Page 40 of Seduced

He is my age, younger actually,Alexei thought,and he is living his life like this: not thinking of himself or his pleasure. Unable to seek love or amusement, confined down here as he is.

“This is no life for you,” Alexei blurted out, unable to help himself. “What of women and an heir? What of…”

“I cannot afford,” Nikolaos cut him off, “to love or be loved. It is out of the question for me. I am wed to the cause.”

The cause was Greece and its freedom from slavery.

Upon first meeting Nikolaos, Alexei had been so taken with his passion for the revolution, that he had read a book titled‘A Brief History of Greece’within less than two nights. He had since read approximately twelve more books on the history of Greece and its current situation, and still could not get enough. The story was so glorious, starting from the ancient times, and then turning tragic and even positively grotesque, in recent years. He was fascinated and terrified all at once.

“There is more,” Alexei said, reaching into the breast pocket of his vest. “Are you up to it?”

“I am if you are,” Nikolaos said.

Alexei took out a scrap of paper and turned it towards the light.

It was cut out from a political journal. On closer inspection, it was discovered to be American, unbelievable as that seemed. On it was an article written about the French Revolution, the American, and how more were about to spring up all around Europe. In the end, there were fiery closing arguments about helping to free Greece from the Ottoman Empire’s clutches, and about funding the resistance to turn it into an independent country, belonging to the Greeks, once more.

“I wrote that,” Nikolaos said. “It was published in Paris four months ago.”

“Now it’s been published in America,” Alexei said, “and circulating back here. Scraps like these can be found in every literary salon in London.”

“Naturally, your gaming club included.”

Alexei scoffed. “The Hellion Club is not a literary circle, it’s true,” he said. “But it is a place of subversion. These ideas have been circulating down here for years before they surfaced on the rest of the world.”

“I know.”

“Well, I did not bring this all the way down here to show you your own words, printed across the ocean. I brought it to show you this.”

Alexei turned the journal paper over. Words were scribbled roughly across an illustration of Napoleon. They read:

‘You will surely die if the revolution mentioned in this paper starts from your club.’

“Jesus.” Nikolaos sat back heavily.

As Alexei’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness, he looked around the room. It was comfortable enough, but Nikolaos had been secreted down here for weeks, and might be kept for months more. He hadn’t seen the sun in days. And how could he, when London was crawling with assassins looking for him?

They wanted to kill him before he could start the revolution for Greece in Moldovia.

What they didn’t know was that Nikolaos had set the wheels turning already. Even if he died tonight, which Alexei swore would not happen, the war would still happen; but it probably would fail without him.

Nikolaos was Greece’s last hope, and the last hope of all the Greek expats who had come together in Paris, Vienna and Russia, among other places, to gather intelligence, gold and soldiers in order to start the war to free the country of Achilles and Sophocles from its oppressors.

And that was the reason he was hunted; if he died, the revolt died with him.

“What next, Mikailoff?” Nikolaos said, his voice low, defeated. He was using Alexei’s middle surname, familiar only to his friends, and as such he was appealing to him now—as a friend, not a prince. “Before you know it, Europe will have a Greek revolution on its hands, and I won’t be here to see it come to fruition. It’s being planned already; I give it five to ten more years until it fully blossoms out. But I don’t know if I have that kind of time.” Alexei pursed his lips. “And what about you? I mean, you are not political, never have been, but you will be the one to blame for it as well. Well, your club. Which you have built and curated so that it’s a safe and desirable place for hunted Viennese intellectuals, Greek princes and all sorts of secret societies.”

“Those people sound like a sad bunch,” Alexei said, regarding Nikolaos carefully.

“They are,” Nikolaos replied. “That’s why they are starting a revolution for Greece.”

“Good for them.”

“Well. You are not the Greek prince Nikolaos of Moldovia,” Nikolaos said, “I am. It is not fair that you should be the one threatened.” He frowned, putting his glass aside. “No one’s life should be in danger, just because I am about to be killed.”

“What did I say about joking?” Alexei snapped. “I find talk of you being killed distasteful, Your Highness. Besides, don’t talk to me as if I don’t know what it’s like to be a prince everyone wants to kill.”

Nikolaos winced.

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