Page 110 of The Tsarina's Favorite
“You could have undone this?”Her confession rocked me, although I still only half-believed it.More likely, this was just as everything else, simply another way to hurt me and to keep me bound to her.“You could have granted mercy at any time?”
“I still can.”She took several slow steps toward me.“Renounce her and return to me.I can reinstate you.I can see that you live out the rest of your days in peace and comfort.All of this,” she waved her hand loftily, “will be as if it never happened.”
“What of Alaina?”
“Forget Alaina,” she whispered.“Renounce her.Be mine and be free.”
The offer of release from my shame tempted me far more than I wanted to admit.But I was weak and desperate, and it settled like sweet poison in my ears.I longed for it.And it would have been easy enough to see if she lied.
“I can raise you up again,” she tempted.“I can give you back your titles.I can reunite you with your family.You can live fully once more.”She lowered her voice to a breath.“You can be a man again, Mikhail.”
The use of my old name pulled me from the spell of her offer.I wasn’t Mikhail.I was Kaylay, as my beloved had named me.And there was no abandoning Alaina now.What I wanted didn’t matter.And if embracing my changed form meant keeping her safe, then I would cling to it until death separated me from it.
“What do you say?”she asked.
The tsarina may not have been old in years, but she was old in manipulation.Her tired, sagging face and swathes of graying hair spoke of malice far beyond her age.Her desperation in wanting something she could never have etched weary lines along her eyes and mouth.Even when she took it by force, she could not possess it.
I recalled her in earlier days when I had lain with her, when I could not find the strength to refuse.Life had knocked her about like a ship in a storm even then, and she had struggled to find safe harbor.Though no beauty or wit, I had admired her strength and resilience then.I appreciated her will.She had smiled then at times, laughed too without motive, and if not cared about me, pretended to care convincingly enough that I had never considered she would turn on me with such hatred.She rarely smiled now and almost never laughed, both touched with bitterness and mockery when she indulged in either.Once vibrant and hopeful, her shine had abandoned her.Cruelty dulled whatever was left.Her finery, all glitter and sparkle, drowned the woman out.
I had become a monster, and I learned the harsh lesson of my worthlessness with it.But I had still managed to hold onto my soul.When had the tsarina become the real monster?
I could do nothing but pity her.Alaina would never declare her love for me now, but she would willingly hold my hand through death itself.Even human, the tsarina would never have that.
“That is a generous offer,” I said.“But I would rather die a monster in her arms than live as a man in yours.”
Several months prior, I would have caused as much havoc and mayhem as I could manage.I would have fought and struggled and made the guards regret every decision that led to them being the ones keeping me in custody.I would have broken their bones, torn their uniforms, and given them reason for sufficient wariness without revealing any of my higher faculties.
Instead, today, I assured them I would not offer any opposition.My voice and my docility unnerved them more than any disobedience ever could.Though charged with ensuring my compliance, they withdrew to some small distance once in the ceremonial hall where the wedding would occur.
Nearly as dense as the crowds out in the cold, the courtiers packed into the expansive room to witness the strange amusement the tsarina had arranged for them.While my appearance offered no novelty of amusement, the wedding of such an ill-favored creature to one of their own ranks promised the cruel titillation my own divestment of titles had provided.Their voices raised with tension and excitement, no spectator paused to acknowledge my arrival unless to point it out to their companions.
“The wedding of a maiden to a monster,” said a voice behind me.A moment later, Drook stood at my side.“It seems worthy of a poem.”
“Neither of us is a maiden,” I responded reflexively.
He laughed and grinned up at me.“I knew it.”
I glanced down at him.“That I wasn’t a maiden?”
“That you were more intelligent than you let on.”
“I’m not.I’m getting married again, aren’t I?”
I had not meant to say it, but I fell into easy conversational stride with Drook.I had never been able to keep my mouth in check.
His grin faltered.His dark-eyed intensity took in my full measure before a flicker of recognition crossed his face.
“Kvasnik?”He didn’t wait for my reply before he grabbed his hat and threw it on the floor.He unleashed a string of profanities in Varnasian.“Klessa was right.Klessa is always right.And now I’ll have to tell her.”
I crouched down.“Klessa guessed?”
“I told her it was impossible.”He studied me again and grabbed my shoulders.“But how?This is no costume.”
“She has means of permanence outside of a seamstress’ needle.”I could have called it magic.I could have described her reliance on The Kind and Fair.I could have said a hundred different things more direct.But even to me, who had worn the effects of it, it sounded fantastical.“Forgive me.I could not safely tell you sooner.”
He grabbed me into his arms and held me with a grip I could not dislodge had I been inclined.I embraced him in return, content now that I had set down the burden of deceiving my friends.
“The princess cannot know,” I said.
