The Frost of Springtime by Rachel L. Demeter Page B

it, stirring the liquid to life. “Mmhm. How could I forget? You, chérie, were always right on
cue. Alas, as soon as Grace would begin—”
    “I’d slip beneath the table—”
    “—and fasten the guest’s shoelaces together. Each and every time,”
Aleksender finished with a sly wink, tipping the wine glass against his lips.
    Sofia felt her cheeks warm as she eyed the sculpted skin of his mouth.
It was lush and full with the slightest hint of a smile. A few beads of wine
clung tantalizingly to the flesh. “I suppose I deserved a proper flogging,” she
admitted, the flush rapidly spreading down her neck. “But you’d never hear of
such a thing—even when Elizabeth insisted otherwise. Why is that?”
    Aleksender lifted his shoulders with a dry shrug. He worried his bottom
lip between his teeth, sucking away the rivulets of wine. “You were happy. Not to
mention adorable. And besides, such antics never harmed anyone.”
    Sofia shrank against her chair with a guilty smile. “Expect for that
one time.”
    “Ah, yes, that one time. Those damnable knaves wouldn’t step foot in
the de Lefèvre chateau ever again.”
    Sofia sipped at her wine. She hid a growing smile behind the stemware.
“Well, how was I supposed to know the knot would be impossible to unfasten, and
that they really couldn’t stand each other’s company? Goodness. How could a
husband and wife loathe each other with so much gusto? Why, I thought binding
them together would force them to kiss and make up!”
    Aleksender chuckled and folded both arms over his chest. “Innocent
little thing, you were. You assumed every match was made purely from love.”
    “Well, it served the old toad right, anyhow. He just wanted to scurry
on back to his mistress.” Sofia smiled once more, her delicate shoulders
rolling with giggles. “Your father got quite a kick out of it. More than once
he caught me red-handed, you know. Oh, I was quite afraid of what he might do,
but he simply lifted the tablecloth and winked at me. He winked, all while his
snobby guests were ready to blow their tops. Can you believe it?”
    Sadness and pleasure crossed Aleksender’s features by turns. Then his
lips lifted into that rare, crooked grin. It was a grin that warmed Sofia’s
insides—a grin she had come to love nine years before. “Indeed, I can,” he
whispered. “Sounds like him.”
    “He was an exceptional man. And I see him in you. I always have.”
    Aleksender swallowed as something remarkable stirred within his chest.
    Sofia absently gazed forward, a nostalgic smile curving her lips. When
she spoke, her voice quavered with emotion and fond memories. “But what I’ll
always remember most is the stars.”
    “The stars?” Aleksender echoed,
transfixed.
    “When I’d wake up from a nightmare, you’d point out the constellations
and tell me each of their stories,” she whispered, locking his eyes. “You
showed me peace, showed me that beauty could be found within darkness. You,
Alek, gave me reason to be happy.”
    “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” Lightening his tone, he cleared
his throat and poured himself another helping of wine. “And I hope that hasn’t
changed. You’re still happy? Still at peace?”
    Sofia nodded, though her eyes subtly flickered in disagreement.
    “And you? Are you happy?” The simple question rendered him speechless.
    “I have my moments.”
    “Such as now? Such
as this moment?”
    He responded with a sharp nod. Then he cleared his throat once more and
nudged the menu aside. “So. Tell me. How is Salle Le
Peletier? I take it things have been faring well?”
    “Yes—” She briefly hesitated. “For the most part things have been quite
well. In fact, I made prima ballerina just last season,” Sofia said as she took
a delicate sip of wine.
    “And you deserve nothing less.” Aleksender’s crooked grin transformed
into a true smile. Romanticized by the surrounding candlelight, the gesture
reeked of sensuality. “In