Katerina laughs brightly at D’mitri’s sudden interest in Ivan, taking the younger brother he knew of, but never knew into his arms, although the smile falls into a hard frown when Ivan makes his cool comment. She gives him a bit of a look that softens when he extends his hand, which D’mitri heartily returns. He smiles like a little boy. Katerina bows her head at Ivan’s comment. “Oh but it was so easy, with such a great guest! Oh, and he has been so great, he really has, D’mitri.” She links her arm with D’mitri’s at the elbow, beaming up at him. “You have an amazing brother, you do.” She knows her place against D’mitri is awkward—for the both of them—but they best get used to it now, shouldn’t they? And just as she’s about to tell him so, she realizes something. Something she doesn’t like.
D’mitri’s fixated on Ivan. She’d thought he hasn’t pulled away because he’s finally accepted their marriage—after all, when she had mentioned their wedding he nodded, nodded! Can you believe it?—but now it’s a little more clear: he hasn’t pulled away because he hasn’t noticed, and he hasn’t noticed because he’s not thinking about her. He can’t possibly have forgotten she’s there, could he have? Truly… truly meeting one’s long lost brother is breath taking to be sure, yes, yes, she knows that for sure. But…. But! He hasn’t seen her in almost a month! Almost he’s gone without his bride-to-be, half that time she’d spent it with another man! A good looking man, a smart, charming, well-dressed man, her Striking Ivan. Isn’t he at all concerned? Isn’t he at all curious? D’mitri so certainly finds their match a mismatch, so why is he so… so. So! Katerina pulls away from his arm quickly enough that D’mitri must be sure to feel it. Fine, fine. Let him stand here with a man who hardly wants to call him ‘brother.’ Let him, fine. Fine.
“The sitting room…” she begins evenly, moving away from the two, towards the kitchen. “Why don’t you both retire there? I’ll bring tea. And cookies.” Turning around in the doorway, painted nails gripping the molding with a noticed tightness, “You like the ones with walnuts, don’t you, D’mitri dear?” She says it like that on purpose, hoping it makes the both of them flinch, leaving them to an uncomfortable silence on purpose.