nails against chalk board. Please, please. Turn off."
"What's wrong with rap music?" Anatoly laughed. His father was visibly in pain. The music stopped.
"What isn't?" Dmitry ran his fingers over the side consul and let down the window to breathe. Wheezy had almost given him a heart attack. "Save for when I'm not in car, eh ."
* * *
Brigitte knocked on Mistress Medlov's door several time before she entered. Oddly enough there was no answer. She came through the double doors with her back to the bed as she pulled in the tray of breakfast food.
However, when she turned around, she realized that she was alone in the room. She looked around curiously. In the last year, she had not come into the room one morning that the Mistress was not in bed, knotted in sheets with a glass of scotch on her nightstand.
"Mistress Medlov?" Brigitte called.
She looked in the large bathroom, in Dmitry's closet, in both of Royal's closets and in the sitting room connected to the bedroom and found no one there. It was not her place to fetch her, but she felt the sudden urge to turn and run out of the room calling after Davyd.
* * *
Royal was still wrapped in the covers that smelled like her husband in the guest room where Dmitry had left her. She slept heavily, uninterrupted by nightmares and with a slight grin on her face.
Davyd looked in on her just to make sure that she was okay. After Brigitte had come into the great room sweaty and wide-eyed, he had no choice. Evidently, the poor girl had run all the way from the Mistress's bedroom on the second floor to the great room on the first floor. Thousands upon thousands of concrete and marble feet were in between the two locations.
Davyd was nearly as worried if not more worried when Brigitte explained Royal's absence from her room. Running to the security office, he rewound video from the night before and saw her go into bedroom with her husband after she left Anatoly's room. A feeling of relief for several reasons overcame him. Still he felt the need to check in on her.
Royal slept until noon. When she finally woke up from her peaceful slumber, for the first time in over a year, she was not sweaty, was not hung over and was not angry.
Mouth dry, she pulled the covers from her body and made her way to the bathroom. She couldn't help but smile at her reflection in the mirror. It was not because she thought she was anymore beautiful, but because she could still smell her husband on her skin. She could still hear the soft beautiful words he had whispered in her ear the night before. She held herself tight and took a deep breath. She had promised to do better and be better. And she would keep her promise.
* * *
Victoria had the day off and planned to spend her Saturday out in the city of Prague finding a way to let her hair down.
Being prim and proper every single day with no release had gotten really old and being holed up in the Medlov's chateau only made her more anxious for some excitement. She almost understood why the mistress was such a pain.
At first, she had planned on spending the day in the courtyard only a few feet from Dmitry's study playing with Anya and in his view, waiting for the moment when his daughter would draw him out to talk to them. But when she found out that he had hopped a helicopter out of happy town, she had no need to spend unneeded hours playing with his overly-smart three-year old.
The city of Prague was alive today. After lunch at Dmitry's posh Russian restaurant, she headed down on the cobblestone streets of Prague 1 to visit Royal Flush.
As soon as Victoria entered the swank boutique, she heard John Mayer's Heartbreak Warfare and smelled expensive perfumes floating through the air. The entire shop was painted in a warm royal blue with silver and gold mirrors and pictures of different cities and designers on the wall. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling above a large circular blue velvet chaise lounge and illuminated the room with