Page 23 of The Tsarina's Favorite
“The tsarina would love that, wouldn’t she?”I snorted.“She would probably separate me from my manhood in such an event.”I ran my hands through my hair.“No, things would have to be much different for me to even think about getting married again.And I would have to be an utter fool to consider it.But, now that I’ve said it, watch, something will happen to make me regret my words.But then, I’m better known for my looks than my intelligence.”
Drook laughed and rolled onto his back again.
I glanced at the doorway and miserably contemplated returning to my basket nest.I had no desire to see what tomorrow offered.It would be the same as every other day.I would replace the beak mask and pull up my hood.I would be shunned, and mocked, and treated like dirt beneath their shoes.
“Maybe this won’t be forever,” Drook said from his reclined position.“Maybe she will change her mind.Or forgive you.Or perhaps a change in power will see you free.”
“Maybe,” I agreed.I ran my hand over my chin and decided that shaving could wait until tomorrow night since I did not trust myself with a razor.“But I don’t have much hope.”
He turned his head to glare at me as if he could read the direction of my thoughts.“As long as you’re alive, Kvasnik, there’s always hope.”
VIII.
“Ibrought the plansas you requested, Your Majesty.”
The engineer tugged at his collar and dabbed at his temple.
None of us knew for a fact that something was wrong with the ice palace construction, but we all knew that something was clearly wrong.
With a gesture from the empress, he crossed over to the table where she awaited him.He pulled out several long scrolls from under his arm and laid them to the side.He glanced at one of his party.That man came forward, bowed, and spread the first scroll out with the engineer.They set weights down along the corners, and the engineer went to the tsarina’s side to begin explanation.
The delegation from the worksite milled in the back of the room.Although they were not the laborers who wore a permanent layer of dirt on their clothing, their worn coats and cloaks offered a muted palette not often seen at the palace.I alone rivaled them for the most brown in the room.
“I don’t care how you do it,” the tsarina said, her attention on her project, “but I want the foundation ready by the time the Talvian Ambassador comes next month.”
Countess Ekaterina, presiding over the tsarina’s group of ladies in the absence of Princess Alaina, took a pastry from the communal tray and then held her glass out.I withdrew from my corner to refill her cup with kvass.No one paid me mind with the attention on the tsarina’s grand undertaking and its trials.
“—and we’ve reinforced the retaining wall on the north side six times already.”
“Could you have built it upon a Kind and Fair mound?”the tsarina asked.“There are many of those along the river.”
The second man opened another few scrolls and held them down by reshuffling the paperweights.
Their maneuvers reminded me of a war map, pieces sliding along the table in sequences of strategy, a defensive position here, an offensive strike there.I never realized that buildings could get a war map, reinforcement here, new construction there.Could it be used for other things that needed to be tackled, like a life, for example?Could I lay out a timeline of my life with a projection of the next few years and decide where I needed to take a defensive stance versus an offensive one to win — in this case, win back — my life from the tsarina’s ownership like a country under occupation?Maybe the titles and wealth would be lost to me, but I would sacrifice all of that for the true prize of my freedom.
“You wretched thing!”Ekaterina’s folded fan landed a blow against my cheek as she shot up from her chair with her glass of kvass held far out in front of her.The brown liquid dribbled over the edges.“You did that on purpose!”
