The Ranger of Marzanna (The Goddess War #1) - Jon Skovron Page 0,34

a book. Even at the supper table, a slim volume of poetry by Gregor Bortniansky lay closed but safely within reach. Irina suspected that such a well-read young woman found her gregarious but vapid mother frustrating, or at the very least mildly embarrassing.

Not that Irina cared much for Inessa, either, of course. But now she smiled fondly at her. “At least we have our sons, dear Ina, and they will never forget us.”

“I do hope so.” Inessa’s carefully painted eyebrows puckered. “It would break my heart if my little Vanya were ever to ignore me.”

Ivan Prozorova was eating with his governess as usual, but Irina had met him and found him to be a jolly, mild-mannered little boy more in keeping with Inessa’s temperament than his older sister.

“I’m certain you have nothing to fear,” Irina assured her.

“A good man will honor his mother not only for her entire life, but his own,” said Vittorio. “Given young Ivan’s privileged upbringing, fine stock, and the shining example of Lord Prozorova, I’m certain he will grow up to be such a man.”

“Is your mother still alive, Commander?” Irina still knew far too little about the Aureumian commander who held so much power over her fate and the fate of her son.

“Alas, no. In fact, I no longer have any family at all.” Vittorio gazed into his goblet with somber eyes for a moment. Then his expression brightened and he looked at each of them in turn, including Galina, as he said, “But that is one reason I am so well suited to this post, an appointment I cherish deeply.”

Irina found it hard to believe Vittorio truly cherished his post. Giovanni had once told her that high-ranking Aureumian officers viewed any appointment to the cold, hard lands of Izmoroz as a punishment. Still, if this was all an act for the benefit of the Izmorozian nobility, it was a flawless one. So Vittorio was either a consummate performer, or merely an unusual officer. Perhaps the latter was more likely, but time would tell either way. Until then, Irina would respond to him as if she had no doubts regarding his earnestness. It was the safest option, given her tenuous position.

Once supper was finished, Inessa stood and curtsied to Vittorio. “Commander, you’ve been so kind to keep us company, especially during my husband’s absence, but I’m sure you must have a great deal of work to attend to.”

“Indeed I do.” The commander rose and bowed.

“My dear Irinushka,” continued Inessa. “What do you think of taking the carriage out for a ride?”

“That sounds wonderful,” said Irina as she also rose from the table.

“Galina, go fetch your cloak and meet us at the stables.”

Galina remained seated, her nose already buried in her book, and only said, “Mmm?”

“Galina!” Inessa said sharply.

“Yes, Mother.” Galina reluctantly closed her book, lurched out of her seat, and hurried off.

“I can see myself out, Lady Prozorova,” said Vittorio.

Inessa nodded as she allowed him to kiss her hand. “I look forward to seeing you again soon, Commander.”

She left the room, heading toward the stables.

Commander Vittorio then turned to Irina and bowed. “Lady Portinari, a pleasure as always.”

As she felt his curling whiskers press against the back of her hand, she realized that except for the servants who hurried to clear the supper table, they were completely alone for the first time.

“Commander…,” she said as if it were an idle thought that had only just occurred to her. “Out of curiosity, what would have happened if my son had not agreed to enlist as an officer in the imperial army?”

He looked up from her hand, and for just a moment, she caught a flash of something dark and seething in his eyes. Then he smiled, and it was gone.

“Let us not speak of unpleasant things that might have been, Lady Portinari. Especially when we have so many years of fruitful cooperation to look forward to.”

Irina forced a warm smile to her lips even as icy dread crept into her heart. “An excellent suggestion, Commander. I look forward to our next meeting with great anticipation.”

Once she had taken leave of Vittorio, Irina made her way out to the stables, where Inessa and Galina waited in a finely painted horse-drawn carriage. As the carriage pulled out into the street and clattered through town, she feigned attention, nodding and occasionally murmuring agreement as Inessa prattled on about various bits of gossip concerning one noble family or another. Not even the bustling early evening activities of Gogoleth captured her