give a shit.
“You want to see what it looks like when I lose my composure?”
Yes!, she wanted to say, wanted to gleefully beam into his face. That was her entire intention packed into one question. She wanted to see him snap, she wanted to see his façade crumble, she wanted him to admit that behind all that stone sat imperfection. Unfortunately he cut her off before she got the chance to answer.
“If it bothers you so much, then behave like a wife.”
Incredulity twisted her face, another laugh sitting her upright. “What, you think I’m bothered because you’re fucking a maid?”, she asked, watching him gather the last piece if his costume. “Please, I couldn’t care less if you fucked the whole house. As long as it’s not the damn elves — that’d be weird — do it with whoever is willing.” She cast a glace around the room. “And do we need to get the furniture cleaned? Wait, did you ever do it in here?” Liliya rushed out of the armchair, regarding it with an appalled expression as she wiped her palms on her skirts. Yuck.
“Don’t speak to Rimma like that again.”
“Riiiight.” She rolled her eyes, turning to look at him. “Wouldn’t want to hurt the maid’s feelings. In the end she’ll start crying and how tremendously inappropriate that would be, to lose face like that because all we ever do is be composed and act like rocks.” She tutted mockingly, giving her forehead a clap as though he’d pointed out the most obvious thing that she had been just a little too dense to see.
The way she detested him and his casual commands. Don’t do this, act like that, don’t speak, don’t feel, don’t disobey. That’s all he ever said. It was sickening and she decided she was done with it. He could watch her stop trying. None of it was good enough anyway.
“It is good though. Now there’s no secrets between us.”
Liliya raised a brow, grinning. Maybe that was true on his side. But it sure as hell wasn’t on hers. Lev was halfway through the door to his bedroom when Liliya crossed her arms, smiling. “None at all.”
“What, you think I’m bothered because you’re fucking a maid?”
Something about it obviously did bother her, but Lev said nothing, allowing her the little tantrum that she was so desperate to finally have. Fuck the whole house, for all she cared. Unnecessary. Lev wasn't a man without control of his own appetites and Rimma satisfied them just fine. He didn't need to take 'anyone that was willing'. He took what he wanted, if they wanted, and that was enough.
It was interesting how unbothered she claimed to be, while making such a big deal out of relatively nothing.
If she was hurt, she could just say so, and he'd apologize for her having to see it.
“And do we need to get the furniture cleaned? Wait, did you ever do it in here?”
"Everywhere." He almost grinned, his eyes boring into hers from across the room. Almost. His chin tilted upwards as she made a big display of seeming disgusted. "I'll leave it to you to figure out the details, since you're so interested." What more was there to say? Liliya was a spoiled brat, and always had been. Whatever had raised her had made her feral, wild, grotesque in her mannerisms and her ability to handle difficult situations.
No matter how hard she seemed to try, she could never bury the ugliest parts of herself, even for her own benefit. She was her own worst enemy, and Lev didn't understand why they hadn't married her off to some other family and made her someone else's problem, instead of keeping her insulated inside walls she'd never fit.
Still, no one would ever hear him complaining. Unlike his cousin, he understood how to control his emotions for the betterment of all.
She was selfish.
“Wouldn’t want to hurt the maid’s feelings. In the end she’ll start crying and how tremendously inappropriate that would be, to lose face like that because all we ever do is be composed and act like rocks.”
"Being nasty to her is beneath us," he said simply, "Perhaps not you. You're nasty to everyone you think will let you get away with it. Do you know what that's called?" He paused only a moment. "A coward." The word left him cleanly, without malice or flourish, only obvious and exasperated.
“You think vulgarity is the same thing as defiance. You mistake being loud for being formidable. You mistake making others uncomfortable for winning.” His gaze flicked briefly over the armchair she had leapt from, then back to her face.
A worse man may have hit her. A kinder man may have softened.
Lev was neither.
“It is tiresome. But by all means, Liliya, don't ever grow up.” He was going to shower. She could throw a fit all she wanted.
She didn’t care for anything he threw back her way.
Not when he attempted to tease her with his ‘everywhere’ comment and the jab that followed — something she might have risen to before but that elicited no more than an amused laugh now. Not the way he called her nasty, a coward, vulgar. Not even when he tried to beat down on her again by listing all the things he thought she was doing wrong, the same strategy he always used to make her feel dumb and small. She didn’t care anymore; she was over him and everything he represented.
Fuck him and his controlling ways. His persistent judgement and feeling never good enough. She took the words he threw across the room to the chest, but their impact didn’t feel the same. Somehow, through all of this, a numbness had settled in where before his assessment had hurt. Previously, she had lost the grin, had dropped her confidence, had shut up and let him win. Now, something had shifted.
“It is tiresome. But by all means, Liliya, don't ever grow up.”
Liliya nodded, light-hearted and grinning. “Heard!", she said, turning to make for her own bedroom door, ready to take that nap she had been looking forward to this whole time. He could go and be tired by her behaviour, annoyed and frustrated — on the inside, of course — but Liliya was done feeling like shit because of him.
Throwing a sweet smile over her shoulder, nose scrunching she stepped into her room. “See you at dinner then!” She waved her fingers at him and with a purposeful thud, closed the door.
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Thursday, 28 September 1922
~ 06:54 pm ~
Harewood House Party
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The evening had progressed in the same boring fashion as all of these events did.
Everyone important had shown up to another one of Zdravkova’s resplendent estate parties, bathed in opulent luxury and entertainment, an excuse to show off wealth, to impress the British elite and network with the influential. Food and drink, music and dance, conversation after conversation, and the ever-persistent pretence that encompassed every person and every word.
Liliya suffered through it quietly. With that pleasant smile and that straight posture hours of etiquette lessons had beaten into her mind and body, her arm around Lev’s, nodding politely, laughing when appropriate, making the meaningless kind of conversation filled with empty phrases a lady was expected to deliver. All prim, all proper. Everything she was expected to do and be.
Not a toe out of line.
Not blatantly.
A comment here or there, nothing that deserved outright reprimand, just an innocent little quip for Lev and her to enjoy, something only he would understand as exactly that. Harmless on the surface but providing her with immense satisfaction.
“I have to say, the service is impeccable. I have never seen such discipline among servants.”
“Oh, yes! They are just wonderfully attentive, don’t you agree, Lev?”
“You two simply look lovely together. I do hope he is taking good care of you, miss.”
“Most certainly. My fiancé keeps a very close eye on me.”
“It must be terribly hard to align two schedules so busy, no? Do you ever have time together?”
“Oh, so rarely, unfortunately. But luckily we are both quite self-sufficient; we both have ways to keep ourselves entertained.”
It truly was the only thing carrying her through the evening’s long hours. A tiny bit of fun to keep her mind occupied and her sanity intact, a fraction of freedom just for herself. The secrets she was holding dancing in frolicsome joy at the back of her mind, mocking him.
Whether Lev cared or not, whether he noticed, whether he thought her childish and immature — she didn’t care. She had stopped weeks ago.
As they disentangled themselves from yet another totally important interaction, Liliya released a small, relieved sigh, perfect smile in place. “Conversation twenty-five: done. Who next?”
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