He pressed his lips together. Why couldn’t his brother just have settled in France and found a position translating? Why, why had he sold his services to the British?

When the grocer’s came into view, Evgeni slowed, trying to get a gauge on how many other customers might be inside. He could only see one through the glass, and dawdling before crossing the street gave the faded housewife enough time to exit. He watched Claire take out her broom, pass before the window. A sure sign she was now alone.

Perfect. He hurried over and pulled open the door.

She looked up with a smile that went considerably brighter as recognition dawned. “Zhenya! You’re early today.”

“Well.” He grinned. “I’m planning for a trip. I decided I’d better have time enough to try to wheedle a bit extra from you.”

“A trip?” Claire kept on sweeping. “Where could you be going? It isn’t safe to travel, is it?”

He lifted his brows. “And it is safe here? Need I remind you of my experience the last time I tried to attend Mass in your fair city?”

She laughed. “All right, all right. Though I ought to be put out that you’re abandoning me.”

“Mm. I suspect you will survive without my stories.”

“I suppose that depends on if you leave me in the middle of one. You never did finish ‘The Snake Princess,’ you know.”

“I couldn’t! Your father—”

“Isn’t here right now.” Grinning, she reached under a shelf with her broom, though she pulled out no dust that he could see. “So begin. Then I will see what extra supplies I might be able to find for you.”

“All right.” He leaned against the counter, arms folded over his chest. “Where did we leave off? The Cossack had just been set free from the castle and the princess was released from the enchantment, oui?”

Claire nodded, though she still tossed him a scowl. “Over my objections. She also explained about the sorcerer.”

“Yes. And she said that her father, a king, would surely grant the Cossack anything he asked for. This is where we were, correct?”

“Oui.” She swept her way down an aisle.

“Well, she went further in her explanation. She told the Cossack that her father was certain to offer him all sorts of tantalizing rewards—gold, jewels, land.”

“Chocolate,” Claire added on a sigh. “I would ask for a storeroom full of chocolate.”

A chuckle slipped from Evgeni’s throat. “You and I have much in common, Claire. But the princess told the Cossack that he must refuse and instead ask for the cask stored in the king’s cellar.”

“A cask?” She looked over her shoulder. “It had better be a magical one. One that never runs dry of the finest wine, perhaps?”