Page 25 of The Tsarina's Favorite
IX.
“Ilike the tunic.”Drook rubbed a stretch of gold braid between his fingers.“Good quality.”
“It hides the stains,” I admitted, not as appreciative as he was.
When the tsarina suggested doing something about my costume, I had hoped it would be to replace it with something different.Or, if not that, that I might be refitted with a new and therefore clean version of my current costume.Instead, the tsarina had a servant futilely attempt to clean it and the seamstress restuff it.Ultimately, the seamstress provided a tunic to go over the costume, making it bulkier, heavier, and tighter than before.
“You look splendid,” Klessa said, smoothing down several of the collar feathers and straightening the belled ribbons.She inspected my healing wounds too.“Ready for tonight?”
“It will be the same as any other.”I glanced around the ballroom at those who merited an invitation to the reception but not the dinner.They drank wine and examined their fingernails while they barely held conversations, all of them awaiting the arrival of the rest of the party.“I will be shown off, told to perform some humiliating tasks — only this time for the Talvian ambassador — and then expected to sit in my basket unless the tsarina desires some kvass.”
“Has she told you to sit in the basket?”
“It’s usual.”
“Unless she has given you specific instructions, you can do what you like,” Drook said.“It’s a party and you’re a jester.Mingle.Tell a dirty joke.Start an absurd rumor or two.”
“Or just be your charming self and do whatever you would have without a costume,” Klessa said pointedly, frowning at Drook’s suggestions.“Even if you’re no longer a prince in title, you are still you.You could even ask a lady sitting on the side to dance.She might say no, but....”Klessa shrugged.“Would anyone have turned you down before?”
Klessa’s optimism, though appreciated, did not take into account how fragile reputation could be.I could not foresee anyone wanting to be within a few feet of me, let alone agreeing to anything more.And my dancing, even if someone should agree, would be beyond awkward in a costume not meant to offer much movement.
I glanced across the room, and Agara waved at me from her cluster of friends as we all waited for the rest of the nobles to filter in.
As if on cue, the doors above the ballroom opened and the tsarina led the throng with the ambassador at her side, his red satin sash brilliant in the reflected light.The room exploded into chatter and echoes of chatter as other brightly colored outfits piled up in the doorway and spread to the stairs, announcements made from the balcony as couples descended.
My group all bowed as the tsarina passed, and I breathed slightly more easily when she failed to notice me.Her attentions focused upon someone else tonight.
Nobles who trailed behind her did not overlook us, many of them not residents of the palace and therefore unfamiliar with our appearances.They gaped and made comments to each other, and Drook warmed to it, bowing deeply with his red tricorn hat, diverting most of the attention with the beginning of a convoluted story that would doubtless end in some filthy absurdity.
“And what are you supposed to be?”a woman wearing a badly applied wig asked of Klessa.“Some kind of lady?”
“She’s more of a lady than you are.”I stepped between them.“At least she knows how to wear her hair.”
The woman took several steps back.“And what, you’re her personal chicken guard?”
“Clearly, you’ve never seen how nasty a rooster can be when defending the ladies.”
The woman huffed and left us.
“You don’t have to defend me.”Klessa patted my shoulder.“I’ve been dealing with this my whole life.”
“You told me to do whatever I would should I not be wearing a costume.I would never have tolerated such incivility to a lady in my presence, and I will not begin now.”
“Go practice your charms on someone else, Kvasnik.I already know what a gem you are.Show others.Shine.”Klessa lowered her voice.“It will drive the tsarina mad.”
When she shooed me off, I wandered through the hall, identifying people who hadn’t been witness to my humiliation.Most of them I knew, and I did not wish to call further attention to my new status.
“It’s Mikhail,” someone said loudly to my side.I debated whether I should acknowledge it or pretend that I hadn’t heard it.I chose to ignore it.Moments later, ladies surrounded me, most of them from court, but they had brought other friends over, friends who did not live at the palace and therefore had not seen my disgrace.
I straightened my back and waited.
“We heard you insulted Lady Pochenka,” Countess Ekaterina said.
