“They’re wonderful!” I said. “They’re all coming ripe.”
“All the better to turn you into a tree,” he said.
“I don’t want to be a tree yet,” I said. Happiness was bubbling up through me, a bright stream laughing. He’d come back. “When did you arrive?”
“This afternoon,” he said stiffly. “I came to receive the taxes, of course.”
“Of course,” I said. I was sure he’d even gone to Olshanka for the tribute first, just so he could pretend that was the truth for a little bit longer. But I couldn’t really bring myself to pretend with him, not even long enough for him to get used to the idea; my mouth was already turning up at the corners without my willing it to. He flushed and looked away; but that wasn’t any better for him, since everyone else was watching us with enormous interest, too drunk on beer and dancing to be polite. He looked back at me instead, and scowled at my smile.
“Come and meet my mother,” I said. I reached out and took his hand.