Page 27 of Lord of the Underworld

"Sit," Violet says. "I'll take care of them."

"So, the good news," Maks continues. "Father will officially announce Nikolai as his Sovietnik-"

"Finally!" I throw my arms up.

"-and I will become Vor. The announcement is next week."

The girls are silent, watching me for a reaction, and all I can think of is the well-deserved ruin of this man. Yefim enjoyed tormenting people without the power to protect themselves. Somehow, his punishment feels even better than if they'd killed him.

Clearing my throat, I try to look grave and composed. "And yet, they have no idea who did this?" I know I still sound too happy for such a horrific discussion, but I can't stop myself.

"None," he says, shrugging. It's no secret that there's no love lost between my brothers and Yefim. He clung to his position like a leech, far past the time when Nikolai, as the oldest son, should have stepped into the role. No one in our family will be shedding a tear for that disgusting troll.

"Good," I say. "I mean, for you and Nikolai, of course. You're finally getting the positions you were meant to have all along."

"We're getting tight on time," he says, checking his watch. He sweeps out an elegant bow. "Ladies. A pleasure to bask in your beauty."

"I'm guessing Yefim is not popular?" Iris asks as the door shuts behind him. She'd been watching my expression closely as I'd been listening to Maks.

"He's a pig," I say bluntly. "None of us, aside from Father, thought he was worthy of even stepping foot in our house, much less taking the role of Sovietnik. You'll forgive me if I don't mourn his exit."

"Well, then good," Caroline says. "A toast!" She refills everyone's glass. "To the well-timed retirement of Yefim, Sovietnik of… ex Sovietnik, rather, and to the ascension of your brothers."

I tap my glass with the others, then I pause before I drink.

Well-timed.

Could someone have specifically timed this attack? Who would benefit? My brothers are both too afraid of Father to have done it. But someone wasn't.

One of the most beautiful bits of history that Moscow has managed to maintain in the middle of its gallop toward the future are the magnificent old cathedrals, lovingly preserved, saved from being erased to make way for steel and glass skyscrapers like so many other old buildings were.

I would have liked to have had our Orthodox Crowning in the Church of the Ascension, an exquisite white stone building that's slightly humbler than some of the others.

Mr. Maurice, however, had set his sights on the largest and tallest church in Russia, the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour, glittering gold and white in the sun, magnificent, and overwhelming.

Everything he and Mother could want.

The end of October is sending icy winds tearing around the building; sending petals from the lavish flower arrangements flying everywhere and ruffling through my elaborate updo as we emerge from the armored Dartz Prombron. The car was Mr. Maurice's choice, of course. "It is trimmed with diamonds, you see," he'd said when he went through the day's schedule in the Power Point presentation. "Simply perfect."

"A diamond-trimmed car?" Anka murmurs as she holds up my skirt. "Your family must have out-spent Valentina Lebedev's wedding budget, she only had a diamond-encrusted bodice on her dress."

"Mother must be so happy," I sigh, shaking my head.

As we stand in a sheltered alcove by the enormous, gold-covered entryway to the cathedral, I wonder what it will be like, seeing Vadim again.

I'll bet he looks spectacular in a tux.

And just like that, everything south of my waist starts tingling.

What is wrong with you? You're in the House of the Lord!

Still tingling.

"Are you nervous?" Anka whispers as we are directed to process.

"No," I murmur. "I don't know why, but… no."

In the Russian tradition, I walk into the cathedral alone, with Anka behind me. I'm grateful I don't have to endure Father walking me down the aisle.