Seeker of the Crown

by Ruth Lauren

  “Only when I breathe,” I say, and her face relaxes into a smile, though there are tears in her eyes.

  I try to take a deep breath, but I can’t. “Anatol?” I whisper.

  Sasha takes my hand and squeezes my fingers. “He’s fine. Though—”

  “Though he would like to speak to you himself,” comes a voice from beyond the door. “Can I come in?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  Sasha has to repeat it for me. My own voice won’t come out loud enough.

  Anatol pokes his head around the door, and then steps inside. There are cuts and scrapes on his hands and face, but his clothes are fine and spotless again, and his hair has been forced flat. It’s a stark contrast to the last time I saw him.

  I try to pull myself up on the pillows and wince. Then my brain catches up with what happened today. Or was it yesterday?

  I catch Sasha’s other hand with my free one. “Father? Mother?” I look to Anatol. “And what of Queen Ana? Did the pass really close? Did the battle end? The ships … I … Where is everyone?”

  Sasha and Anatol exchange an amused glance, but there’s something else there too.

  “What is it?” I ask, pushing up and then falling back again as pain stabs through my shoulder.

  “Valor!” Sasha fusses over my pillows, frowning down at me. “We’ll answer you, but you have to promise to lie still.”

  She stares at me sternly until I nod, and then she perches on the side of the bed.

  “Father is fine, if busy, working with Queen Ana. He’s been at your side as often as he could while you slept, but right now there’s so much to do. They made an announcement about her being restored to the throne earlier this morning. Since then they’ve been hidden away in the queen’s chambers, talking over matters of state. The first thing the queen did was send word that Mother must be found and should return to the palace immediately.”

  Anatol breaks in, flicking his fine cloak over his shoulder as he steps forward. “The battle was over the very minute you got shot,” he says. “My mother was furious, and the Guard was instantly galvanized. Any stragglers were rounded up, and now they’re all in the cells awaiting sentences. Mother dismissed all of Inessa’s guards, and they’ve fled. Inessa herself—” He leans forward, making sure he has my attention. He does.

  “She’s in the dungeon right now. Under twenty-four-hour guard. You closed the pass, but Mother stationed half the Guard at Tyur’ma anyway, just in case. My mother and your father are making plans to destroy the tunnel from Pyots’k so none of this can ever happen again. No one ever dreamed Queen Lidiya would use it without permission. But maybe she wouldn’t have without Anastasia emboldening her. You saved the country from war, and …” He looks at the curtains and then the carpet, then rubs his hand over his hair. “You saved my life. Thank you.”

  I smile. His hair is sticking up. “Well, I could hardly let anyone else aim a weapon at Prince Anatol of Demidova, could I?”

  He grins back. “Of course not. That’s your job.” His grin fades. I know the look on his face. I’ve seen it too often since not only his sister but now also his father betrayed their family.

  “Where is … How is your father?” I ask quietly.

  Anatol’s face twists, and I wish I hadn’t asked. Sasha answers quickly for him. “The King is resting in his chambers in the palace. He is not well, but he realizes that his actions were not in the best interests of the country. He will not be appearing during public engagements for the foreseeable future.”

  I have the feeling that the rest of the country will be hearing a very similar, if not quite identical, speech from Queen Ana very soon. Sasha gives me a look, then glances at Anatol and back to me. I nod. We can talk more about it later.

  “What about Anastasia?” I ask.

  There’s a pause. This is what they didn’t want to tell me.

  “The ships sailed,” says Sasha. “There was no one to stop them in the end—the timing was executed to split the Guard and confuse everyone. Anastasia planned for the Pyots’kan army to distract the Guard and for Inessa to hold her position as queen until Anastasia returned from Saylas. She meant to assume the throne of Demidova, help Queen Lidiya conquer Saylas, and then move on Magadanskya with Queen Lidiya’s assistance. I can’t believe her nerve.” Sasha squeezes my hand again.

  Anatol nods at my sister. “She would have gotten away with it if Sasha hadn’t persuaded your father to send some of the Guard to the pass, and you hadn’t thought of blowing the whole thing up.”

  “But she got away,” I say.

  Sasha makes an impatient noise. “Valor, when are you going to realize that you can’t do everything yourself? You almost died. And you still averted what could have been a huge, bloody battle and reduced it to a few dozen soldiers, all of whom have been captured by the Guard. Isn’t that enough for you? Because, let me tell you, it’s enough for everyone else.”

  I open my mouth and then close it. I’m glad about that, glad beyond words. But … Anastasia got away.

  Sasha and Anatol look at each other again. Something isn’t quite right, I can tell. But my head is getting heavy again, and my eyes won’t stay open. I fight through the descending fog.

  “Where are the others?” I ask, a sudden spike of worry dragging me back up from sleep.

  “They’re right here in the palace, and they’re fine,” says Sasha. “Get some more rest, Valor. We’ll bring them to see you later, I promise.”

  I try to nod, reassured, but at the same time I think about Anastasia sailing away on that ship. I should stop. I’ve been shot, and I need to rest, like Sasha said. I keep telling myself that until I slip away again.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Sasha frowns concernedly at me from the mirror. We’re both standing in front of the floor-length gilt frame in the dressing room of my sickroom in the palace. Music floats in through the open window. Outside the palace, the festival of Saint Sergius has resumed—the queen decreed it even though the date has passed. “You’ve done nothing but sleep for two days.”

  “Which is why I should be there,” I say, letting her help me ease a tunic over my head.

  “But this whole banquet is in your honor.” Sasha tugs and smooths the material into place. “Queen Ana said we could delay until you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready now,” I say. “I’ve had enough of lying in bed.”

  She tilts her head and raises her eyebrows. “People do tend to do so when they get shot with arrows, or so I hear. I doubt anyone thought you were shirking your duties.”

  I shake my head. “Queen Ana has resumed all her duties. It’s time I did too. Mother needs me. And as soon as I get this over with—” I bite my lip and watch my eyes widen in the mirror as Sasha gives me a look.

  “Oh, that’s not what I meant. I’m very honored that the queen would … What I mean to say is …”

  Sasha laughs. “I know. I want to get back to my apprenticeship too. But even after today is ‘over with,’ you can hardly ride a horse or hold a bow. Not yet.”

  I shift my head impatiently as she braids my hair.

  There’s a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” I call. It only pulls at my chest a little to raise my voice.

  “It’s us. Me and Feliks,” says Katia from the other room. “Keep still,” she says in a lower voice. “How have you got a mark on this tunic already?”

  I grin at my sister as she finishes my hair, and we both walk back to the other room. Katia looks taller than ever, though maybe it’s because she’s holding herself so stiffly in her new clothes. The deep red tunic suits her pale skin. She smiles, looking nervous and excited then nervous all over again.

  “How are you, Valor? You look well.”

  I haven’t really spoken to either of them for days. I think they’ve been in my room, but I’ve been so tired, and the doctor kept making me drink something that made me lose focus and sleep.

  Feliks bounces on his toes, still drinking in every
detail of the palace. I don’t think he’ll ever get used to it.

  “I’m fine,” I say. “And I’m ready. Let’s go.” I raise my eyebrows at Sasha. “Where’s Nicolai? Didn’t you say he was here too?”

  “He’s been caught up with business at the docks since you went after Queen Ana, but I know he’ll be back as soon as he can.” She puts her hand on my back and ushers all of us out of the room. “Don’t worry about him, Valor—he can take care of himself.”

  I can hear the strains of music coming from downstairs even before we reach the grand staircase that leads down from the mezzanine to the great hall. My stomach rumbles loudly—I can smell roast chicken and butter and ginger and all manner of other food mingled together.

  Someone taps a silver spoon against a crystal glass as I step onto the first stair. It’s Lady Olegevna, her glass raised high in front of her. Surrounding dignitaries follow suit, and soon the whole company is greeting us as I walk down the stairs, flanked by Sasha and Feliks on one side and Katia on the other.

  At the bottom of the stairs, my parents are waiting. I lock eyes with my mother. This is the first time I’ve seen her since she was sent away—judging from her riding gear, she’s only just arrived. Her expression is one of pride mingled with the kind of infuriation that tells me I may be hearing her opinion of my actions very soon and at great length.

  I almost run to her, and to Father, who looks tired and worried but holds tight to Mother’s hand. But I’ve been told I need to stand in position at the bottom of the stairs.

  Queen Ana steps forward, Anatol by her side. Her gown sweeps the floor. I smile as Anatol, under pretext of adjusting his cloak, runs a finger under the high, stiff collar of the same gold-embroidered peacock-blue tunic he wore the day I took aim at him with my crossbow and hit an ice sculpture instead.

  “You are ready, Valor?” asks the queen.

  I nod.

  Two of the Queen’s Guard, their gold sashes a welcome sight, open the wide arched doors of the palace, and a buzz of excited noise washes in from the crowd outside. The queen leads the way out into the palace gardens. Beyond the golden gates, trestle tables have been set up in the square, line upon long line. Each of them is laden with food, and the benches on either side are crammed with people.

  At the sight of the queen, they all stand. Katia grips my hand as we walk the length of the garden, out through the gates and toward the stone fountain with its great jets of water. As we step up onto the rim behind Lady Olegevna, I see Feliks sticking to Sasha’s side, his fingers pinching her sleeve hard enough to bleach the color out of them.

  The queen starts her speech, thanking Lady Olegevna for Magadanskya’s continued support, assuring everyone present that the pass between Demidova and Pyots’k is now impassable but still heavily guarded. There’s talk about the possibility of a threat from Saylas once Anastasia and the Pyots’kan forces reach their shores, but the queen brings her words back around to the pass and how it was closed. She doesn’t speak of what she tasked me with in our meeting under the fountain, doesn’t tell everyone even a tenth of what has happened. I hear my father’s hand in the words she uses and the ways in which she strings them into ideas.

  I listen, but it’s hard to concentrate on anything when wafts of hot gravy and soft bread keep spilling from the banquet hall. But when the queen starts talking about Feliks and Katia, I wrench my attention back. This is the part I want to hear.

  “Katia Feodora and Feliks Petrov, will you please step forward?”

  Katia takes a deep breath and releases my hand. Anatol tries not to grin in a manner unbecoming to a prince and fails. Sasha practically peels Feliks’s fingers off her arm. She gives him a little shove, and he joins Katia beside the queen.

  “For their part in my rescue, and for their service to their country, I hereby confer upon Katia Feodora and Feliks Petrov full pardons. They are now, and from this day forward, free citizens of Demidova.”

  At that, Katia takes in a little breath that I think might be a sob.

  A great roar goes up from the crowd, and Feliks looks up at Katia with such wonder on his face that I know exactly how Sasha feels when I hear her sniffle.

  The queen bids everyone to enjoy the feast, but the people are still standing and cheering as she steps down from the fountain and leads the procession back into the palace. Father is at her side, still holding Mother’s hand, so Sasha and I wait for Feliks and Katia, who are the last to step down. Feliks gives a wary look at the guards who flank them as though he still can’t believe they’re escorting him and not arresting him. Katia’s face is flushed vivid pink.

  “All those Demidovans cheering for a Pyots’kan girl,” she says when she reaches us.

  “A brave, good Pyots’kan girl who’s not afraid to do the right thing, even if it’s hard,” I say. Her face crumples and I hug her, then feel Sasha’s arms go around me too.

  When we step back into the palace, everyone chimes their glasses. I wish I had one, but then I wonder whether I might break it if I did, because I’m squeezing Feliks’s and Katia’s hands hard enough that it almost hurts. Sasha has hold of Feliks’s other hand too, so we’re linked in a line.

  Queen Ana smiles. “Let us take our seats.”

  I walk perhaps a little faster than I should toward the food, and end up level with the queen, close enough to hear her say to Lady Olegevna, “Of course we’re already doing everything in our power to find out what happened at the docks. But the good news is that, thanks to Valor Raisayevna and her friends, our power is quite considerable, and we intend to keep it that way.”

  I find my name card, with its elegant looping script. Sasha’s name is next to mine, and my heart leaps when I see Mother’s name on my other side. I look for her, but she’s showing Feliks and Katia to their places at the table and seems very interested in everything Feliks has to say.

  The gathered crowd raises their glasses again and waits as Sasha slips into her place. Anatol sits on his mother’s right-hand side, Lady Olegevna and my father at her left. Katia and Feliks still look somewhere between shocked and delighted.

  The queen seats herself, and so does my mother, who takes my hand immediately.

  Sasha leans in to my side. “Valor, this is all for us—for you.”

  The guests chime on their glasses. Tureens of shining glazed vegetables fill the table between crystal goblets and plates stacked with fresh bread. Steaming dishes of herb-infused meat swimming in rich gravy are placed before us all at the same time, and the serving staff takes a step back.

  “To Valor!” calls Queen Ana.

  “To Valor!” echo the seated courtiers lining both sides of the great table.

  Mother leans in to my other side, and both she and Sasha put their arms around me.

  I raise my glass toward my friends, toward their loyalty and their bravery and their new freedom.

  “To Feliks and Katia,” I say.

  Katia’s cheeks flush, and her eyes are riveted to the table until Feliks whispers something that makes her smile. His own grin shines bright as sunlight as he raises his glass to me. Katia lifts her eyes and looks around at all the nobles and advisers with their glasses aloft—at the Queen of Demidova toasting a village girl from Pyots’k. Her gaze lands on me, and her fingers venture forward to clasp her own glass.

  Anatol is the first to echo my toast, catching my eye and giving me a slow nod of thanks as the whole table repeats his words. I return the nod, and it says more than any fancy speech could say.

  My heart is as full as the fountain in the square outside, and when my mother holds my hand and Sasha rests her head on my shoulder, it overflows.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As ever I am so grateful to my excellent agent, Andrea Somberg, and to my brilliant editor, Hali Baumstein, whose notes are as kind as they are insightful.

  To my longtime friend and critique partner, Michelle Krys, who is always there to read and reread and who is also available for opinions on wedding attire, life-c
hanging decisions, and brands of foundation.

  Thanks to the wonderful team at Bloomsbury US: Sally Morgridge, Oona Patrick, Ben Holmes, Noella James, Jeanette Levy, and Donna Mark (for design but also the fantastic title!), and Lizzy Mason, Anna Bernard, Erica Barmash, Emily Ritter, and Beth Eller in publicity and marketing. Thanks to Torstein Nordstrand for another stunning cover illustration.

  Many thanks also to the equally lovely and supportive team at Bloomsbury UK: Vicky Leech, Zoe Griffiths, Katrina Northern, Emily Marples, and Lucy Mackay-Sim. Thanks to Laura Tolton, whose beautiful art graces the cover of the UK version of the book.

  To Dave, you’re the very best and I love you. And to my kids, who have my whole heart.

  Copyright © 2018 by Ruth Lauren

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  First published in the United States of America in April 2018 by Bloomsbury Children’s Books

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Lauren, Ruth, author.

  Title: Seeker of the crown : a Prisoner of ice and snow novel / by Ruth Lauren.

  Description: New York : Bloomsbury, 2018.

  Summary: When Princess Anastasia goes missing the queen asks Valor to find and bring her home, and unless she succeeds, Valor and her new friends will be sent back to Tyur’ma prison.