Page 125 of The Tsarina's Favorite
“There is no one better, not for me.”At my silence, she rose and kissed the spot behind my right ear.“I meant it when I said it.I love you.”
“I don’t see how you can.”
Alaina stood and swept her skirts around me.She arranged them and then sat on the floor again, this time in front of me, fluffing up the pink satin layer of skirt like a flower unfurling its petals.Her long dark hair, loose and silky, draped her shoulders like an exquisite shawl.
I turned the left side of my face away from her.
“Kaylay,” she said in her haughty princess voice, “do you know how insulting it is to think that I only care about you for your looks?”
“You should care.”I was unrepentant.I certainly cared about them.“I will not ruin the rest of your life by holding you to a marriage that was arranged out of malice and cruelty.You do not owe me that.And if I saved your life, then you must share it with someone worthy, someone who will be a credit to you.That is the extent of your debt.”
Selflessness was not my intention.I wanted to be her husband, to live in ecstatic bliss together in Altania and make up for every indignity we had suffered.I wanted to drown her in kisses and adoration.I wanted to worship her in every way I could.I wanted to beg her to love me as I loved her, wholly and completely.
But I knew the world.I knew her world.Her reputation, her future, and her throne would surely suffer if she honored a marriage to a man who had lost everything that might have made him suitable.
She took my left hand, bandaged as it was, and raised it to her mouth.She kissed it.“You are someone worthy.”
“I have been reduced to an ornament, a curiosity, an amusement.I have no value.”
Did she know how it hurt or what it cost me to verbalize my greatest insecurity?
She grabbed my chin as she had once done with a beak and forced me to look at her.I did not pull away.If she wanted to view the ruin of my face, then so be it.Maybe she would come to her senses if she looked long enough upon the truth.
“You are more than what the tsarina would have you believe,” Alaina insisted.“Did the last year teach you nothing?”
“It taught me that I am disposable.”I stared straight back at her.“It taught me that I can work hard, do all the right things, and still end up with nothing.It taught me that the things I have always wanted most in this world are not meant for me.”
“If you still had feathers, I would pluck one out for such a defeatist answer.”
“Alaina, please, look at me.Truly look at me.This,” I gestured to my face, “won’t get better.”
“Yes,” she said thoughtfully after a good long moment of looking.“You are as ugly as I expected.My opinion hasn’t changed on that.”
“And you,” I said, realizing her game and surrendering to it, “are still the size of a twig.”An amusing thought pulled up one side of my mouth.“No.I’ve thought better of it.You are more the size of a fifth nested doll in a matryoshka.”
She dropped my chin and cupped her hands around my face.She bent my head down and kissed my brow as she had done so many times before.
“I love you.All of you.”She pressed her lips to my forehead.“Your wounds are honorable.”She pressed her lips to my temple.“And noble.”She pressed her lips to my cheek.“And beautiful.”She kissed the bridge of my nose, where it healed after being broken.
She had never kissed me with a real face before, and now she never would.
“Why don’t you want to be my husband?”
“I cannot face court again,” I admitted.“I’ve had my fill of being the brunt of every joke and the subject of every insult.If I had my wish, I would fade into obscurity somewhere and never have to be in the public eye.I’m not strong enough to withstand the Altanian court finding fault with me at every turn.”
“Unfortunately, being my husband does mean being at court.”She fiddled with her hair for a moment before sweeping a large section behind her shoulder.“But Altania is different than Ilyichia.It’s warmer,” she said, knowing how much weight I put in that.“And I will not tolerate anyone treating you as less than.”
“But I am less th—” I broke off, my attention caught by a bandage on her chest, visible now with her hair brushed aside.“You told me you were well,” I accused.
“And I am!”
“That’s a wound, princess.”
“Yes.And,” she said, brushing her hand over the bandage, “it’s probably going to scar.”
My throat constricted.
“Don’t you dare blame yourself for it,” she threatened.“I went through that ordeal too.And I’m going to wear my scar proudly.I earned it.After all, I couldn’t let you get all the glory.”
