Page 61 of Mistaken
“Ah, but the meaning of The Fool is not what you think,” Sofia corrects her, “The Fool signifies innocence, new beginnings, a free spirit. This card introduced into a stuffy, rigid hierarchy can be a very good thing.” She has the nerve to cast her eyes pointedly in my direction. The Seven of Wands is next, and reversed. “You have many obstacles ahead of you, my dear. This card warns of giving up, feeling overwhelmed, and confidence destroyed. You have to prepare yourself to make sure these challenges don’t defeat you by taking away your belief in yourself. And your next card… The Seven of Cups. You are searching for your purpose in your new life. You have choices, even though you may not see them yet.”
I’m watching Ella’s expression as each card is introduced. Her skepticism is fading, and she’s listening carefully to what Sofia is telling her.
“The Magician reversed here means that someone close is watching you with greed, eager to manipulate you. It is someone you want to believe in, but you know - if you’re willing to see it - that they do not have your best interests at heart. It’s important to understand that the past always comes for us. You cannot hide from it.” The psychic’s hands rest on the final two cards, both are still face down and the wrinkles on her elegant face deepen. “These next two, my dear, seem to contradict each other. There are two paths ahead of you. Your decisions affect more than just you.” She turns over the first card. It’s The Hanged Man. “There is a sacrifice ahead. Only you can decide to offer it.”
Ella’s frowning and I put my hand on her thigh, squeezing lightly. “Hasn’t she already offered the sacrifice?” I’m asking a little aggressively, but Sofia is indifferent to it.
“No. It is ahead. But here is your last card, dear. The Sun. In one of the two paths ahead, happiness awaits you. The Sun is a powerful portent, and it can shine a light on the path you’re meant to take.” Ella’s looking up at me with an odd expression, and for the first time, I’m not certain what she’s thinking.
We’re the last two to have their cards read, so Sofia is stuffed with cakes and sweets, and some of the best wine from my cellar. Around two in the morning, she stretches and checks her watch. “It is time to rest. Thank you all for your hospitality.”
Walking her to the door, I help her with her coat and press a thick envelope of rubles into her hand. “Thank you, as always, for spending your time with us tonight.”
Her head is tilted curiously, and she’s watching me with her ebony crow’s eyes. “You have a question, Pakhan?”
“Not for myself…”
“I think you are more attached to your bride than you’re willing to admit,” she’s grinning with a level of impertinence I do not allow, but even my most thunderous scowl doesn’t quell her.
“With this sacrifice you warned her about… does it mean death?” I can barely get the words out. Where is my self-control?You’re weak…the ugly voice of my father slithers through my thoughts.Pathetic. You disgust me.
Sofia is no comfort. “The sacrifice that will be asked of her? Death is quite possible. But trying to keep her from making this choice could destroy you both.” She smiles, shaking her head as she watches me. “Love and union can’t be controlled like you do your empire, Pakhan. One of you can make a choice that could destroy you both. And that warning is meant for you, too.”
I escort her out to one of our cars where the driver is waiting to take her home. “Goodnight, and Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.” She reaches up and pats my cheek gently, I have to fight the urge to snap her fingers for daring such a thing. “You have selected an excellent wife. I have faith that you can change enough to keep making the right choice for you and your little family.”
Little family? My brow creases as I watch the car turn the corner. A little family meaning my wife, and…? I can’t think any longer of what the old witch meant. She loved taunting me, knowing she was one of the very few who could. It meant nothing.
Ella…
January 8th was a gloomy day. Christmas in Russia was glorious, and I was sad it was over. Seriously, it’s the best holiday I’ve had since my parents died.
Maksim was called away from lunch for an important phone call and returned with a face white with fury. Yuri rose instantly and left the room as Maksim leaned over to kiss my cheek. “There’s some urgent business, I must leave, I don’t know when I’ll be back. I know my sisters are seeing friends this afternoon. If that doesn’t interest you, why don’t you call Lucya? She’s been wanting to see you again.”
I nodded, rising to walk with him to the door. “It’s something bad, I’m guessing. Will you two be safe?” My husband never lost his look of rage, but Yuri, at least, gave me a nod and a reassuring smile as they left. Standing alone in that massive hallway where every step echoed on the marble flooring, I decided an afternoon with Lucya was an excellent idea.
“Yeah, he was furious. Whatever it is, it’s not good.”
I took another sip of the excellent mimosa Lucya’s butler served us. I’d teased her about having a butler. A butler! But once we were settled in her wonderfully warm and expansive great room, two mimosas down and one in hand, I felt safe asking some questions about this life. “He got a call, and he and Yuri were out the door in half a second.”
Lucya sighed, “Unfortunately, nothing ever slows down. Christmas? Please! Nothing to these guys.” She made a rude sound and drank half her glass in one swallow.
“I’m so used to seeing Maksim all… urbane, you know? Nothing impacts him enough to actually show emotion. I wouldn’t have known how serious today was until Yuri leaped up and went with him.”
“Your organization - and ours - are always under attack,” she said, “you have to expect that your man will disappear at any time and you may never know why.”
“Alexi doesn’t talk to you about his business doings?” I asked delicately, not sure if I was stepping over some invisible line.
“Sometimes, he has to, if it’s a serious threat to the kids and me. I used to be so angry at him for disappearing without explaining anything, not telling me when he’d be back. Not telling me if he was in danger…” Lucya looked out the window, her beautiful face was so solemn, I could feel the pain the memories caused her. “When I was pregnant with our first child - Konstantin - I nearly lost him from all the stress and the constant terror that Alexi was risking his life; as if our life together meant nothing.”
Smiling at me, she said, “He stood by my hospital bed and cried. That gigantic oaf wept like a baby. He promised me that he would be honest with me, as much as he could.” Rolling her eyes, Lucya, snarled, “And I made him promise to stop taking so many stupid risks. I told him I wouldn’t live the rest of my life as a widow. I told him…” she’s laughing and it makes me laugh, “I told him I would pick up the hottest, youngestSovietnikI could find and make him the new Pakhan. You should have seen his face!”
I’m laughing and also a little horrified. “I… just cannot picture that. Seriously, that’s just too much to contemplate.” Taking another nervous gulp of my drink, I drag together all the bits and pieces of my courage.
“I am so, so sorry that Yana’s life was in danger because of me. I couldn’t imagine… I didn’t even think giving her my scarf would put a target on her, I just…” My little speech cuts off in a weepy gulp. I’m crying and that is the worst way to deliver a sincere apology.
Leaning over, Lucya grabs my hands. “Don’t, Ella. Don’t be. It’s not your fault. You saved my child’s life and I owe you mine in return. A million different reasons could have centered that sniper on her that day. It’s part of our life with these men. But when Alexi and Maksim find out who did this, they will rain down hell upon them, believe me. It’s an old Russian saying, “If someone hits you, hit them back. And keep hitting them until they don’t stand up again.”
