Page 37 of My Wild Horse King

“It’s amazing what abstaining from alcohol and regular meals can do,” he says. “I’m a little worried about what might happen while I’m gone.”

Leonid’s a pretty attentive son—even though his father’s an embarrassing mess, he always takes good care of him. It can’t have been an easy task. He surely could have abandoned his father years ago and done much better on his own.

But working as a gardener, his father has blossomed himself.

“Look, when we get there, instead of saying you’re my driver, why don’t we introduce you as an old family friend?” I tilt my head. “Father purchased you new clothing. We can tell them your connection to Rurik, and they’ll do their best to see whether you can use magic. That’ll give us a chance to see whether you might have powers.” I drop my voice just a bit. “It’s a win for both of us.”

Leonid’s eyes light up, and his hands grip the steering wheel tightly enough that his knuckles turn white. “Do you mean it?”

“It helps us both.”

He nods slowly. “I pretend to be interested in you, to make Alexei Romanov jealous.”

“At the end, we’ll tell them that what we saidistrue, but also that you work for me, so that no one gets upset about the lying.”

“What about Boris?” he asks. “He’ll tell them the truth immediately.”

“I lied to Father,” I say. “Boris wrote me to say he’s staying in France at least an extra week, maybe two.” He went to try and set up some trade agreements for our family, and he’s met a woman he really likes—he doesn’t want to leave until she’s agreed to return with him. That’s why he wrote to me instead of straight to Father. He wanted me to cover for him.

It’s why I wasn’t overly worried about him reporting to Father.

The rest of the drive, Leonid’s quiet. As we pull around the drive to the Romanov palace, he asks me a question. “What if, at the end of all this, I feel about you the way you feel about Alexei?” He shifts the car into neutral, shoves on the hand brake, and turns to face me.

“What if. . .are you asking what happens if you start to like me for real?”

Leonid shrugs. “Stranger things have happened.”

I suppose he’s right. “I—I don’t know.” Heat rises in my cheeks, because the idea of Leonid liking me is a strange one. He was my charity case. My project. The boy I met on a trip home from a ball and convinced my father to bring into our home as an act of charity.

He smiles then. “Don’t worry. It won’t happen.”

“How do you know?” I arch one eyebrow.

He leans closer, his breath warming my ear. “Just like that,” he whispers. “You need to blush like that, and talk to me like that, and look at me like that if you want to make him jealous.”

I was worried. Worried that Leonid, who has worked at our home doing odds and ends for years, would have no idea how to flirt or court or make Alexei jealous, in spite of his face. But apparently, it was for nothing.

“Who’s this?” Alexei’s voice is strong. Louder than usual.

I spring away from Leonid, not sure why I feel guilty. It’s stupid. I swallow. “Alexei Romanov, meet Leonid Ivanovich. He’s a direct descendant of Rurik himself.” Before I can open my own car door, Leonid leans across me and pops the door open himself.

“Katerina invited me to come.” Leonid’s voice is deeper than I remembered. “She said that I might be able to learn something.” His insouciant grin isexactlywhat it should be. It’s almost like he’d been preparing his entire life for exactly this role.

“Learn something?” Alexei frowns at Leonid and then turns to me, offering his hand to help me exit the car. “Learnwhatexactly?”

I step a little closer, inclining my head. “The same thing we’re all here to learn.” I widen my eyes. “My father told him about it, so you don’t have to worry. He already knows.”

“Your father—” Alexei’s mouth clicks closed. “He must trust him a great deal.” His nostrils flare, and it’s clear he’s not pleased. “I don’t recall reading that Rurik or his descendants were exceedingly handso. . .” He shakes his head. “Never mind. I’ll talk to Maria about finding him a room.”

We may have hatched our plan as an afterthought, and we may only be in the first few moments of it, but so far, it’s off to a promising start.

10

GUSTAV

Ipulled quite a few all-nighters at Yale, and I wound up doing even more during business school. It might be because I’m older, but waking up after sleeping only two and a half hours feels harder than any of those. All I want to do is roll over and, well, I don’t have a blanket to snuggle under, and I finally rememberwhy. There are so many people in my house that I had to loan my own blanket to one of them.

It doesn’t help that I dreamt of a palomino chasing me all night long.

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