Empress of Poisons ARC

by Bree Porter

  I smacked it away. “No, I don’t want bread. I want to yell at you. What happened?”

  Konstantin curled his lip, the beast inside him coming to the surface. He wore his mask well, better than most, but even he didn’t have infinite patience. If there was anything, I was good at, it was riling up this man.

  Back when I had first arrived, when I was twenty-three and more apathetic than the Devil, Danika had once mused how I was the only one who could get under Konstantin’s skin. He is so patient and diplomatic with everyone else, but somehow you really tick him off.

  Thanks? I had said.

  She laughed. It’s a compliment. You know how it’s a talent to make some people laugh? Yours is the opposite. Your talent is making Konstantin want to break his façade.

  “The woman I loved left me,” he growled. “I offered my kingdom, my family. I even offered to give everything up for her.”

  “You didn’t mean those things–”

  “Yes, I did.” Konstantin’s tone was hard, but he wasn’t speaking to me the same way he had when we were in his office. Maybe I needed to piss him off some more.

  God, I thought in the midst of my sad fury, is this how Roman feels every day? No wonder he’s on such a power trip.

  “What was I meant to say, Konstantin? Thank you?”

  “I don’t need your thanks.” He growled. “All I wanted was for you to stay.”

  “It’s too late now.”

  He huffed. “Indeed, it is.”

  We stared at each other for a second, taking in the person opposite us in. My chest was rising sharply, and adrenaline warmed up in my veins as the promise of a fight lay on the horizon. Konstantin didn’t look much calmer.

  “You’re angry at me.” I said. “I can tell.”

  His eyes sharpened with his smile. “I was.” He took another sip of his wine. “I was furious with you. Sometimes, briefly, I still am.”

  “What changed?”

  “Two reasons.”

  I had the sick feeling I knew what they were but I asked for clarification anyway.

  “His name.” Konstantin replied. “Nikolai Konstantinovich Tarkhanov.”

  In Kon’s accent, the name rolled off the tongue easily and beautifully. It sounded correct and fitting, the true way my son’s name was meant to be said. Like each syllable was an ode to his regal bloodline.

  I clutched the glass in my hand. “Oh?”

  “That is not a name a woman gives her son when she hates his father.”

  He was right. I hated that he was right.

  The word revealed blared like an alarm in my mind. Revealed, revealed, revealed. I was lucky there was nothing that could produce ink nearby or else I would’ve turned into a dictionary with the number of times I would’ve written the word on. I could almost picture it in my mind: revealed over my forehead, over my neck and hipbone and inner thigh. Revealed, revealed, revealed.

  “The second reason is that you taught him Russian. Why would you teach him Russian…unless you planned to return to us all along?”

  You planned to return to us all along.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Don’t play dumb, Elena. It doesn’t look good on you.”

  I dropped my glass a little harder than I needed to. Wine sloshed over the side. “What do you want me to say, Konstantin?”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “I want to know why you left.”

  “I told you when I left why. Do I have to keep repeating myself?”

  “Until you tell me the truth.” He folded up the napkin he had been using. “Yes, you do.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, donning my imaginary armour. You’ve lied to him before, I soothed myself. This is a walk in the park for you, Elena. “I am telling the truth. Just because you don’t like it doesn’t change anything.”

  “The truth would change things, Elena, because it would explain the lies.” Was his diplomatic response. He was good at controlling his temper–I’d give him that. “Why did you leave?”

  “I told you.”

  Konstantin dropped his fork with too much force. His anger was beginning to become more prominent. “Fine. Then what did Tatiana mean? Them or you?”

  19

  Elena Falcone

  Them or you?

  I had nightmares about that day. About Tatiana’s saccharine smile and her parting words. Even her little speech had a permanent spot in my brain, the words constantly on repeat like a bad song.

  Oh, Elena, she had cooed. The stupidest thing you have ever done is cared about someone other than yourself. Not so smart, now, are you?

  Sometimes, I think she had a point.

  When I was younger and intent my own survival, I had never been in this much agony. My thoughts had been filled with my comfort and botany science breakthroughs, not the jumbled mess they were now. Is Nikolai happy? Is Konstantin angry with me? Is Danika healthy, is Roksana in pain, is Roman succeeding? What about Artyom, Dmitri and Anton? What about Evva and Natalia?

  Hell, even Babushka reserved time in my head. Where is she? Is she okay? Are the birds in the surrounding areas safe from her?

  My eyes snapped to Konstantin’s upper arm. I knew the names that were listed there–I had the same ones scrawled on my heart.

  “How do you stand it?”

  His brow furrowed. “That’s what Tatiana meant?”

  “We’re not talking about her anymore. I asked you: how do you stand it? Loving all these people, keeping them safe and protecting them? I feel like I’m going to go fucking insane.”

  Konstantin’s face softened. He looked younger as he smiled kindly, revealing the man that still lived in him, no matter how hard he tried to eat him alive.

  “Isn’t that we are all here, lyubimaya?” He asked. “To hold and be held in return? To love and be loved in return?”

  “I don’t think that’s why I’m meant to be here.” I said, trying to keep my voice level but failing miserably. I don’t know what it was about Konstantin that made my lips become so loose, that dissolved my filter. But before I knew it, I was spilling my deepest fears into the air between us.

  “I think I’m meant to be tucked down in some lab and mixing chemicals all day. God made me to advance science and the world we live in. I wasn’t made to take care of people, to offer nurture and comfort. What are Nikolai’s friends going to think when they come over? Or his teachers? Are they going to think he’s loved by the haughty creature standing the kitchen?”

  I gestured to my face, to the awkward features that contoured together. I had always been odd, never ugly or pretty, just difficult to draw. I had never been bothered by this; it had kept me safe from empty compliments.

  In fact, I used to laugh to myself when my family would try to compliment me, always falling quiet before the word pretty, because it was never the correct word to describe me. Elena, you look so...then they would trail off. Like the silence was better than the lie.

  “I look like a branch with eyes,” I finished my rant with. “A branch with fucking eyes.”

  Konstantin laughed.

  He actually laughed.

  I nearly shot out my seat. “Are you laughing?”

  “Forgive me, my Elena,” he managed to calm himself down long enough that he could speak. “I did not mean to laugh.”

  My Elena. I only had a second to pick up the term of endearment before my anger took over.

  “I’m glad I amuse you.” I all but hissed.

  Konstantin bowed his head. “I do apologise. It just baffled me how intelligent you are and yet still...can be so astute?”

  Astute? I nearly threw my wine on him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. Then with blazing focus, he pinned his eyes on me, rooting me in place. “It means you are the most beautiful creature that has ever walked the earth. When I look at you, I see mountain peaks and flowers blooming for the first time
. You are the stream running through the trees and the breeze rustling the leaves.

  You could never be reduced to words such as pretty or cruel or kind. All the languages in the world could never find a term to do you justice, much less a throwaway compliment.” Konstantin didn’t lift his eyes from mine. I had been swallowed whole. “Describing you commands one’s entire mouth and an essay of idioms. There is simply no other way to define you.”

  I couldn’t speak. My tongue weighed a thousand pounds in my mouth, my brain was a busted circuit.

  “And you ask me if the world will think you’re not capable of loving your son. You ask me if you’re capable of loving anyone properly? Oh, lyubimaya, you are spilling with love. For a long time it might not have been for a person, but I read your words and saw your eyes light up when you spoke about data and laboratories. You have been a creature of love your entire life; loving people is just harder than loving things.”

  I had to look down at my hands, breaking eye contact. Tears welled but I refused to let them fall.

  “Why are you saying such nice things about me?” I asked.

  “It is the truth,” he said. “You’re a person I love, and you needed to be reminded of why.”

  I wasn’t looking at him so I couldn’t see his expression, but his voice was filled with nothing but adoration and kindness.

  I dug my nails into my skin, feeling the piercing pain for a few seconds before releasing. The words in my head were screaming to get out, practically clawing their way up my throat.

  I swallowed.

  “I broke your heart, Konstantin.”

  “An honour I would afford no one else.”

  That undid me.

  I looked up, meeting his stare. The twin browneyes were filled with no contempt or hatred, only endless love and pride. He looked at me like there was nothing else in the world; he made me feel like there was nothing else in the world.

  I opened my mouth. “I–”

  Them or you? Tatiana’s voice cut cruelly through my mind, slicing my sentence in half.

  Them or you, Elena?

  If anything ever happened to Konstantin, I would never be able to recover. And if it had happened because I was not strong enough? Because I had failed him?

  Kon had never failed me. He deserved the same treatment.

  I shot to my feet, wine falling and shattering. Blood-red liquid soaked the dining cloth.

  “I have to go.”

  “Elena–”

  I ran.

  I stumbled into the hallway, swallowing down air. I wanted my baby, I wanted my son. I wanted to hold his little face and shower him in kisses, I wanted to hear his sweet voice–

  I came to an abrupt stop. The door to the lounge room was cracked open but no movie played on the screen. Instead, Roman sat on the floor, Evva in his lap, Niko on his right and Anton on his left. A book was open before them and Roman was reading aloud to the toddlers.

  I felt wetness on my cheeks and a quick swipe with my hand revealed them to be tears.

  Roman could read. He could read and he was reading to his niece and nephews.

  My eyes couldn’t move away from my son. Niko was listening intently, pointing things out on the page and laughing at Roman’s funny voices for each character. He was happy and engaged, not afraid or uncomfortable. He acted like Roman read them stories every night and this was simply part of his life.

  I had been so worried about breaking my heart that I hadn’t fully contemplated Nikolai’s heart.

  Leaving his family…oh, God.

  Pain struck my heart, and I clutched my chest on instinct. Was I really going to tear him away from them? Was I going to make him endure the same hurt I had three years ago?

  What sort of mother did that make me?

  I rested my head against the wall, listening to Roman’s rough voice.

  What was the other options? I would rather have Nikolai alive and heartbroken rather than…I couldn’t even say it in my mind. I would do whatever it took to keep him safe–but what if keeping him safe meant I had to break his heart?

  You stupid woman, I cursed myself. If your heartless younger self managed to fall in love with the Tarkhanov family, what did you think your son would experience? Did you really think you could visit his family like you were on a holiday and leave when your stay was up?

  I dug my nails into the plaster.

  Them or you? Tatiana’s voice echoed through my mind.

  If anything happened to them, I could never recover. If something happened to Nikolai? Fuck, I couldn’t even fathom it.

  We are your family, Artyom’s voice came to be quietly. Sister.

  The wall groaned as my nails dug deeper.

  It was Konstantin’s words that decided my solution, that helped me make up my mind. My Elena, oh my Elena. Lyubimaya. My soul, my heart.

  “Neither.” I breathed, my decision finally revealing itself. “I choose neither.”

  20

  Konstantin Tarkhanov

  For once, it was Elena who found me.

  I opened my bedroom door, prepared to attend dinner, and found her standing in the hallway. She looked like she was deciding whether to knock or not, but I had made the decision for her. She almost jumped a foot in the air when I said, “Elena?”

  Elena recovered quickly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Konstantin.”

  “Is there a reason you’re haunting my doorway?”

  Elena hadn’t spoken to me since the night before when I had laid my heart on the table. I hadn’t pushed her, but she had been able to feel my intense gaze over the breakfast table. Everyone had excused themselves early to escape the tension.

  She jutted up her chin, pulling her shoulders back. The usual Elena defence position. “I’m here to talk to you.”

  “I see.”

  “We shouldn’t fight in front of the children,” she said. “Or the others. It’s unfair to them. Breakfast shouldn’t be so…awkward.”

  “I agree.”

  Elena crossed her arms over her chest. “I am here to apologise.”

  “Very well.”

  Her resolve broke within seconds. “Did you wake up cursed to two-word sentences?” She demanded. “Say something substantial.”

  I leaned against the door arch. “I don’t want you to run away again so I’m choosing my words very carefully.”

  Elena dropped her shoulders, pulled them back, then dropped them once more. An internal war was waging on in her mind, causing her to fidget with discomfort. What I would do to be able to see inside her mind, to understand the inner workings of the woman I loved.

  “Your words were beautiful, Kon. I…I’m just…I…We–” She broke off.

  My eyes dropped down to her arms. She had hidden her words beneath the sleeves of her sweater, but I could make out chase between her thumb and forefinger.

  “Lost for words, my Elena?”

  “Don’t do that.” She muttered. “No more charming comments or seductive hints.”

  I worked my jaw, already anticipating what she was going to say next. Elena was drawing the line in the sand, stepping further away from me. She was a million miles away in her mind–now she wanted to physically create that distance.

  “I see.” Her eyes flashed at my two-word answer. “We will need to decide on a custody agreement then.”

  She blinked once, twice. “A what?”

  “Custody agreement for Nikolai.” I explained even though she knew what I had meant. Elena was just giving me a reason to take it back. “It is important for him to spend time with his…father’s side of the family.” Uncle Kostya blared through my brain.

  Elena looked pissed off, but she kept her temper in check well. “When he calls you daddy, you can get your fucking weekends, Konstantin.” She pointed a finger at me. “Until then, don’t you dare challenge my authority as his parent. I am his mother, his parent. I make the decisions; not you.”

&nb
sp; “We might need a mediator,” I said instead. “Things will never get resolved if we are alone by ourselves.”

  “Don’t speak over me, Konstantin. I’m not one of your little soldiers. Hell, I’m not even Artyom. I won’t crumble beneath the weight of you, I will not kneel to the Pakhan.”

  I leaned closer, breathing her in. Her breath stuttered. “You will kneel, Elena.” I told her quietly. “You will get on those knees for me, lyubimaya, and only me.”

  Elena made an effort not to shudder, but the reddening of her cheeks told me all I needed to know. “Don’t be disgusting. I’m trying to have a discussion with you.”

  “So you are.” I leaned back. She let out a harsh breath. “I will not miss another moment of my son’s life. You have always been free to do as you please, but this is where I draw the line.”

  “I have always been free to do as I please. That is an interesting recollection,” Elena muttered. “I don’t want to talk about this. I’m here trying to extend an olive branch.”

  “When can we discuss it?”

  Elena didn’t want to answer honestly. Her thoughts tumbled by her eyes in a strange pattern of complexities. Snidely, she said, “I’ll pencil you in.”

  “I think you should bottle your sarcasm and sell it, Elena. Make a fortune.”

  She clenched her fists. I could practically see her temper threatening to rip through her skin and strangle me. “I’m trying to apologise. I don’t want to fight.” The words were spat out.

  “Maybe I do.”

  “Am I no longer the apple of your eye?” She mocked. “How fleeting your fancies are.”

  Fleeting? I had coveted this woman before me for years. She had consumed me in every sense since I had read that article, a love letter to poisons.

  “Fleeting, Elena?” I asked.

  Elena’s eyes danced over my expression. She could probably see the sharpening of my mood, the growing anger I tried so hard to control. “I am extending an olive branch. Take it or leave it.”

  If I hadn’t felt my temper boiling in my gut, I might’ve laughed. “An olive branch? You have insulted me, mocked me and made me late for dinner.”