Page 78 of The Crown's Fate
But Nikolai didn’t want the others to know he was an enchanter. He didn’t know how they’d react, especially since Trubetskoy had been wary of “magical trickery” when Nikolai first pulled up to their table.
Nikolai pursed his lips and subtly shook his head as he looked at Ilya.
Ilya blinked, then nodded, once. He bit back the smile forming on his lips.
Nikolai would have to take that as a sign of comprehension. “The Imperial Enchanter is forbidden to use magic now,” he said to Trubetskoy, Volkonsky, and Pestel. “That means Pasha will be forced to travel by carriage. He’ll be exposed.”
Pestel scooted closer to the table. “They’ll use the main road. The alternate routes are nearly impassable in winter.”
“It’s good that we know where they’ll be,” Volkonsky said. “Easier to know where to ambush them.”
“But bad that the weather will be punishing, even on the main road,” Trubetskoy said, tapping his vodka glass. “It will make things difficult for us, too.”
“Still,” Nikolai said, “I like this idea.” He didn’t say that they wouldn’t be entirely on their own, that he had magic to assist them. “Can you work on the details of the battle plan and present it to me soon?”
The four men bowed their heads again. “Of course, Your Imperial Highness.”
“Excellent.” Nikolai poured five shots of vodka.
Ilya raised a glass. “To Karimov and a constitution,” he said quietly.
“To Karimov and a constitution,” Trubetskoy, Volkonsky, and Pestel said.
Nikolai smiled as Aizhana’s black energy simmered inside him. “I like that.” He raised his own glass. “To me. And a constitution.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Vika looked over the granite embankment into Ekaterinsky Canal in the morning light. During the Game, she had enchanted all of Saint Petersburg’s waterways to shift in color—from ruby red to fire-opal orange, then golden citrine, emerald green, sapphire blue, amethyst, then back to red to start the rainbow again—and as winter had set in, the canals and rivers had frozen in whatever color they’d happened to be in. Ekaterinsky Canal, in particular, had iced over in an unflattering hue between yellow and green.
But that wasn’t the only thing Vika noticed. A while ago, Nikolai had changed all the posts into gargoyles, each more monstrous than the next, and their vacant stone eyeballs seemed to shift in their sockets as people passed. Nowadays, the citizens crowded into the center of the streets and alleys to get away from the embankments; some took longer routes in an attempt to avoid walking along the waterways in general. And instead of festive Christmas tinsel tied to the posts, some braver souls had fastened small bundles ofsticks, leaves, and sprigs of winter berries.Poisonousberries. Wards against witchcraft.
Vika’s resolve to do something, rather than wallow in self-pity at home, strengthened. Declaring that magic would no longer be used clearly hadn’t improved much, other than some people had begun to come out from hiding in their houses. A different tactic was needed. Vika just didn’t quite knowwhat.
When she reached the Zakrevsky house—or was it the Karimov house now?—she hesitated in front of the steps. The last time she was here, she’d sent in Poslannik’s army to destroy all of Galina’s and Nikolai’s belongings. She’d left their home in ruins: broken chandeliers, shredded Persian rugs, and most of Nikolai’s wardrobe, eaten through by the moths. Then Vika had run away in cowardly remorse.
She winced. There were so many things wrong with that move. It had been an enormous, multifaceted mistake.
But I’m not that girl anymore,Vika thought as she forced herself up the steps. She still didn’t know who exactly she intended to be, but it wasn’tthatversion of herself. She also knew without a doubt that how she defined herself would involve how she dealt with Nikolai. Even without access to magic, even with her heart wary, she could still feel the string that connected them.
The question was whether she was supposed to destroy him, save him, or rule the empire by his side. This was what Vika hoped to answer if she could see him.
Regardless of the outcome, though, she wouldn’t be subordinate to anyone. Not Nikolai, not Pasha. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have use of magic right now, or that she wasbound by a bracelet.I am Vika Andreyeva, and I am as important as anybody else.
Vika rang the bell and studied the carvings of roses on the door while she waited for an answer. A minute later, a footman opened the door.
“Bonjour,mademoiselle,” he said.
“Bonjour.I’m here to see Nikolai.”
The footman clucked his tongue at her. “His Imperial Highnessis not accepting visitors.”
“Oh, are we doing that now, using formal titles?” Vika bristled. “Then tellHis Imperial Highnessthat theBaronessVictoria Sergeyevna Andreyeva is here to see him.”
The footman blanched. “You’re the witch. You’re the one who made us all sick from the fete.”
“I did no such—”
The footman shut the door in her face.
