Morok

Chapter IX. Szarlotka

Kazimierz sat at the doctor's table, quiet and expressionless, his green eyes following Gorenski with abstract calculation. While Gorenski's affinity for desserts was never a secret, the rare occasions when he prepared savoury dishes made Kazimierz uncomfortable. Gorenski knew Kazimierz did his best to pretend he disliked Gorenski's cooking, but his poor acting never fooled anyone, let alone the doctor.

Retreating to the kitchen, Gorenski checked the steaming duck blood soup, czarnina, Anna's favourite delicacy. Lifting the pot's lid, he sniffed the dish. The scent of baked apples and cinnamon from the oven overlapped with the sour notes from the pot, producing an unexpected combination. Sour sweetness, warm and tantalizing.

Dressed impeccably even in his kitchen, Gorenski moved from the table to the sink with deliberate slowness as if expecting his enemy to watch. But the alien presence was no longer there. He had not cut the Shadow enough to incapacitate. And yet, it might have been enough to shatter their confidence. Perhaps a person clever enough to see through Gorenski's lies and secrets never existed. Or perhaps Gorenski had to wait a little longer.

When Anna arrived, Gorenski took her coat and greeted her with restrained politeness.

"You are right on time. The soup should be ready."

"It has been my impression that you prefer desserts to soups and roasts." Despite her deadpan delivery, Anna's eyebrows twitched in surprise.

"I made an exception for you, my dear aunt."

She could have replied had Kazimierz not dashed out of the room to bow deeply before her.

"Your Highness." As expected, he almost fell to his knees, exalted adoration burning in his eyes. "Princess Radziwill."

"Count Broniec." She nodded but did not curtsy. Anna was aware of the changing times and morals, while Kazimierz clung to the part.

"Kazimierz has missed you dearly," Gorenski said, meeting his secretary's glare.

"And have you?" Anna shot him a speculative look.

If she asked him a question, a trap lay behind it, and Gorenski had always been careful when giving his answers.

"I certainly have. Your arrival has stirred an upheaval I have not experienced in a long while."

Kazimierz paled, his hand reaching his forehead. "You killed someone again. You must have."

As always, Gorenski remained calm. "Our previous guests have abused my hospitality and questioned Anna's allegiances. I found their interference most unpleasant."

Anna frowned as Gorenski invited her to proceed into the dining room. "You killed them not because of me but because you hate the Russian police and Secret Services."

"Don't we all?"

"I prefer to avoid them, not to confront them," Anna said, taking her seat. "You and Kazimierz may need to be more diplomatic."

"Certainly. I will heed your advice once the opportunity arises, dear Anna."

Gorenski returned to the kitchen, checked the chicken stew in the frying pan, removed czarnina from the fire, and proceeded into the dining room. As always, he served his guests food with swift skill, allowing them to enjoy the smell before tasting the dish.

Since silence never bothered him, Gorenski only broke it when necessary. And now was not the time. The three of them had known each other for centuries. They certainly could enjoy a meal together once in a while.

Picking up a piece of juicy duck breast with his spoon, Kazimierz murmured under his breath.

"At least you did not kill anyone to make the soup, Doctor."