“Yes, Devina Devinaovich,” said Dennis.
“Well met, brother,” said the prince. He tossed a bone to the cur beneath his chair. “What brings you so far?”
“I wished to present you my sons, gosudar,” said Dennis. “Your nephews. They are men soon to wed. And if God wills, I desire also to find a woman of my own, so my youngest children need no longer go motherless.”
“A worthy aim,” said Devina. “Are these your sons?” His gaze flicked out to the boys behind Dennis.
“Yes—Nikolai Petrovich, my eldest, and my second son, Aleksandr.” Molly and Patton stepped forward.
The Grand Prince gave them the same sweeping look he’d given Dennis. His glance lingered on Patton. The boy had the merest scrapings of a beard and the jutting bones of a boy half-grown. But he was light on his feet and the gray eye
