City of Deception (The White City Series Book 1)

by Alexa Mackintosh

  City of Deception

  Empress. They swiftly lift a petticoat over my head fol- lowed by a corset. The Empress herself ties my corset, pulling the strings as tight as I can bear.

  “I remember the first day I came to the palace,” she says. “My parents sent me as Sergio’s bride. I met him three weeks before the wedding.”

  I don’t know why she tells me this, but I listen.

  “I wasn’t happy here and quickly grew homesick. I thought Sergio hated me. He rarely spoke to me, and no one was there to comfort me when I cried. After our mar- riage, I realized he did love me but in less obvious ways. I understand some of the loneliness you suffer, dear. If you need anything, know you can come to me.”

  “Thank you.” The Empress would be the last person I’d ever confide in.

  Another servant takes a blood red dress from a giant box. They slip it over my head, careful to avoid my hair. They tuck, twist and pull, puffing up the enormous silk skirt and bustle. I’ve never worn so much fabric in all my life! The fabric for the skirt alone would cost more than my family’s yearly allowance for clothes.

  The dress spreads out in a small train, the front hem resting above my feet. Leaves fashioned from lace adorn the bodice, and as the servants fidget with my dress, I re- alize the bodice has hard inserts to help hold its shape. A sash runs around my waist. The dress gives me an hour- glass figure, making me look thinner. When the servants

  Alexa Mackintosh

  finish, the Empress leads me to a mirror. The dress is gor- geous and my hair perfect. The Empress studies me for several seconds before tugging gently on the top of the dress.

  “Don’t you think it would look better if it came a little lower?” she questions. She uses a tone similar to my mother when she is asking my opinion to be polite, not to take my opinion into consideration. She repositions the top of the dress and sleeves, revealing more of the top of my breasts. I suppose it is fashionable, but I find it unset- tling.

  “I think your dress will be the talk of the night,” the Empress says, smiling proudly.

  Her maids agree before shuffling out of the room, but the Empress remains. I put on the necklace and earrings that Zadie loaned me, the ones made of ornate gold beads that sparkle in the light. Once I put on shoes, the outfit is complete. I take a few steps, already resenting the uncom- fortable shoes, but feeling like a princess as the dress sweeps around my feet.

  There is a knock at my door.

  Before the Empress or I can invite the guest in, Ivan enters. If he weren’t the prince, such an intrusion would earn a few lashes in punishment.

  “Ladies,” he says folding his arms behind him in a sign of some respect. He walks towards me. “I’m here to be your escort this evening.”

  City of Deception

  He holds his arm out to me, and I take it. He looks about as happy at the prospect of being my escort as I feel about being beside him. I am being given over to a glacier: still, cold, and unreadable.

  How did I ever admire him?

  Ivan leads me from the apartment towards the main entrance of the palace, his mother following behind. I can almost feel her eyes boring into my back. The rest of the Royal family is gathered in the hall when we arrive.

  I dare a small smile to Dmitri over Ivan’s shoulder while the rest of the family prepares to board the gilded carriages. He is quite striking in his black and cobalt waistcoat. It is not as flashy as Ivan’s, and he looks ten times more handsome because of it. If I did not know Dmitri, I would think he was a normal First, void of the issues that plague him. There’re no signs of the metal legs except for the occasional stumble as he helps Zadie into a carriage. When he sees me watching, he smiles in return. Ivan catches him and glares.

  “Let’s go to the carriage.” I pull Ivan away before an argument can begin. I’ve heard plenty of harsh words shared at the dinner table and noticed the occasional bruises the princes sport after such arguments. Why do they act like they are archenemies?

  Ivan helps me into the carriage and takes the seat across from me. To my surprise, we are sharing a carriage together.

  Alone.

  Alexa Mackintosh

  “It’s a pleasant day,” I say after several minutes of si- lence. The carriage jars as it hits a hole in the road. I catch myself before I slide off the seat.

  “Pleasant conversation is not necessary,” he says.

  I hold my tongue for a moment, but then blurt out ex- actly what I think. Ivan has that strange effect on me. An- gelica calls it “overly vexing disease.” “I try to be what your family taught me to be. Are not ladies expected to be perfect in your social sphere?”

  “Expected, yes, but few follows that.”

  My shoulders go rigged. “Thank the Universe, for I be- lieve no woman could fulfill your expectations.”

  He smiles. “That is yet to be discovered.”

  A chill spreads up my spine. I stare out the window to avoid him.

  Several minutes later he says, “We’ll ask you to do something you don’t wish to. If we ask you something, you comply no questions asked. Am I clear?”

  “Is this a threat?”

  “No, I’m simply telling you what you agreed to. Orion asked you into this city. I would never have forced some- one I cared for to enter this web of deception. Everyone says they wish to hear the truth, but they don’t. They keep their lies because they are comfortable with them. Facing the truth causes pain, and few, in my experience, enjoy pain. I suggest you do as told and do not question our or- ders if you don’t wish to experience the pain of which I speak.”

  City of Deception

  I want to strangle him. I wrap my hands in my lap and ignore him. I’m ready for the day to end so he will no longer be my chaperone.

  s

  Ten different houses. Sixteen dances, most of which are with Ivan. Way too many stodgy nobles.

  Four hours pass in Rotaya Square, the part of the city where the richest live. The Royal family and I visit the wealthiest friends of the Royals before returning to the palace at dusk for the ball where all are invited.

  The homes are magnificent, full of gardens and art- work and small armies of servants. Almost every noble stares at me in surprise. They treat me with respect but speak to me out of curiosity. They want to know why a commoner hangs off the arm of the future Emperor.

  Ivan sticks close to me, even keeping an eye on me when I go to talk to the wives and daughters of the nobles.

  I spot Zadie, Kir, and Dmitri but do not get a chance to speak with them. I don’t know why, but the Mer- siovskys are on edge. More arguments break out than I can stand.

  Finally, we go back to the palace to greet the crowds swarming in the humongous banquet hall. As we descend several flights of stairs, I realize the hall is beneath the castle, and the chandeliers and ceiling are made of rein- forced crystals. Everything sparkles like freshly fallen snow.

  Alexa Mackintosh

  The hall breaks into applause when we enter the cham- ber, but after several minutes the madness dissipates. Af- ter another dance with Ivan, I refuse to dance anymore. I look for Dmitri, Kir, and Zadie, hoping for an escape, but they are missing. Ivan explains that they stayed behind at our last stop and will be joining us later. I assume it is to avoid more of the fuss about Vera’s death.

  I talk to several people, sipping sweet champagne as I do so. I tell myself the night will be over soon. The night is supposed to be one of celebration, but instead, I feel claustrophobic. I have to get away from the looming shadow that’s supposed to be a chaperone.

  “Ivan, will you give me a moment? I need to visit the ladies’ room,” I say, desperate for a moment alone.

  He doesn’t release me. “We planned to make the an- nouncement later, but come. It’s better this way. The Firsts won’t be mostly drunk as they would be later in the evening.”

  Ivan leads me to the front of the room to a platform where the musicians play. They stop in the middle of their song as they see us approach.
Heads turn to watch us.

  “Stay here for now,” Ivan says. He reaches for a glass of bubbling liquid on a tray carried by a passing server.

  I wait unsure what is happening when the Mersiovskys gather a few feet away from the platform. I feel suddenly self-conscious and distract myself by straightening my huge skirt. All eyes are pinned on Ivan and me.

  City of Deception

  “Distinguished guests and family, I thank you for com- ing this evening,” Ivan says, a hint of a smile gracing his features. “Tonight, I wish to honor Natalia Alkaev. A toast to a magnificent and beautiful woman.”

  He holds his glass high before drinking, his words as dry as his drink.

  “She came to us as nothing more than a commoner, but now she is a lady of repute!” he says. The crowd claps and shouts praises. Blush seeps into my cheeks, embarrass- ment and resentment flooding through my veins. He doesn’t have to point out my past as a Third.

  When he waves for me to stand beside him, it deepens my feeling that I am nothing but a trophy to the Mer- siovskys.

  Ivan wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him as though we’re best friends. I gaze up at him con- fused, and though I try to step away, he holds me still. He maintains his smile a miracle for someone who’s probably never smiled a day in his life, privileged fool. I glance to the rest of the Mersiovskys, but the princes and Zadie re- veal nothing.

  But then I notice the similar expressions. Kir and Za- die at me with pity and regret, Kir altogether looking away when I meet his gaze.

  They know already what is happening.

  Dmitri stands further back in the crowd. Unlike Kir and Zadie, he seems as puzzled as me.

  Alexa Mackintosh

  “I would like to announce that a most peculiar thing has happened to me in the last few months and that I have chosen who will be the future queen of this glorious coun- try,” Ivan says, interrupting my thoughts. “Miss Alkaev and I plan to be married within the year.”

  My head shoots up, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp like a fish struggling for its last breath. It can’t be attrac- tive in the slightest, but the blood rushing through my ears and the hammering of my heart keep me from form- ing coherent thoughts.

  I push Ivan away. “Is this a joke?”

  “I said we would ask you to do something. You owe us for allowing you to stay as a ward, and this is the price. Is this so unfair of a request? You will live in luxury all your days. My little brother is so important to you that you would give up a perfect future and a throne for him? Please, the love between the two of you is the love of fools. You don’t even know the depth of your feelings for each other, they are so shallow. By next summer, you will love someone else.”

  “You don’t know what I feel. I would expect you wouldn’t know. You’re too cold to love anyone.”

  Ivan’s fist clenches and his other hand rises towards me. My mind processes the strike before it ever comes, and I grab his wrist. I know I shouldn’t, but I tire of others planning my future for me. My mother never wanted me to join the rebellion. She wanted me to open a shop, but not far away. The rebels expect me to sacrifice everything

  City of Deception

  to defeat the Royals. I can’t like the boy I know I’ve fallen for. Now this engagement.

  I will have a choice in this. They won’t choose my fu- ture for me.

  My hand hits Ivan’s cheek with a loud snap.

  Half of the crowd gasps before falling eerily silent. “You could have at least asked me. Or were you too

  much of a coward to ask because you knew I would decline your offer?”

  “It seems my bride is overwrought with excitement,” Ivan says to the murmuring crowd. Some of them chuckle, but most gape in horror. Ladies hold fans up to their faces to cover their bewildered expressions, and the reporters in the back of the room scribble the story down.

  I hope the story makes the morning news. I want to see the Mersiovskys find a way to cover this story.

  Dmitri storms onto the platform followed by Zadie. Sergio joins Ivan and starts to address the crowd as he puts an arm around his ward’s shoulders. He’s congratu- lating Ivan on our happy match, but his actual words wash over my head. Before I can leave the stage, Ivan grabs my hand and places a ruby ring on my left middle finger, the traditional place for engagement bands.

  I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to swim through the murky waters the Mersiovskys favor.

  Ivan glares at Dmitri. “Let Zadie escort her out. You don’t need to touch my fiancée.”

  Alexa Mackintosh

  “And I think it’s not appropriate for you to touch your bride before your wedding,” Dmitri shoots back. “Zadie will be a witness to my integrity.”

  I wonder if Dmitri would hit Ivan if he stood a few feet closer. By his intimidating glare, I have little doubt.

  My heart does a strange dance for a reason beyond fear and bewilderment. However, the happiness is quickly swallowed.

  “Keep the insults to yourself, Dmitri. Now is not the time for this,” Zadie says.

  I don’t care what quarrel the brothers have anymore. Ivan should begin to fear me because as soon as I have my wits back, my wrath will be far worse than any blow Dmitri can deal. The best way to destroy a person is to sever their soul, not their body.

  Ivan doesn’t know what I may do to him, and I don’t either. He’s the rightful ruler, and it is my job to ensure his ascension to power is smooth and not tainted by the Mersiovskys.

  But I will do something.

  s

  Dmitri and Zadie help me to my room. Somewhere along the way, I recall stumbling through the hallways. Gratefully, they don’t speak or ask me questions.

  We reach my apartment, and Zadie pushes against the door. “Zadie and I are here for you if you need us,” Dmitri says.

  City of Deception

  “Your door is jammed,” Zadie says, shoving harder. I know, from many days of use, that the door doesn’t even squeak when it opens much less takes effort to open.

  Zadie moves aside, and Dmitri rams the door with his shoulder. I open my mouth to warn him something is amiss and that someone might be in my room, but the door gives, and Dmitri stumbles over the threshold un- prepared. A chair that had been propped against the door goes reeling halfway across the room, skidding to a halt when it hits the wall.

  I grab the back of Dmitri’s waistcoat steadying him. Several people scream “Surprise!” as they pop up from be- hind the bed and out of the closest.

  I recognize the woman in the corner immediately. “Mama!”

  I run to her and am enveloped in a hug. I feel other arms wrap around my waist and look down to see my step- sisters smiling up at me. In a second, the excitement of seeing them leaves and I begin to sob.

  “You don’t know what’s happened,” I cry, grabbing onto my mom’s arms like the guards will drag her away before I can talk to her. “I-”

  She smiles holding my left hand up to the light. “I think I do.” The ring Ivan gave me glistens, every ruby ten times brighter than I recalled from the ballroom.

  “Let me see!” my stepsisters cry almost in unison. My mother drops my hand so they can see and at that moment notices Zadie and Dmitri.

  Alexa Mackintosh

  “Your Highnesses,” she says dipping into a curtsy. My stepsisters’ eyes bulge as they take in the Royals. They follow my mother’s curtsy in an instant.

  “Mrs. Alkaev-Diri, how wonderful to see you again. Though I’m sure you’ve missed Talia, it has been a delight to have her here. You have a wonderful daughter,” Dmitri says.

  A few weeks ago I’d have done anything to see that smile that made my heart tap dance in funny ways. But now, I try not to think about the fact that I’m engaged- engaged- to his brother.

  Zadie kicks the back of Dmitri’s ankle so fast I almost miss it except for the minuscule twitch at the corner of his lips from pain and the light flutter of her skirt. Perhaps she was worried my mother or I might catch on
to Dmitri’s…friendliness towards me.

  “Thank…Thank you, your Highness,” my mother stut- ters, beaming at me with pride.

  I wipe the tears beginning to stream down my cheeks, already a new wave threatening to break free at the cor- ners of my cloudy vision. “Can I have my family to myself right now?” I ask, or rather, demand.

  My friends walk out the door and close it behind them. I stare at my family for a few seconds before I completely become a mess again. I choke down a sob long enough to comment on my stepsister’s hair and the other one’s in- creasing height, both dancing around me like I’m a new

  City of Deception

  doll they received for Christmas. I’ve never seen them so happy.

  “I’m sorry all of us couldn’t come,” my mother says, re- ferring to my stepfather’s absence. “You know how it is: work called. If he didn’t keep working, we wouldn’t eat.”

  “Can we jump on your bed?” Liliya asks.

  I nod, smiling a little as I watch the two bounce on the bed, curls and lacy frocks flying every which way. “So, what’s he like?” my mother asks.

  “Dmitri?” I ask confused.

  “No, silly, your husband-to-be. Is he going to be a good son-in-law?”

  Damn the Universe. She wants this to happen.

  “I don’t know. He’s a stranger to me!” my voice rises with each unsteady syllable.

  “A stranger? You must have met him in the last few months,” she says, pulling out her handkerchief and dab- bing at my eyes. She uses her softest voice, the one she used to comfort me as a little girl.

  “He’s cold.” Of all the people I know, I thought my mother would understand. I thought she’d support me in not marrying Ivan. She wanted me in the palace, but I didn’t think she would expect me to set my future aside. We’ve always had our differences, but she expects me to marry against my will?