Page 26 of A War Apart

I stiffened. “Ulyana mentioned she had a plate for you, I assume.”

“She did, but I wasn’t hungry.” He sat on the bed next to me and began pulling off his boots, a slight smile playing on his face.

“Well?” I shook with barely suppressed anger. He’d been gone all day without a word of warning, and here he was acting like nothing had happened.

“Hm?”

I stood, throwing up my hands. “Are you going to tell me where you’ve been all day? I was worried sick! You left this afternoon with Konstantin to meet someone, and then he came home without you and said you’d gone to the temple to pray and would be back by supper. And don’t think for one second I believe you were at the temple this whole time. After everything that’s happened, you disappear for a whole afternoon in a city crawling with soldiers, and you come in hours after you’re supposed to be back, without so much as a hint of remorse!”

He grabbed my hand, but I jerked it back, eyes stinging. “I am sorry, Mila.” His expression was open, honest. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I knew…”

“Knew what?” I snapped.

“I went to see the tsar.”

In the silence, I could hear the low murmur of Ulyana and Konstantin’s voices through the walls. I opened my mouth, trying to form words through my fury.

“Why—How?”

He stared at me, uncomprehending, for a moment. Then understanding dawned on his face. “No! No. Not him. Mila,” he took my hand again, “Borislav is alive.”

I sat down as his words sank in. “How?” I repeated.

He squeezed my hand. “He survived the battle, Mila! He’s been in exile since then, but he just returned. He’s raising support to take the throne. To finally defeat his brother.” He quivered with excitement.

I frowned, not believing what I was hearing. “You were with Tsar Borislav? He’s alive?”

He grinned. “We went this morning to meet someone who claimed the tsar was alive. It turned out to be another survivor from Barbezht. He told me where to go to find him.”

I sat unmoving, too shocked even to pull my hand from his, as he recounted his meeting with the tsar.

“He’s alive, Mila.” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. “The tsar is alive. And…” His expression wavered slightly. “He wants to meet you.”

Shock washed over me like a bucket of icy water. “What?” Borislav, chosen heir of Tsar Vyacheslav, wanted to meet me. “Why?”

“I told him about…” He shook his head, unable or unwilling to speak about my attack. “Everything that’s happened over the past few months. And about what we went through after Barbezht. He was impressed by your bravery.”

An ember of hope flickered in my breast. No one could restore my child to me, but if Borislav wanted to meet me, maybe he would help me claim the justice I deserved. The justice I’d never find in Miroslav’s tsardom. I could tell Borislav the truth about who attacked me. When he took the throne, he’d see those men punished.

Han cleared his throat. “If you’re not ready—”

I cut him off. “When do we go?”

“Tomorrow morning.” He reached out to brush a thumb over my cheek, and for the first time in months, his touch didn’t make my skin crawl.

“Good.” I climbed under the covers, turning over and closing my eyes. “You should get some sleep.”

He laid his hand on my head. “Good night,dorogusha.”

Chapter ten

Meeting the Tsar

Mila

We said our goodbyes to Ulyana and Konstantin the next morning and left the city. My stomach churned with nerves as we stopped at a small temple outside the gate.

Han led me inside. To the left of the altar was a simple statue of the Prophet, who had revealed the divine ancestry of Fima the Blessed and guided him in his conquest of the country. The statue held a scroll, head bowed in pious prayer. To the right of the altar was a statue of Tsar Fima himself, sword and head raised in victory.

---