"It is the first snow, Snegurochka, I am sorry I was not able to procure everything you needed for your journey before now. It's likely to be a heavy blow, and you will be trapped with us for a while longer."
It was a week since she left the chapel, and she had had no news of the chapel or of Gavril. The starosta had gone to the Saturday and Sunday services, but had offered no information and she could not bring herself to ask. Not even if Gavril seemed well. She had been unable to bring herself to check on him during her night time guard duty.
The nativity had started, and the demands on Gavril's time would become great indeed. It was a very busy time, with special days and feasts and blessings to perform. Would he have proper support?
"Snegurochka?"
"I am sorry, starosta."
"Ah, think nothing of it, wool-gathering is common enough for a woman in your situation. But I am sorry."
"For me having to remain? There is nothing to be done for it. I will remain until the roads open, then I am afraid I will have to depart whether your particular preparations have been made or no."
"I understand, still, it's not such a bad existence with me, is it?"
"No, starosta."
"So serious," he said in his usual jocular tone. It seemed a phrase he used often.
She could not see the snow, as the shutters had been firmly fastened at the first sign of snow, and had not been opened since. There was no reason not to believe the starosta, however. The wind had died down, and the silence left behind was substantial. It seemed that the snow outside muffled the world in silence. She hoped that the heaviness of the snow would not impede her too much when she left that night to perform her duties, such as she could.
"Would you like some tea?" she asked him. "I made a fresh pot."
"You read my mind, Snegurochka. And there is something else I would speak to you of, so please join me."
"Yes, starosta."
Soon she was sitting in her usual spot across from him at the table, both holding their usual cups of evening tea. No, it was not a bad existence. If not for the torment in her heart, it would have been quite soothing. The starosta was a level-headed man, if given to teasing her in ways she did not quite understand.
But the teasing reminded her of Gavril.
But then everything reminded her of Gavril.
"Such a heavy sigh," he commented cheerfully. "Still no progress?"
"No, starosta. I throw myself into the storm, but it keep spitting me back out."
"Well, keep at it, my dear. You do seem the tenacious sort."
"I will try, starosta. But what did you want to speak to me of?"
"There is to be a village gathering!" he announced triumphantly.
She blinked at him.
"You are to join us," he explained. "Perhaps you need to ignore your storm for a while, and this will be a nice distraction."
"I was not meant for…social occasions…"
"Nonsense. Even a serious girl like you needs to have fun now and then, and hanging around an old one like me is not fun. Now don't protest, it's the truth and I know that. It is my very dear wish that you attend."
"What about the snow?"
"Oh, the streets actually in the village will be tramped down by those with the proper carts before then, don't worry about that."
"And…and…"
"No, the Popiy will not be attending. He sent his very distinct refusal. I waited to hear from him, as we had to invite him, before I spoke to you about it."
"I…thank you."
"So you will attend?"
She couldn't help but smile at the hope in the quavering voice.
"I will attend."
"Excellent! To be honest, Snegurochka, we have so many brutish men in the village we need every available pretty lady we can drag there! Now, may I have another cup of this very good tea?"
Laughing, she stood and fetched the teapot.