There are attention-grabbing little tartlets and I taste some when offered, and there’s a ton of pretty embroidered pillows and throws. I wonder whether to buy some for my aging father who’d probably appreciate it. Pursing my lips, I reconsider it when I from the corner of my eye notice some kind of amulets and emblems.
I look closer because I’ve never seen anything like it. They’re poorly made for one but they seem to be representing a man with dark, violent looks. I shudder, thinking to myself who the heck would want to buy those.
“Aha...,” the belly heavy man behind the counter says and he twirls his bristly, brown moustache. “A beautiful girl admiring our handsome tsar?” He takes down one of the objects. “May I tempt you with an amulet for your pretty little neck? The tsar will keep any unwanted suitors at bay.”
I stare at him dumbfounded. Not only because I don’t have any suitors but because Karthusia doesn’t have a tsar.
“I’m good,” I murmur, walking off and he throws me a disappointed glance before getting grumpy and directing his attention to other customers. Turning around, I gasp when I notice my suitcase’s gone. “My suitcase!” I shout, looking around in every direction. “Has anyone seen my suitcase?”
People shake their heads and there’s the sound of child laughter in the distance. Dammit, those kids! And now I don’t have my clothes anymore. Or my idiotic passport that I idiotically put in my suitcase after getting off the plane!
Damn!
At least I still have my wallet in my coat but it’s a poor comfort. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I walk around now in a bad mood and it probably shows that I’m sulking because a woman behind a booth, shouts,
“Turn that frown upside down before you grow jowls, Tsarina.”
She knows my name and I swiftly turn my head around. “Katinka!” I cry out, pleasantly surprised because she’s my old neighbor. “It’s so good to see you.” Running over, I wrap her in for a hug and grimace when she pinches my arms and legs to see if I’ve gained weight.
Apparently I don’t pass, because she grunts. “Definitely a bit too round for Karthusian men.” She pats my cheeks, “But it’s good to see you too.” Then her eyes flare with concern. “What are you doing back here?”
Isn’t that a warm welcome...
“Just missed this place,” I say with a smile, “wanted to see if it was like I remembered. And it is.” Then I add, “And I missed my people.”
“Including a certain old friend?” Katinka says with a displeased grimace and I raise my brows in question, before practically getting tackled by Katinka’s friend Petrushia.
“You!” Petrushia cries. “How dare you come back?”
I stare at the old woman in shock, the shock only growing when she lands a slap on my face and I back, hugging my cheek. What the hell is going on?
“Petrushia, enough!” Katinka says, pulling her friend away from me and they both pant. “Forgive her, Tsarina. She’s just emotional.”
But she’s not just emotional. Petrushia’s whole face is twisted with fury and she’s shaking. “What you did to that poor boy.” She points at me with a trembling finger. “Unforgivable!” She spits on the ground. “Unforgivable!”
“Shush now, my Petrushia,” Katinka soothes and hands her friend a glass of cider to calm down. “Our Tsarina couldn’t have known and in the end everything turned out alright.”
Putting my hands on my hips, I demand to know, “What are you talking about? What boy?” I flare out with my hands in question. “Balthazar?”
“He’s not called Balthazar anymore,” Petrushia spits before a look of veneration flashes her face. “Now he goes under the name Tsar.”
My lips twitch. “Huh?”
Sighing, Katinka patiently explains, “After you left the country our Balthazar began acting strange. He grew moody, angry and violent. As the years passed, his rage only grew and grew until eventually he became strong enough to turn against our enemies.”
“The guerilla,” Petrushia whispers with veneration before snatching the amulet of the “Tsar” that she’s wearing around the neck and she kisses it.
“And then the day came, when our Balthazar used all the strength and pent up wrath to defeat them. One by one they fell by his feet and he rose, like darkness itself on top of a pile of their bodies...”
She trails off with the dramatic story while I stare at them, thinking they must be either joking or I’ve entered another dimension. “Balthazar?MyBalthazar defeated the whole guerilla all on his own?”
They both nod in admiration, scowling when I burst into laughter. And I can’t stop, folding over when I can’t stand upright anymore.
“Show some respect,” Petrushia curses. “It means bad luck to not revere our Tsar.”
Oh heck, I can’t take this anymore. Someone must’ve been something in Karthusia’s water because this is just outlandish. Still laughing, I shake my head. “I’m sorry...,” I wipe some tears from the corners of my eyes, “this is just too funny. I haven’t laughed this much in ages.”
The women impatiently wait for me to stop and I do when I notice they’re not amused. Apparently they really believe what they’re saying. I turn serious, “Ladies, it’s been fun talking to you and we’ll have to catch up some more but now I better go and find a hotel I can stay at.”