Page 40 of Across the Sapphire Sea
Shifting, Valeri wrapped an arm around him. Elias adjusted to lay his head on his bicep. Tucked into Valeri’s side like this had become one of his favorite positions.
“I was the second son of a lord, my father a Russian Boyar, which is like a nobleman, with land and status and all that entails. We had servants to dress us, cook our food, tend to the gardens. It should have been an easy life.”
“It wasn’t?”
“Not for me. Though I suppose compared to yours, my childhood was a dream.”
Elias had already told Valeri of the orphanage he’d grown up in, the abuse he’d suffered there, and of being purchased like a slave by an overlord at only twelve years of age for farm labor. He’d known nothing but depravation and orders. The idea of regular food was mind-boggling, much less a cook to prepare it. He could only imagine.
“My father favored my older brother, Evgeni. Everyone did. Our tutors, cousins, friends. And not because Evgeni was charming or kind, but because he would inherit, and they wanted powerful and wealthy friends. My father groomed him for the title and left me for the nursemaids. Our mother died giving birth to a stillborn baby girl when I was four. I’d have loved a little sister, but it was not to be.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” Valeri sighed. His hand rubbed light circles over the ridges of Elias’s spine absently. “After Mother died, I was well and truly friendless. Evgeni was cruel to me, and Father condoned his behavior, so I’d little recourse but to make myself scarce.”
“What could you have done as a child? Was he much older, your brother?”
“Not so much, three years, but that was enough. He was always bigger, stronger, taller. I’d no chance against him. He had a pack of local boys who thought he could do no wrong. Even the first boy I ever cared for preferred my brother. In the end, I think he was only with me to be closer to Evgeni, but Evgeni never cared for boys that way. He chose women.”
Elias traced Valeri’s collarbone with his fingertips as he listened and wondered what it would be like to have a brother who hated him.
“Our father died suddenly when I was nineteen. He fell from his horse and could not be revived. I wasn’t sad. I didn’t care. He’d never shown me any kindness, and I didn’t think it would matter that he’d died. But before his body was even put to ground, Evgeni made noises of throwing me out, leaving me to starve. I’d no doubt he’d follow through with the threats. So I began sneaking about the estate, pocketing jewels and small things of value to exchange for room and board somewhere until I could establish myself at a trade. I enjoyed working with my hands. I thought perhaps I could apprentice at something. Smithing maybe.”
Elias could not imagine Valeri as a blacksmith. He was too accustomed to finery. What would he look like covered in soot with grit beneath his fingernails?
“At the funeral, there was a man I’d never seen before. He arrived very late and lingered when others began to depart. My brother yelled at me for some infraction I no longer remember. What I do remember is that the stranger saw his tirade, and I was ashamed to have it witnessed. Afterward, my brother stormed off and the stranger approached to talk with me. Offered condolences. But I was rude. I didn’t want to speak to the man who saw my own brother treat me that way. I brushed him off and left.
“The next evening I was in town making preparations to leave before Evgeni had the chance to throw me out. I saw the stranger again. I know now that he’d followed me, but then I thought it a coincidence.”
The stranger, thought Elias. That’s what he’d called Valeri before learning his name. “He was a vampire?”
Valeri patted his side where his hand had come to rest. “Shh, you. You asked for the story, let me tell it in order.”
The tone was teasing, but Elias apologized anyway. He was quite caught up in the tale.
“Yes, he was a vampire, but I didn’t know that yet. I thought him just another wealthy lord. He dressed as one. Carried himself as one. It was the obvious assumption. Some associate of my father’s who would mourn his passing.” At this, Valeri laughed. “Little did I know, he’d shoved my father from that horse.”
Elias’s eyes blazed open. “What?”
“Not that I cared, remember. I had no love for the man.”
“But to murder him? Surely you found that offensive.”
“You’d think, wouldn’t you? But I’ve gotten ahead of myself. I knew nothing of him at the time.”
“So what happened next?”
“He offered to buy me an ale. I declined, but he insisted. I figured, perhaps a connection to this lord would come in handy when I was on my own, so I let him take me to a pub. We drank and spoke. Or rather, I drank, and he spoke.
“After I’d had perhaps one too many, we went out for fresh air. A walk would do me good. Clear my head.
“‘Your brother treats you unfairly,’ said Fedor. I could only agree. ‘You would make a more suitable heir.’ I wasn’t going to argue. ‘I could help you.’ Help me how? I near to laughed in his face. But he didn’t speak in jest. His face was perfectly serious. ‘I could help you, for a price.’”
“For a price?” asked Elias. “That sounds ominous.”
“It was, indeed.”
“Was he offering to kill your brother?”
