Everything I wear is golden or crimson. Rings adorn my fingers, and my gown is heavier than I imagined a dress could be. The train alone required several maids to carry behind me. Fortunately, the gown hides my shaking legs. A thousand people fill the assembly hall and sit be- hind us, and cameras wait ten feet away. I’m thankful they are turned to our backs and not zoomed in on our faces. I know most eyes rest on Ivan, but I still feel faint with the lights and the realization that in the next few months, if I don’t act, I will stand here and be crowned as well.
All my freedom will be taken and no power given in return.
The official continues speaking, much as he has for the last twenty-five minutes. A few days ago, I went to the library and read about the coronation ceremonies of the past so that I might know what to expect. Only the Mer- siovskys held theirs like this.
Zadie had to tell me what to expect, and even she was a little surprised by the change.
Why change tradition?
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My thoughts let me wonder away from the crowded room and leave most of my fear behind. However, the fear returns two minutes later when Ivan steps back, jerking me from my thoughts.
The official holds the crown, and it hangs high in his hands. The official was about to crown Ivan and Ivan was about to recite the final oath.
Ivan turns my way. The indifference has melted away, and rage burns in its place. “I do apologize in advance. If they ask, tell them to blame me; you knew nothing of what I was about to do.”
He faces the crowd and cameras and begins to speak. “Most of you in this room do not remember my parents. Those of you that do were cowards then and are the same now. You are hungry for power. The rest of you are con- trolled by fear as I have been, but I refuse to bow to fear again. One day I will return this planet to what it should be, or at least use every last breath to bring down the evil that took it over. When that day comes, I expect to fail, simply because all of you refuse to do anything.”
Stepping down a few stairs, he hesitates before contin- uing, “My promise as king is that my people will reclaim what is ours.”
He returns to the official and allows him to set the crown on his head.
Under his breath, he whispers “You will all drown in your own blood as my sister did.”
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And with those quiet, ominous words, the guests rose to their feet and shouted, “Long live Emperor Ivan!”
s
The Next Day:
“My lady!” Georgianna screams bursting into the li- brary. Heads turn towards the commotion.
She spots me and runs over to where I sit. “Come quickly. Ivan has been in an accident.”
I set down my book and stand. “Is he hurt?”
“The physicians think he bruised his jaw and broke several ribs. You should be by his side.”
As I follow her to the infirmary, I ask, “How long ago did this happen?”
“A guard found him at the bottom of a staircase a short time ago. He was bleeding and unconscious from a blow to the head. The physicians don’t think that the blow will harm Ivan long term, but he has yet to wake.”
We reach the infirmary and make our way to the Royal Wing. It is bustling with nurses, and reporters are flood- ing in. We enter Ivan’s room to find the Empress and Doc- tor Mercier. Several nurses come in and out with equipment, constantly flooding the room. Ivan lies on the bed with several pieces of equipment attached to his arm. His right eye is swelling and turning purple, and his jaw
City of Deception
has similar bruises. His breathing is irregular and shallow because of his ribs.
Mercier sees me but does not greet me. He turns to the nurse that stands behind him. “Fetch more of the pain- killer I prescribed and see if the scans are back yet. I need to see the scans before I can be sure of the extent of the Emperor’s injuries.”
She squeezes past me as I stand in the door frame. She looks up for a second and smiles before disappearing into the frenzy of the infirmary. But that second was all it took for me to recognize her as the rebel with fiery hair.
Mercier turns to the Empress. “Your ladyship, I sug- gest you rest. I promise the Emperor will be fine and if anything changes you will be the first other than me to know of it.”
The Empress leaves.
Mercier looks up at me. “I am glad there is one member of the royal family who does not melt into grief at the first sign of the Emperor’s injuries. It’s not as if he’s on his deathbed.”
“Is there anything I can do?” I ask. “Get the cameras out of here,” he says.
Me? Address reporters? I’d much rather not. The flash of cameras from outside the room send chills up my spine. I tuck my hands against my skirt and walk out of the room. Guards hold the reporters back. Most of the report- ers stand behind the barrier the guards created, but some
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try to push through. They start snapping pictures and asking questions before I can speak.
I take a deep breath and hold up my hands silencing a few of them. “If the reporters will follow me, I will answer your questions. It is indecent to be in here taking up the infirmary’s space and setting the nurses and doctors on edge.”
Not all of them could hear me, but it doesn’t matter. They are more than willing to follow the future Empress. They continue to shout questions as they shadow me and I try to answer as many as I can. I remind myself to hold my head high and say nothing incriminating.
I lead them to an open room void of furniture. It’s large, like all the rooms in the palace, and gold curtains hang on the floor to ceiling windows. I stand in the front of the room.
“Now, ask me whatever questions you may have about this accident. When I have answered them to the best of my ability, you are to leave this room and not reenter the infirmary. You may stay in the palace, but don’t get in the way of the infirmary staff. If any of you interrupt the doc- tors and nurses, Ivan may be harmed. I doubt you want to see your name in the papers tomorrow under the headline ‘Reporter almost kills Emperor.’ Clear?” I say. “Now please, ask your questions.”
The ability to stop the crowd and make demands of them is strangely calming. My hands stop shaking, and I start to feel confident in front of the reporters.
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“Is the Emperor severely injured?” A man in a blue waistcoat asks.
“No, he has sustained minor injuries. He is uncon- scious, but will likely be fine in a few days,” I answer. I’m not sure that is true, but no need to make everyone worry prematurely.
A woman snaps a photo, and the light leaves white cir- cles in my eyes.
I wave my hand. “Don’t do that again, please.”
She must take me seriously because she puts the cam- era down.
“How do you feel about the Emperor’s accident?” an- other person asks.
How do I feel about Ivan’s accident? Now that is a good question.
“I am worried as is the rest of the Royal family,” I lie.
I answer questions for fifteen more minutes before stopping the reporters. “I’ve answered your questions. Now please remember my requests and stay out of the in- firmary.”
They try to follow, but guards hold them back and make a path for me. I return to the infirmary amazed I could handle the reporters so easily.
Mercier is still in Ivan’s room when I return. “I believe he will wake in a few hours. From the bruising along his jaw, I would guess he will be unable to speak for at least a day after he wakes. If he does speak, it will be painful,” he says.
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I stay still, unsure if I should remain or leave.
“Since he is your fiancé, I suggest you sit with him for a few hours. I will return, but I don’t believe the Emperor is in danger after checking his vitals. If the slightest thing changes, the equipment will notify me,” Mercier pulls a chair over to the bed. “Take a seat, my lady.”
I m
ight despise Ivan, but the least I can do is sit by him for a few hours. At least he won’t try to speak to me this time. I sit, and a few minutes later Mercier leaves on his rounds. I wait in silence, wishing I had a book.
An hour passes before Ivan stirs. I don’t know he is awake until his hand brushes my arm.
I don’t know what to do, so I say, “I’ll fetch Mercier.” As I rise, Ivan grabs my arm and holds me in place.
Pain plays across his face. “Don’t get anyone yet,” he mumbles. His lips are swollen and his jaw worse.
“Let me get something cool for your jaw then, and try not to talk. Mercier said you shouldn’t talk for some time.” He releases me, and I walk to one of the cabinets along the wall. I soon find several flat, white pads the size of my hand. I recognize them from the one my mother used to put on my swollen bruises. Each is filled with some cool- ing formula that helps numb pain. I place one on his eye
and another along part of his jaw.
“Can you put one on the bruise on my rib?” he asks.
I look at his covered chest and the blankets around him. I’m not looking forward to halfway undressing him.
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Why didn’t the nurses think to put the pads on him? “If you think it will help.”
“Nothing can make it worse. I hurt like hell,” he says. I find it odd he mentions hell, something from the old re- ligion, but keep it to myself.
I pull the blanket down to his waist and gingerly work the shirt up far enough to see the bruise. “That’s a beauty.”
The bruise runs across at least three ribs and is angrily swollen and purple. I put two pads over it and pull his shirt back into place. “Now can I get Mercier?” I’m sur- prised the equipment hasn’t alerted him already.
He shakes his head. “You need to…You need to be care- ful,” he pauses for a shallow breath. “People want you dead, and even as Emperor, I can’t protect you. Please be careful and don’t trust even those you care about.”
I know where this is going. “I’m getting Mercier. Your pain meds are messing with you.”
As I leave, I once again spot a speck of fiery hair, but it is gone into the crowd before I can catch her.
Why was Nikki here? And why haven’t I seen her since I saw her double’s, Vera’s, grave?
{ 26 }
Chapter 26
Week Later:
I WALK DOWN THE STAIRCASE keeping one hand on the marble railing afraid my giant skirt may trip me yet. I head to Kir’s room to meet him for a practice husband meeting when Zadie hurries down the stairs to catch me.
“Petrov needs to talk to you,” she whispers. “A leader wants to see you.”
“You know about…?”
She nods. “I support the cause. Petrov has made me realize the injustices of the Royals.”
My heart thumps madly. A rebel leader in the palace means one of two things. One, my orders to kill the royals should be carried out immediately, or two, something has gone wrong.
“Where should I meet them?” I ask.
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“Petrov is waiting outside with a carriage.”
We reach the bottom of the staircase and start for the hall that will lead outside. Zadie stops midway.
“I’ll make an excuse for your absence to the Mer- siovskys.”
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Petrov drives until we exit the city. He continues until we come to the first village of Thirds. It looks much like my home except for zeppelins in the sky and buildings that reach many stories above our heads. At one time, the city was said to be beautiful with its buildings of diamond, but for some reason, the government took down most of the buildings later. No one is sure why they did it when diamonds are as common as any other pebble. The gov- ernment tends to use the diamonds and jewels for build- ing because they are so numerous.
He stops the carriage outside a five-story complex in the center of town. “You’re to go in alone.”
I straighten my dress aware that it makes me stand out. No commoner would ever wear such a dress. I’m in a sap- phire gown with a bustle and golden overcoat, and against the crumbling, dust-colored buildings, I make an easy target. Luckily, the street is deserted.
I walk to the door and open it aware that being outside leaves me vulnerable. I knock a cobweb out of the door- frame as I enter.
The main hall is deserted except for one man.
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General Hardcastle.
When we’ve met before, I haven’t had a chance to study him. He is about the same age as my step-father, his hair graying and thinning in some places.
“Hello again, Natalia.” He gestures to the stairs behind him before continuing, “If you sit, I will tell you why I asked to see you.”
“You’re a leader?” “Yes,” he answers. “Prove it.”
“I have no proof. My identity is concealed. I carry a fake idea for safety reasons.”
“This could be a trap then.”
“It could be. It is your choice whether you stay.”
I walk past him and sit on one of the creaky stairs. My dress spreads out around me and picks up dust and cob- webs even as I try to keep it tucked around my knees.
He sits beside me and stares for a few seconds before saying, “You question who you believe. I would be a fool not to see that you wonder if the rebels are right and if the Mersiovskys are as terrible as you once thought. Tell me, what changed your mind? The luxuries?”
“Some are not as I expected,” I say, eyes darting to my lap.
“Ah, yes, Zadie is good considering her upbringing.” He watches me again before saying, “But you weren’t re- ferring to her. Is it one of the princes?”
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“It doesn’t matter. My loyalty remains with the rebel- lion.”
“Good, because you’ll kill them a month after you are crowned Empress. Angelica will help you, so you will not be blamed. You’ve proven with the Emperor that you have the skills and strength to carry out what we ask but like- wise proven you do not follow orders. We did not give you orders to kill the Emperor.”
I meet his gaze. “It was rash to kill him, I know, but I thought it wise. His decisions caused stress for the rest of the Royals, making the situation fragile and volatile.”
“Because of your actions, we’ve decided you should marry Ivan. Having you in place as Empress will smooth things over as the rebellion takes over. It will give us time to set up a proper democracy, and because so many months will have passed, few will suspect you killed the rest of the Mersiovskys.”
I stand and try to hide my twitching fingers. “Marriage was never part of it.”
“You are willing to do anything to avenge your father’s death, aren’t you?”
I freeze. “How do you know about that?”
“I am a leader; I know most secrets.” He smiles as he says, “The planet will be run by you and the leaders once you wed. The Mersiovskys will die, and once you marry, we’ll find ways to take power from Ivan. The Thirds will follow you, and at least a few of the Firsts will support you.
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The Seconds will support the strongest monarch. With- out you in place, the Thirds will invoke a bloodbath.”
I swallow to shove the panic back down. Marry Ivan? I don’t care if I must spend one night with him as a wife. It’s a horrible idea.
“I thought Ivan was the one we want to put on the throne,” I say. There must be a way to get out of the mar- riage. There must be a way for me to keep Dmitri alive.
“Emperor Ivan is a good man, but he is no ruler.” “You want me to be Empress? If you dispose of every-
one, I will be the one with power.”
He nods. “That is the idea. Do not worry; the leaders will make all decisions. You and Ivan will be allowed to live in the palace, free of worries. Other than speeches or meeting ambassadors, all else will be cared for.”
Red flags rise in my conscious. Me as Empress? Mar- ri
ed to Ivan? Those two things do not bother me as much as General Hardcastle declaring we will have no power and he will control everything. At least the power will be shared between leaders and transformed into a democ- racy.
“Imagine living with someone for a year. Would you not form an attachment?” I ask. “Killing them, as much as I despise them, is getting hard to imagine.”
“Perhaps, but remember who you belong to.”
“I am not an assassin, sir. You are aware that I never thought I would be in this position. I don’t know how to handle this new role. I don’t like the Mersiovskys, but do
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I want to stick a knife between their ribs? No, of course not. I don’t kill people.”
“Your supervisor mentioned you tended to stay in the background and plan. I take it you were the one to formu- late plans, and Angelica carried them out?”
I nod.
“Perhaps you can form a plan for how rebels might overtake the palace. If we could get an assassin in on that night, you may not have to be the one to kill the family.”
He glances at his pocket watch. “Is there anything else that you want to know before I leave you?”
“Yes, how are you a general and rebel?”
“I worked alongside Sergio before he was Emperor. We became friends, and he trusted me. He never sus- pected I worked for both sides. It’s taken most of my life to set up my position.”
That explains the Mersiovskys unwavering trust in him.
“We will contact you again when the wedding draws nearer,” he says.
“Please do.”
City of Deception (The White City Series Book 1) Page 18