***
By the time the sun rises, I’m back in my nuptial apartment, packing my trunks. Peter wakes with a grunt as his servants arrive to get him dressed. I’m already bathed and in my yellow gown.
“Wake up, husband,” I say merrily as our breakfast is brought in.
He groans, staring at me with one eye open.
“Your aunt will be here soon. And the maids need to make the bed.”
He rolls out of bed, holding his head in one hand.
“Why are you so cheerful?” he demands. “I’ve not forgotten our conversation last night.”
I smile sweetly. “I know, and I’m sorry you feel that way. But I thought that perhaps, after what happened between us later in the evening, that you had reconsidered your plan.”
He looks confused. I point to the bed he’s just vacated, and to the small bloodstain on the sheets.
“I didn’t…” he stammers. “We never—”
I hold up a hand. “I know you were quite intoxicated, but don’t worry, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.” I put my hands on my belly. “And who knows, perhaps we already have a little prince or princess on the way.”
I turn to Elizavetta, who has just come into the room. She looks at the bed in abject horror, her eyes shifting to Peter accusingly.
“Please see that those sheets are washed,” I say, then blow a kiss over my shoulder to Peter, who looks as if I’ve struck him.
The empress rushes in behind her, ecstatic to see the bed in such disarray.
“Everything went well?” she asks pointedly.
I nod, tugging down my long sleeve to conceal the small cut in my palm I’d used to bloody the sheets.
“Everything went perfectly,” I say with a wide smile. For the first time, when I look at the empress, I don’t see an imposing figure or a fierce queen. I see a sad woman, terrified of losing a throne that was never rightfully hers. Her heir is a rude, cruel little boy who will never have a lick of real military or political sense. And I realize that she needs me, much more than she would like me to know. And I also realize that the power in our relationship has shifted. She must see the discovery in my eyes as I stand, unwavering, before her, because she slouches just a bit under my gaze.
I clap my hands and my ladies rush to my side, one placing my new crown upon my head. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a lesson with Sergei.”
I turn and walk out of the room, not bothering to look back.
The End: Book One
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Queen of Someday Page 31