Page 31 of A War Apart

His voice was quiet, collected. By the Blood, couldn’t he ever show his anger? He made me feel like a shrew. I crossed my arms and glared at him, unspeaking.

“You’ve barely recovered,” he said. “This is no time for you to travel across the country.”

“It’s been nearly two months! I’m recovered. You can’t keep treating me like I’m made of porcelain!”

“We’re a family, Mila. That means we stay together.” He sounded so sure of himself. So calm.

“We don’t have a family!” He flinched back, but I didn't stop. “Miroslav took that away from us when he let his soldiers run rampant over the country. He deserves to pay for what he’s done, and I have as much right as you to make him.”

“I didn’t swear loyalty to the tsar for a chance at revenge!” he shouted.

Good. I’d finally broken through that mask of calm. I stared him down, daring him to fight.

He took a deep breath and continued, quieter. “I did it because Borislav is the best leader for the country. Miroslav is a danger to the tsardom, and to our family.” He nodded as I opened my mouth to speak. “Yes, Mila, we’re a family. The two of us, even without a child. Killing Miroslav won’t bring our son back, and getting yourself killed in some senseless attempt at revenge just gives him more opportunity to hurt us.”

“This isn’t about me!” I hissed. “The tsar believes I can best serve him at court. I agree with him.”

He took a seat on the bed, rubbing his neck. “I don’t want you to leave me, Milochka.”

How dare he make me feel guilty? “You mean like during the last uprising, when you left me for months? And while you’re following the tsar across the country, what am I supposed to do? Sit at home and pray? It’s not like we have children for me to care for.”

“I’m worried.” He sighed. “I’d feel better if you were at home, where I know you’re safe.”

“You mean safe at home like I was when those men attacked me?”

He closed his eyes, a gasp of breath escaping his lips, and I felt a rush of regret. I’d lied to him about the attack so he didn’t have to bear the blame for what had happened. It wasn’t fair for me to throw it in his face like that.

I sighed and forced my voice to soften. “I’d feel better if you were at home, too. Will you stay?” He wouldn’t. That wasn’t who he was.

He gathered me into his arms and leaned in to kiss me, but when I tensed, he pulled back.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“It’s just a few months,” I said, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “You’ll be so busy with the tsar that you won’t have time to miss me.”

“Just…be careful.”

His task would be the more dangerous one, raising an army, fighting a war. Shouldn’t I be the one worrying? I slipped out of his grasp. “The tsar’s waiting.” Before he could stop me, I left him alone.

The door to the tsar’s room was open. He sat in an armchair at the window, facing away from me. I knocked on the doorframe, and he turned, smiling warmly.

“Mila! I didn’t expect you so soon. Please, have a seat. May I offer you a drink?”

“No, thank you, your majesty.” I took the chair opposite him and looked around the room. It was well furnished, but far from ornate. A writing desk, a table, and a few chairs and stools made up all the furniture. Through an open door on the far wall, I saw a simple four-poster bed. Not exactly a fitting dwelling for a tsar.

He followed my gaze. “You must be wondering why, in the baron’s castle, I would be living such a simple life.”

“I wouldn’t dare to presume to ask.”

He poured himself a drink. “Nevertheless, you were wondering.”

I gave a small smile of assent.

“You know the events of Barbezht, of course. As my brother’s reinforcements arrived, I was prepared to call a retreat. My commanders, however, predicted that even with a retreat, we would be followed and slaughtered by the overwhelming number of fresh troops at Miroslav’s disposal. They sent a man to pull me from my horse and see me to safety, willing or no.” His face darkened. “They were right. Once I was safely off the battlefield, they called for a retreat, but they were run down and killed almost to a man. None of my advisors survived. I escaped to Andinor, where Ilya Sergeyevich was serving as the Inzhrian ambassador.

“I waited there in hiding. Finally, Ilya was able to get news to me. My cause was defeated, all my men dead, and I was rumored to have fallen on the field.” His gaze grew distant. “That was a dark time for me. The death of my father, followed so closely by estrangement from my mother and brother—not that we’d ever been close—and the destruction of all I held dear…” He shook his head. “I vowed to Otets that I wouldn’t live a life of luxury while my people suffer under my brother’s rule. I asked Him for a second chance to defeat my brother and give new glory to the Blood.”

“And you will,” I said softly, moved by his story. I could imagine how the tsar had felt, cut off from all his friends and family, trapped in a foreign land with no companions.

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