“I’m not sure Antonne and I will even last. He’s…temporary.”
Malik laughed, and for the first time in years, it wasn’t cold and bitter but as if something had actually struck him as funny.
“What?” I asked, a small smile being drawn to my lips.
“You look at each other like Mama and Papa did. Whatever you have with him, it isn’t temporary.”
I wanted to laugh because the entire thing was a sham?nonexistent. I was a tool, but I was determined to be used as little as possible from here on out. I was determined to find what Cruz needed, hand it over, and get him the hell out of our lives. I was working every angle I could to get Mama to the States including Cruz, Georgie, and Malik in hopes that one of them would pay off, but it would be a mistake to think I was anything more to Cruz Malone than a way for him to destroy this world.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at the cathedral,” I said softly.
“I’ll meet you and Mama in the anteroom for a private viewing before they move him to the main cathedral,” he said.
We weren’t religious people. But part of Volkov’s elaborate funeral arrangements included a service at St. Isaac’s for the supposed masses that wanted to send him off. Maybe it was fitting that a church used mostly as a museum these days would be the location of this farce of a ceremony. After, there would be a parade of soldiers leading his casket down the avenue over to the cemetery. It wasn’t what Mama, Malik, or I needed or wanted, but Rurik was right. It was what was demanded of his position in Russia?a leader, even though he was never elected in any official capacity.
After we hung up, I joined Mama in bed, staring at the canopied top and wishing for sleep that wouldn’t come even though I felt the weariness in every part of me, as if the tired had become an actual element twined in my blood.
I heard and smelled Cruz enter through the secret door between our rooms. I felt his presence prickling at my skin as if my entire being shifted in his direction like mercury being drawn to a heat source. I closed my eyes, feigning sleep, as he stood watching over Mama and me. If I’d allowed myself to look at him, I was sure his jaw would be ticking, and his arms would be crossed over his chest with his hands shoved under his arms. Whether this was an attempt to stop himself from touching me or if it was his normal stance, I didn’t know.
“You’re not fooling me, little one. Try to get some rest. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”
Then he left, taking the air and the heat from the room and leaving me shivering.
? ? ?
Getting myself and Mama ready took an enormous amount of effort the next morning. I was grateful the suit Alexia had sent over for my mother included a little pillbox hat with a veil covering her face. It allowed her to hide her tears, her weariness, and the panic she felt at leaving not only my room but the house entirely. She’d lost weight since Alexia had seen her last, and I had to pin the skirt to keep it on her body as we didn’t have time for one of the maids to alter it once I’d realized it. But the pins were hidden under the jacket, which was supposed to cling to her curves but instead fell loose.
The dress I’d tried on at the boutique fit me in the same glorious way it had when I’d first put it on. Daring and provocative at the same time as it was dark and fitting for the occasion. Alexia had sent a hat for me as well, but I’d never been a hat person. Instead, I piled part of my hair in a braid, wrapped it around like a crown, and twisted the rest up into a swirl at the nape of my neck.
I tugged Mama’s hands into a pair of black gloves, buttoned them, and hooked the diamond-and-pearl bracelet she loved at her wrist. The matching necklace and earrings followed. I wrapped a similar set around me after tucking the locket I never took off underneath the dress. The jewelry was classical and yet expensive, like every piece my father had ever chosen for us.
We left the room with long, black dress coats draped over our arms. Mama paused at the top of the stairs, drawing back from me a little.
“Raechka, I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered as a tremor ran through her.
“I’ll be at your side the entire time, Mama. Malik is meeting us at the church. It’s just a few hours. Papa believed you were strong, and now you must prove him right.”
She stared, and her eyes were hard to read behind the veil, but she finally nodded. We moved down the stairs to where Rurik and Cruz were waiting at the bottom for us. Cruz dwarfed Rurik, who was not a small man, and it would have drawn my gaze even if the gold threads in Cruz’s suit hadn’t caught the sunlight streaming in the multitude of windows, turning him into a godlike creature. He was carved and crafted like a masterpiece that caught my breath. The look he gave me as he took me in from head to toe did little to help my breathing. It was as if he was checking to ensure every piece of me was unharmed. I resented the fact that he made me feel safe when all I wanted to do was send him away.
“You look beautiful, ladies. Petya would be so proud of you,” Rurik said, and he stepped forward to kiss Mama’s cheek. The veil at least kept his lips from hitting her skin, but I still felt Mama shiver as I held her arm. Rurik either didn’t notice or didn’t care, turning and heading out the door.
Ilia was waiting just outside with Ito-san?whose name I’d finally learned from Cruz. Rurik’s men were there as well, mingled in amongst our security. Cruz, Rurik, Mama, Ito-san and I got into the back of the limousine while Ilia sat up front next to the driver, while the rest of the security took over two more vehicles behind us.
Mama’s hand squeezed mine tightly as we left the gates. She twisted to look back at the palace as if she believed we’d never be coming back to it, and it drew my eyes as well. Like her strange premonition the other day, it made me wonder if she was right. I tried to shake it off. It was our home. We would be back at least long enough to pack our bags and head for the United States.
Rurik was on the phone most of the ride, giving orders and grunting out replies. Cruz was next to Rurik and across from me, and I could tell he was on alert. His body was tense, and his gaze kept running over my face. I turned my head out the window, watching my homeland travel by as we left the outskirts and entered the mess of streets and rivers that made up St. Petersburg.
We drove by the front of St. Isaac’s with its five gold-tipped domes gleaming in a cloudless sky. A large crowd had assembled in front of the red-granite pillars of the neoclassical building, waiting for the enormous bronze doors to be opened. It was hard to imagine this many people coming to say goodbye to Papa. My throat closed. I was unsure if they’d all been impacted by him personally or were just coming to see the show. Regardless, it didn’t matter. They were still there to send him off, and the entire day suddenly seemed daunting.
Our little motorcade drove around to the side of the cathedral where we were let out and ushered into a side room by our security teams. We were joined there by Malik, Yano, and more guards. I’d barely had time to wonder if Yano was going to freak when he saw Ito-san with us before I realized she’d already faded away.
Malik had said we’d have a private moment with our father, but we weren’t alone. We were on display in this little room as much as we would be once we followed Papa out into the main body of the church. Malik walked toward us with three red roses in his hand, and Mama’s grip on me tightened as he handed one to each of us. He put his arm through Mama’s on the opposite side, and we went up the short aisle to where the casket sat open. Malik leaned in, kissed Papa’s cheek, and laid the rose on him. My throat closed, and the pressure in my chest reached an all-time high. My teeth ground together as I tried to blink back the tears I refused to cry in front of any of these people.
Mama let out one long, guttural sob as she placed a hand on Papa’s face, kissed his cheek, and left the rose. She turned into Malik’s chest, and he wrapped her in his arms, shielding her from those behind us who were watching and cataloging every movement.
My heartbeat increased a thousandfold as I leaned in to kiss my father’s cheek. I wanted to close my eyes, to run, to be anywhere but here, seeing Papa this way. I didn’t want this to be my last memory of him, and yet I had no choice but to make it so. I placed the rose with the other flowers, and then turned my eyes to his face, stilling. It was all wrong. I blinked. It looked like Papa, and yet it wasn’t right?as if in death, his features had somehow blurred. Before I could stop myself, my hand was going to his cheek, as if to turn his face and get a better look.
Malik twisted so Mama was away from us and leaned down, hissing, “What are you doing?”