Betrothed to Trouble

Chapter 27 - Ransom My Heart

            “No! Sergei, keep Zefir off the picnic basket!” I squealed, trying to save the last of the jam tarts.

            Sergei laughed, but affectionately pulled at Zefir’s tail to get her attention. She whined unhappily but then wandered off to join Hamlet. After a week of nursing and regular feeding, Hamlet had regained his strength and was now able to walk on his own. Much to Father’s bemusement, he had taken to following either me or Zefir, bless her, around the castle.

            “Don’t you feed her back home?” I teased Sergei, as I rearranged the tarts on the plates. It was a warm, sunny morning and the two of us had gone for a ride to the lake to have a picnic to enjoy the rare weather.

            “You are the one who spoiled her with all the macaroons and sweets,” Sergei scowled, and nicked one for himself. “We have a strict rule back home to not feed her anything outside mealtimes,”

            “Queen Marie’s dog eats everything she eats, even the caviar, I think,” I shuddered at the thought. “Do you miss home?” I added as an afterthought, suddenly struck by the realization that he never voiced anything concerning that particular subject.

            “How irresponsible,” Sergei drawled lazily, leaning back to lie on the blanket to bask in the sun and ignoring my question.

            I eyed his prone from critically, hating how the morning sun made him glow like a golden statue. “I hate it when you drawl like that,” I commented, making two cups of tea, and also hating the fact that remembered how he took his tea; his with 3 sugars and mine with 4 sugars with a dash of milk.

            “I know, it drives my Mother insane too,” he chuckled, reaching out for his tea without even opening his eyes. Yes, I hate how we even seem to start coordinating our movements around each other.

            I eyed Hamlet who was approaching Storm with trepidation. “Do you think Storm would kick Hamlet?” I asked worriedly as I sipped my tea.

            “Relax, you sound like his mother,” he opened his eyes to roll them at me.

            “Well, I am sort of his foster mother,” I pouted at him, watching in horror as Zefir joined Hamlet in his mission of bothering Storm.

            “You’d be a great mother, don’t worry,” he flashed a grin at me, sitting up to rummage in the picnic basket for his book.

            “Are you still reading that?” I grumbled as I watched him carefully thumb open his marked page. He’s been reading that for an entire week, and I didn’t even last an hour. It was dreadfully boring.

            “Yes, I thought you are too?” he eyed me quizzically.