Page 61 of Fractured Empire

It doesn’t take long for her to notice me beginning to clean up the messy counter, mainly focusing on the food droppings. She, in turn, starts to work on putting away the unused ingredients, giving me more space to clean. She bags up toppings, reseals jars of sauce, and clears away some dirty dishes while I start to wipe down most of the mess.

We make a good team, working quickly and efficiently to clean up the disaster area within only a few minutes. When things look relatively back to normal, she smiles and puts her hands on her hips, eyeing our accomplishment with pride.

“That wasn’t so bad.” She hums and then looks down at herself.

The tight white T-shirt she changed into while the boys napped is now speckled with sauce stains and wet flour is stuck to several spots. Her black fabric pants have been spared by any staining but are decorated with white powder like she’s been running around a bakery all day.

“I should probably change.” She looks back up, her cheeks tinting as if she’s embarrassed for her appearance. As if I didn’t watch my son cause almost every single bit of damage to her outfit while she made him laugh and helped him cook. “Actually, I need to change. I think I might lose my mind if I track flour all throughout the house all night. Can you watch the ovens?”

“I’ve got this,” I confirm, nodding. “And don’t worry, Katya. Any flour being tracked through the house will be because of the boys. Our housekeeper works while they sleep to reset the damage they’ve done during the day.”

“We have a housekeeper?” she asks, eyes widening in what looks like relief and possibly glee.

My eyebrows raise up, and I try not to laugh at her reaction. “Not a big fan of cleaning, are you?”

She nibbles on her bottom lip and shakes her head. “I don’t mind it so much, but if tonight is any indication…”

“We have a housekeeper,” I answer her question straight on this time, chuckling under my breath. “Her name is Rosie and she’s here five days a week. She’s one of my soldier’s mothers, and she’s been with me since Bastian was born. You likely won’t see her often, because she’s quiet as a mouse, but when you wake up to a sparkling clean house, she’s who’s responsible for it.”

“A phantom who cleans while I sleep? Is she an angel?”

“I’ll tell her you asked that, she’ll think you’re sweet.”

I think you’re sweet.

I think I want to kiss you again and see if you still taste sweet.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Katya

The fun and whimsy of yesterday is quickly overshadowed by a more serious responsibility.

Leon has to spend a few hours out of the house on only my second day of being moved in. He got a call after we put the kids to bed last night and it’s become clear that his time being able to stay at home for such a long stretch has truly come to an end. He looked gutted when he told me the news, and offered to call one of his siblings to come by and help me with the first day alone if I needed him to.

I, being the ambitious and hopeful sort, refused outright. I wasn’t worried about being alone with Bastian and Leo, especially only for a few hours. Not to mention, our original deal made it seem like this is why he married me, didn’t it? I’m meant to be here to be a nanny, if not a close family member who cares for them. If I’m too scared to watch them alone for less than half a day, then I’m not meant to be taking on this role.

Since I had a heads up for Leon’s plans for the day, I was able to prepare myself. I made sure to go to bed at a reasonable hour, and woke up early with ease because of it. Knowing Leon would already have left the house at the crack of dawn, I made sure to check on Bastian and Leo before even changing out of my pajamas.

The boys were still fast asleep, and the three in-home guards who came on duty when Leon left seemed more than competent during our short meeting. The house is always guarded of course, but mostly from the outside unless their Underboss has to leave his family alone, at least, that’s what he’s told me.

I take the extra time afforded to me to get ready and dressed for the day, before heading downstairs to make a small chai and some breakfast. Leon informed me that the boys were perfectly content with having cereal most mornings, but I knew I wanted to be more impressive than that on my first day. Cereal was cold and boring and I wanted the boys to think I’m warm and fun.

Only a half an hour later, I think I’ve accomplished my goal.

“Wow, Kat.” A small voice full of wonder bursts into the kitchen. “You make waffles for us? Bastian lub waffles!”

My heart soars happily as I plate up the last bit of food from the stovetop and turn off the gas burner, spinning around to see two sleepy but smiling faces. Leo is dressed in his pajamas still but wearing socks. One of them is falling off his feet like he pulled them on in a rush to come downstairs. Bastian is in his pajamas as well, but his are much more wrinkle-free and his feet are covered in tiny brown slippers rather than mismatched cotton socks.

“Good morning,” I breathe out, setting the plate down on the island counter between us and rounding it to greet them properly. “Did you both sleep well?”

“I did,” Leo answers first, nodding seriously. “All good dreams.”

“Yes, Katya,” Bastian replies next, sounding tired.

“I’m so glad to hear it.” I nod and look between the two brothers. “Are you hungry? I’ve made us plenty of food.”

“Yes!” Leo says, bouncing on his heels. “You make waffles, right? Bastian favor-it. I telled you.”