@vclikaya
“-what gave it away?” was the dry remark from the young woman as she sat upright in bed leaning back against the headboard. her knees pulled up to her chest she sat there thinking about her life. thinking about the man in bed beside her. hating herself for thinking he was handsome in his sleep. her mind turning to her sisters and worrying about their futures. would they be married off to bolsheviks they didn’t love too? her mind wandered to her countrymen. what they thought of this strange alliance and how they would have to carry the burden of helping them. that was why this happened. they believed the tsarist rule wasn’t good anymore, but some didn’t believe in the newer order either. a compromise was to be held.
and this was it. so she sat up in bed worrying and thought about all of this. and him. she was bound to him now. a tired sigh sounded as she began to shove the covers off of her knees and moved to climb out of bed. “i’m getting up.”
If Olga was up, Gleb was up. He shoved himself into a sitting position and looked at her, concerned. Did she have nightmares too? He didn’t have them as much anymore, but sometimes, he remembered the battlefields during the Great War and woke up in a cold sweat. He’d heard that Olga had been a field nurse. Surely, she’d seen things. Did they haunt her? Did it haunt her what people did in the name of national pride? What they’d done to keep their country together? He rose from the bed.
“I’ll make you some tea,” he said, too bleary to realize who she was and who he now was; that with a snap of his fingers, he could make demands of staff and servants. Instead he came to the other side of the bed and looked at his wife, the way any man looked at his wife. He brushed a gentle finger down her cheek. “I know how you take it. Just go make yourself comfortable. I’ll sit up with you.”
