Page 35 of My Wild Horse King

9

KATERINA

A hundred years before

* * *

Inever expected that Alexei’s ploy would go on forthree years.

My father was so excited about the prospect of my marrying the future czar that he didn’t shove any eligible men my way. Father took me to every single ball and event Alexei was reputed to be attending, and the more time I spent, the more in love with him I fell. The only real problem was that it was all fake. Alexei liked the charade almost as much as I did, because his mother stopped trying to fix him up with nobles from other families and countries.

We were both free.

Until the spring that I was turning twenty-one.

“It’s time,” my father says. “We’ve waitedyearsnow, because Alexandra has these stupid ideals of a women not being forced into marriage, but youwillset the date for a wedding while you’re at the palace.” My father’s nearly salivating at the prospect of my marrying Alexei.

He has no idea that the groom’s the one opposed, so I have to put him off in some other way.

“I’m not sure whether?—”

Father shakes his head. “You’re there for a full two weeks, and you’re blessedly the only daughter from all the magical families of Russia. It’s a real stroke of luck that we started training all the children together after your mother passed. Your brother will be there to see that things progress properly.”

He means that Boris will be reporting back.

“But this year, Alexei has to?—”

“No more excuses!” Father flips an end table over, sending his disgusting snuff box flying toward the wall. “Katerina, I swear that if you do not come back officially engaged, I’ll find the next eligible man and marry you off this summer.”

What he means is that he’ll find me a disgustingly rich old man. Father has always motivated with threats. The reason they work is that I know he’ll follow through.

Which means I have about two weeks to convince Alexei that after pretending to like me for three years, he likes me for real. Luckily, I have an idea of how I might encourage him to commit. Last season, my friend Cassandra had a wealthy and impressive suitor who had casually pursued her for a full season, but never committed. . .until a young and dashing baron with a nice little estate started to pursue her as well. Once the original man saw that someone else wanted her, he committed.

The trouble in my case is in finding anyone in Russia who’s willing to evenflirtwith the woman the future czar has expressed an interest in. For the past three years, everyone has given me a wide berth. The last thing they want to do is alienate the Romanov family.

“I hope you have your trunks packed,” Father says. “Mr. Ivanovich is prepared to load them into the boot on the car.”

“Dad,” I complain. “It feels like we’re trying too hard. The palace isn’t that far. Have the trunks delivered, and I’ll just shift and run over myself.”

“Absolutely not.” Father’s eyes flash, and I worry about the other end table.

“But—”

“You will be seen as alady, not as some unrefined hooligan who gallops anywhere she’d like as a horse.”

In the doorway, Leonid clears his throat. Luckily, he’s already in on the family secret—he and his father have been with us for more than two years now, and they were brought in almost six months after their employment began. It’s always easier for Father to trust people when they’re entirely reliant on our family for support.

But no one expected Leonid to fill out and grow up like he has. He’s taller and broader than both Father and Boris, and he’s only a year older than I am. His handsome face has become almost disturbingly beautiful. “Father has loaded the trunks already.” He inclines his head. He’s wearing the nicest clothes I’ve ever seen him wear—Father must have bought him a new wardrobe now that he’s our chauffeur.

“Perfect.” Father tosses his head. “Then you should go now.”

“I’m not expected until tomorrow,” I say.

“You’ll go today—early. Tell them you were confused. That’ll give you some time to spend with Alexei, alone. Leonid will go with you as your footman, and if you leave the palace for any reason, he’ll go as your chaperone and guard. The car will stay there with you for the duration.”

As some kind of misguided show of wealth, I’m sure. I can’t help rolling my eyes. “It’s not necessary for?—”

“They don’t see us as equals,” Father roars. “That’s been the issue all along. I’m not sure whether it’s Alexei or his parents who looks down on us, but we will observe all formalities. They’ll see that the Yurovsky family’s lackingnothingthat the Romanovs have, and that my beautiful daughter’s a perfect match for their jumped-up popinjay of a son.”

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