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“Is good. I would hate to kill such a good friend.”
With friends like him, who needed enemies. That was the first time I realized how realistically that phrase could be applied to real life.
“What’s so special about those eggs?”
His eyes bugged out as he watched me. “You steal such valuable treasure, yet you do not know their history?”
“I know about them. I just don’t understand why they’re so special.”
“My dear, these eggs were made especially for Tsar Nicholas II, the last Emperor of Russia, and the Tsarina, Empress Alexandra. At just the age of sixteen, Nicholas knew Alexandra was the woman for him. They carved their names in a windowpane. It was…a love match, and a very sad ending to their lives.”
“Wasn’t it their poor leadership that lead to their downfall?”
I shouldn’t have said anything. The scathing glare shut me up fast.
“The eggs were commissioned for Empress Alexandra and the Dowager Empress Maria. It is said that not even the emperor knew what form they would take.”
“Aren’t they just eggs?”
“Not at all, my dear. They are works of art, each designed for something special. There is even one of the Kremlin. There was only one requirement,” Ivan continued secretively, “each was to contain a surprise.”
“What kind of surprise?” I asked, a little more curious.
He sat back and shrugged. “It is not known. This—” he pointed to the corner, “—is the first I have ever laid eyes on the eggs.”
“So…let’s pop one open.”
“Pop—” He sat up straight, and for a moment, I thought he would pull his knife and slit my throat. “They are not just eggs. It is some of last remaining treasure from the reign of Nicholas and Alexandra. It is not just a symbol of our country, but a reminder that Russia will always be a good and true leader in the world.”
Well, we’d agree to disagree on that one, but who was I to judge? I wasn’t from Russia and I didn’t work for the government, but I could appreciate that these eggs held special meaning to him.
“So, I take it there are no pictures of these eggs?”
“They are out there, but not of all of them. And the missing ones…they should never been in the hands of that filthy Englishman.”
“Yeah, I don’t like the English either. It’s the accents. They always sound so much more sophisticated than we Americans. Stupid foreigners.” Realizing my mistake, I laughed it off.
Luckily, he laughed alongside me.
“I like you...”
“Raven,” I said helpfully.
“You are a raven. I see it in your eyes. So, this Nicholas, you have fallen for this man.”
We already discussed this. I wasn’t going down this road anymore. “So, tell me about you.”
“Tell me about this Nicholas.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Because you don’t want to admit how much you love him.”
I couldn’t help but snort in amusement. “I barely know him. I mean, he’s great in bed.”
“Ah,” he laughed. “To possess a woman in bed is like…holding your hand to flame. It burns and yet, the need to possess the flame is so strong.”
This Russian had a lot of weird sayings that I didn’t understand. “Uh…sure.”
