by E. P. Clark
He went over and stood next to Ivan, the two men making a little group slightly off to the side, and I could see that he was taller than Ivan, but more slender, like a fine blade. Despite his curly hair everything about him seemed a little sharp, and even from across the room I could tell that he was clever. Next to him Ivan seemed…plain, almost, or pallid. Or solid, some part of my mind whispered to me. Look at the set of those shoulders: he might surprise you. And his face is the face of a faithful man, even if he doesn’t know that about himself yet. Don’t cast him aside just yet, because he won’t cast you aside. Suddenly I knew, as all the bits and pieces that I had come to know in the past few days formed themselves into a new whole, that Ivan was the kind of person who, even when he seemed quiet and untroubled on the outside, felt deeply on the inside, and that if I were ever to win his heart in truth, I would have to be very careful not to bruise it, as it would not recover quickly from harsh usage. Of course, given that I had spent nearly a third of my life pining over a single summer romance, the same could be said about me—but that was nobody’s problem but mine. It was up to me to look out for my own heart, and the only way I would find the strength to do so would be if I were looking out for somebody else’s heart as well. I was so busy contemplating this sudden realization that I was startled by the entrance of Alzhbetka Arinovna.
She arrived just in time to avoid any actual accusations of lateness, but was still most definitely the last to enter the room, something she seemed well aware of, and which made her raise her chin even higher than its natural angle, which, because she was not a tall woman, was pretty high already. Her father, if I remembered rightly, was from the Brnsko region, which was right on the edge of Zem’, practically in the West, and it could be seen not only in Alzhbetka’s funny name, but in her flaxen-blonde hair, her pale, pale, skin, and her fine features. Compared with the rest of us she looked fragile, like she might snap in two, but I knew that was not the case. Through the female line she was a Pristanogradskaya, and the Pristanogradskiye were made of stern stuff indeed. They had to be, to have held onto Pristanogradskoye after the Zerkalitsy left it for Krasnograd. She cut me a single glance and then pointedly looked away. I resisted the urge to sigh, or possibly go over and give her a good slap. Another person, a nondescript woman of middle years, slipped in through the door and took up a position by the wall where she could see all of us.
“Your caution does you credit, Alzhbetka Arinovna, but I assure you, you have no need for a bodyguard here,” I said.
The bodyguard focused all her attention on me and made a movement as if surreptitiously reaching for whatever weapon she had hidden away. Alzhbetka gave me a look of such disdain and dislike that only the very young can produce.
“I know how your mother cares for your safety, Alzhbetka,” interjected Sera, before Alzhbetka could say anything unwise. “Valeriya Dariyevna is right; there is nothing to threaten your safety here, but I wouldn’t dream of sending away such a devoted servant. Please, be at ease, and,” she turned to address the others as well, “I thank you all for answering my summons.”
There was a flurry of bowing and assurances that everyone was delighted to serve the Tsarina in any way they could, which Sera calmed with a gentle movement of her hand. Alzhbetka’s bodyguard continued to watch me, but Alzhbetka’s attention had been claimed by Ivan and Amiran, who were standing across the room from her.
Good to know, I thought, and told myself I would have to keep an eye on that situation. I had expected that Alzhbetka would cause me problems because of her family’s relationship with mine, and her own attitude towards me, but I hadn’t thought of the problems that could arise from the mixture of a young woman of noble birth still in the first flowering of her desire, and two handsome young men in need of making a marriage match. I wondered if I could persuade Alzhbetka’s bodyguard to help me keep control of the situation. The last thing we needed was for Alzhbetka to seduce one of the men and then abandon them, or worse yet, demand marriage…unless it is Amiran. Perhaps that could be a useful alliance.
“As you know,” Sera said, once everyone was ready to start listening to her, “there have been reports that children, Zemnian children, are being taken and sold as slaves to the Hordes. My dear sister, Valeriya Dariyevna, who has been instrumental in bringing these reports back to Krasnograd”—I bowed—“has graciously deigned to lead a party East to look into these reports and, we may hope, end this vile practice, should the rumors prove to be true. Aksinya Olgovna, who is sister to Princess Velikogornaya, and Ivan Marinovich, only son to Princess Velikokrasnova, have also graciously agreed to join her party. And now we would like to invite you, dear Amiran Gulisovich and esteemed Alzhbetka Arinovna, in light of the position of your mothers’ families and your own excellent qualities, to make up the last members of this expedition.”
Amiran grinned and cried out, “With pleasure, Tsarina!” Alzhbetka gave both of us a sharp look. “Have you already spoken with our mothers about this, then, Tsarina?” she asked.
“There has not, unfortunately, been time to contact them, but I am sure, given the long ties between our families, and the fealty they owe Krasnograd, that they would not hesitate in giving their assent,” said Sera smoothly. “Besides, you are both of age and can choose as you will in this matter.”
“I can, perhaps, gracious Tsarina, but Amiran…”
“Is also of age,” interjected Sera. “As of two summers ago, is that not correct, Amiran?”
“It is, gracious Tsarina,” he said, bowing. “And,” he flashed Alzhbetka a grin, “in the South even our sons do not need to beg a mother’s permission to go off on a worthy cause.”
Alzhbetka stiffened and flared her nostrils. I thought the bodyguard almost smiled to herself, off against the wall. Clearly Amiran and Alzhbetka would be good for each other.
“So you are resolved to go, then?” Sera asked Amiran. “We are delighted.”
“It will be an honor, gracious Tsarina, and esteemed Valeriya Dariyevna,” he said, bowing at both of us. “In the South we have also had our troubles with this vile trade, and we would welcome any chance to smash it.”
“I see,” said Sera, looking at him thoughtfully. “We should speak of this more later, dear Amiran.”
“I am at your service, gracious Tsarina,” he said with another bow, and then added, seriously, like someone who had been raised to rule, “Indeed, Tsarina, we in the Southern mountains would welcome Krasnograd’s interest in this matter.”
“And you shall have it,” Sera promised him. “As shall the rest of our land. It seems this…rot has spread farther than any of us had ever dreamed. Everywhere I turn, I find another stain of corruption.”
“Indeed, Tsarina,” said Amiran soberly.
“And what of the coast?” Sera asked Alzhbetka. “Do you also come bearing such rumors, Alzhbetka Arinovna?”
“It will be an honor to serve in this matter, gracious Tsarina,” said Alzhbetka stiffly. “But this taint…this injustice—I have heard nothing of it infecting the coastal provinces.”
“I see,” said Sera. Alzhbetka bristled at the skepticism in her words, but had the good sense not to argue.
“So you are all resolved to join us?” I asked, speaking up before things got too awkward.
Everyone nodded with greater or lesser degrees of enthusiasm.
“Excellent,” I said briskly. “This means the steppe, both sets of mountains, the black earth district, and the coast will all be represented when we discover…whatever it is we will discover. It is currently high summer. The Tsarina has tasked me to be back before winter. I intend to set off the day after Midsummer; that is, the day after tomorrow. Does anyone have any objections?”
“So soon!” cried Alzhbetka. “How are we possibly to be ready?!”
“This is Krasnograd, my dear,” said Sera. “We are always ready to mount an expedition or a fighting force, should it be necessary.”
Alzhbetka’s pale face darkened. “While our graci
ous Tsarina is indeed correct, Alzhbetka Arinovna has raised a valid point,” I said quickly. I could see that Sera had already taken a dislike to Alzhbetka, even though she had been the one to suggest her, and that it would fall on me, amusingly enough, to act as peacemaker. And while Alzhbetka had earned Sera’s condescending reply, I knew that young women like her had a very limited tolerance for that sort of thing, and I would need to stand between her and the teasing she was certain to bring upon herself. Besides, I was starting to develop a perverse liking for her. Probably because she reminded me of myself at that age. Or my current age. We arrogant women needed to stick together, since we were sure to drive everyone else away.
“Due to the urgent nature of our task, and the need to accomplish as much as we can before winter sets in, our time for preparation is much less than ideal,” I went on. “But as the Tsarina pointed out, we can still do it.” Something made me glance in Sera’s direction. She had suddenly started to droop on the throne. I doubted anyone else had noticed it, but to me it was a clear signal that she was spent for the day.
“Perhaps, if the Tsarina will permit it, we can continue our discussion elsewhere,” I said. “I am sure we have no need to bother her with the details of our preparations.”
“As you wish, sister,” said Sera. She smiled at me tiredly, and I knew that she had guessed the reason for my suggestion, which ordinarily would have offended her, but at the moment she was too weak to feel anything but gratitude. “Oh, but one more thing,” she said, straightening herself up against the back of her seat. “I believe you said you would need a mistress of horse? Have you chosen anyone?”
“With your permission, Tsarina, I would like to bring Kseniya Avdotyevna.”
“The under-mistress of my stables?”
“The very one,” I said with a bow. “With your permission, of course, Tsarina. At first I thought of bringing one of my own people, but then I thought it would be better if they stayed behind to watch over…my family’s interests here. Taking your own mistress of horse is clearly impossible. But then Kseniya Avdotyevna came to mind. She is an experienced horsewoman, but still young enough not to find the ardors of the journey too taxing. And frankly…”
“Yes, Valya?” asked Sera. I must have piqued her curiosity, for she even found the strength to cock an eyebrow at me.
“Frankly I think she’s bored,” I said. “Bored with Krasnograd and the thought of spending all her days here. A good journey will be just what she needs, and the memory of it might keep her from leaving your service in a few years’ time. Let her slake her wanderlust now, and not when you will need her to step forward and assume command of the stables.”
“Wise council,” said Sera. “Very well, if she agrees to it. And so,” she looked around at all the others, “I thank you again for the services to Zem’ you have all agreed to render. Should you need of anything to facilitate your preparations or your journey, you have only to ask. And now I leave you in my sister’s capable hands.”
Everyone bowed and insisted once again that it was an honor to serve, and then I led them out of the room before they could see how Sera had to be helped out of her seat by her guards.
***
“Come on,” I said as soon as we were out in the corridor. “Let’s go back to my chambers.”
Aksinya Olgovna nodded in understanding, but the younger members of the party all looked taken aback at the suggestion.
“I don’t have anything improper planned,” I told them impatiently. “I just need a…quieter location for our discussion. And you and your reputations are going to have to get accustomed to being alone in my company anyway. But if it helps, think of Aksinya Olgovna as your chaperone.”
Aksinya Olgovna permitted herself a small smile at the thought of three people of age needing a chaperone, and herself performing that duty. Alzhbetka saw it and bridled, Ivan saw it and looked uncertain, and Amiran saw it and nodded briskly.
“Of course, Valeriya Dariyevna,” he said. “And of course”—he gave Ivan and Alzhbetka a meaningful look—“we trust your honor with our own. Lead the way.”
I set off down the corridor with Aksinya Olgovna beside me and the youthful trio—already I was thinking of them that way—a few paces behind us. To an outside observer it probably looked like they were merely showing us the deference that our age and rank deserved, but by the occasional whispered word I was able to catch (my hearing had always been excellent), I deduced that Alzhbetka had deliberately slowed their pace in order to hiss a stream of warnings and invectives against my character to the boys. I repressed a sigh and the strong urge to go give her a good slapping.
Once we got to my chambers, though, I had to admit that I began to wonder whether Alzhbetka hadn’t been right and I shouldn’t have brought them there. Although Mirochka was out and the maids had already come through and cleaned, with the five of us all in the front room it suddenly seemed rather cramped and bare and yet also—I hastily pulled closed the curtain that separated the bedchamber from the front room—painfully intimate. Maybe because it was so cramped and bare; now they all knew that this was how I lived. I imagined that Alzhbetka, Amiran, and Ivan were all used to much finer accommodations. Well, soon we would all be sleeping out on the ground together anyway, so they might as well get used to a life lacking in finery.
“Your daughter is not here, then, Valeriya Dariyevna?” asked Amiran politely.
“She is with her brothers,” I said. “We will not be disturbed.”
“I had hoped to make her acquaintance, Valeriya Dariyevna. I have heard she is a very fine girl, and one of great high spirits. As,” Amiran gave Ivan a meaningful look, “Ivan Marinovich has cause to know and be grateful.”
“Is that story already circulating through the kremlin?” I asked.
“The story of how the heir to the Wooden Throne has already shown her greatness of heart by defending the honor of one of her princes?” Amiran grinned, while Ivan blushed a particularly painful blush even for him. “It must be halfway to the mountains by now, Valeriya Dariyevna. Soon hearts will be melting the length and breadth of Zem’ over your daughter’s deeds.”
“Well…good,” I said. “And perhaps you can meet her tomorrow, at the Midsummer festivities. But first, our party. Will you be bringing guards? Chaperones? I want to travel light and swift, but I’m sure your mothers would want you to have guards and chaperones with you. Alzhbetka already has her own guard. What about you, Amiran and Ivan?”
“I think my mother has washed my hands of me,” said Ivan. “I think whatever guards and chaperones you deign to provide me, Valeriya Dariyevna, will be the guards and chaperones I’ll have.”
“Do you want a chaperone?” I asked him. “Because the Tsarina and I have already resolved to provide you with one, if you mother refuses. We would not wish you to feel…dishonored, no matter what your mother might have done.”
He shook his head, blushing scarlet. “I’m sure…I’m sure our company will be enough, Valeriya Dariyevna. I trust you all with…everything. I’m sure I’ll be safe with you.”
“Very well,” I said. “And Amiran?”
He grinned. “In the South we are our own guards and chaperones, Valeriya Dariyevna. I would be happy to provide more people for our party if we need them, but for myself, I am enough.”
“Good,” I said. “It will just be us, then. No need in weighing ourselves down. Now, about our horses…”
“What’s wrong with the Tsarina?” demanded Alzhbetka.
I froze. Only for a moment, and in other company I could have covered it up, but with that crew even a momentary lapse was telling, and by the time I said, “What makes you think there’s anything wrong with her?” it was, I could tell by their faces, far too late for dissemblance. I told myself I should be glad to have such sharp companions on my journey.
“A child of three could see that she was unwell just now,” said Alzhbetka with the disgust of the very clever at having to explain something that to them was r
idiculously simple, and giving me a thoroughly deserved unpleasant look for having tried to deceive her. “And she hasn’t been out as much as she normally is, and the other day she was suddenly taken ill and spent a good part of the day in bed. It’s all over the kremlin, and probably Krasnograd as well. So what’s wrong with her?” she repeated, reddening as she realized how impertinent that sounded. “I mean, if we’re going to be journeying all the way to the Eastern mountains on a special Imperial mission, we have a right to know,” she continued, looking me in the eyes and holding her ground despite the censorious looks the men were giving her for prying into the Empress’s affairs. “We have a right to know!”
“So you do,” I agreed. “But only if you can make me believe that you can keep a confidence and not go spreading what I’m about to tell you all over the kremlin. It’s the Tsarina’s private business, and it’s her decision when to share it with her subjects.”
“Of course, Valeriya Dariyevna,” said Amiran, while the rest gave tight little nods. Despite their—well, Alzhbetka’s—flaws, I thought that they most likely were trustworthy in this matter, and they did deserve to know.
“The Tsarina is with child,” I said.
Everyone looked confused at my grave face.
“But…surely this is good news?” said Amiran.
“Do you not…” I stopped and looked at them. “You don’t know,” I said.
“Know what?” demanded Alzhbetka.
“The Tsarina…” I had to pause to clear my throat. “I thought it was widespread knowledge, but perhaps not. Perhaps there are some things too painful even for princesses to gossip about. But anyway. The Tsarina is…she has always had difficulty bearing children. With each son she brought into the world, she suffered more than the last, and in between there have been…misfortunes. So the healers told her never again. She must give up all hope of producing an heir; it was too dangerous for her.”