Page 109 of The Tsarina's Favorite
XXXII.
Alexei, young thoughhe was, stood up with me when I wed Marfa, my mother onlooking and expectant.Marfa’s family too, onlooking and expectant.Neither Marfa nor I had been asked if we wanted to marry.State marriages were like that.And though not as young as she, I still shifted nervously from foot to foot with all eyes on us.There had been no competition for Marfa.Though well-connected and noble, I had been the prize in that arrangement — the elder Karilitsyn prince who would inherit the wealth and the estate.And as such, ladies and their parents alike had vied for the place of prominence in my family’s favor.And it had not hurt that those of court found me favorable in looks and demeanor, even if I did not possess the ambitions of my esteemed and lauded uncles and forefathers.
Marfa, poor Marfa, shook that day, terrified of the attention and of her unknown groom.The beads of her kokoshnik trembled, and she did not look up at me once throughout the ceremony.Her voice barely reached above a whisper when called upon to answer the questions of the diviner.The white silk cord that bound our hands together at the end of the ceremony formed the only point of contact she maintained with me that day.
I found out later that she had spent the days leading up to our marriage weeping.There were no other sweethearts or attachments, no others that she might have preferred, but our wedding night remained unconsummated as we navigated our awkwardness and the empty expectations of others together.The vodka of the celebrations had resolved us both enough to go through with it if we had no other choice, but we remained clothed in our nightshirts as we turned to hot spiced wine to get us through the cold discomfort of transforming from strangers to spouses.
Although no love match or great sympathy of souls, Marfa and I did find our way.Almost a decade together, we had seen much and been through more.We had lost two children, a grief no title or wealth could relieve.And until the day she died, I had been faithful to her.
As the head of the family at that point, I possessed the luxury to take my time and make a careful choice when finally inspired to consider remarriage.Except that I didn’t.
Irena dazzled me.Her charm, her wit, her beauty offered everything I couldn’t have with Marfa.She promised a fairytale romance that I could only dream about as a young man, showing me the love that should have been, and could have been, if not for the demands of state and family.Our wedding was small, just her family in attendance, and for two perfect years, we enjoyed our relative anonymity while we desperately tried to start a family.And where I had been loyal to Marfa, no other woman existed in the world outside of Irena.
After Irena, that was it.I expected Alexei to be my successor and his children my inheritors.I expected to live out my days a wandering widower, restless, lonely, and occasionally seeking solace in the arms of someone I could pretend was Irena.
I never expected to marry yet again.
“Contemplating your nuptial bliss?”
My back stiffened with the tsarina’s question.I did not turn though.I slid Alaina’s ring from my finger and tucked it in the leather band on my wrist lest the tsarina take this one from me too.I pointedly watched the crowds from the window, a sea of faceless nameless people outside the gates of the palace, the promised processional path obscured by the fur-clad city inhabitants.
“Did you have the same turnout for your wedding procession?”I asked her.When she did not answer, I turned around.“Do your thoughts not turn to Frederick at such a time?”
“I have arranged a wedding just as elaborate and public as mine.I have spared no expense to give my favorite the wedding he deserves since I wasn’t there to approve the last.My apologies about the bride though.Funny how someone renowned for his beauty is going to marry the ugliest woman at court.”
I swallowed back the observation that the tsarina would have had to be the bride for that to be true.
“Spare the princess,” I asked.“Your objection is with me.If the price of my life will content you, then have it.But you do not need hers.”
“Your life is in peril, and yet you speak of her.”
“What have I to gain by a pardon?”I spread my arms out to show what she had made of me.Granted, I wore the luxurious robe Alaina gifted me, which elevated me beyond the condition the tsarina kept me, but I was still as the tsarina had made me after the game she forced me to play.“Continued existence like this?Nay.I shall welcome death like a brother.”
“You could always renounce her,” the tsarina suggested.
“And why would I do that?”
“Because I could free you.”
Her admission rang like falsehood.She had to be lying.
“You told me that you could not,” I reminded her.
“As if you have never lied to me either.”
