Page 1 of The Tsarina's Favorite
I.
Ishould have beenafforded a change of clothing and some small allowance of hygiene before being presented to the empress.How kindly could she possibly look upon me if I did not offer her the version of me she preferred?The bedraggled, sleep-deprived, filthy cell-resident ill-fitted with the standard she demanded of court.Maybe, however, my pathetic state might inspire sympathy and mercy.Sympathy and mercy for what transgression, I had no idea, but the charge little mattered when the tsarina could perceive anything as a slight.
The other nobility avoided me and my guards as we paraded through the halls.I purposely avoided gazing into any of the mirrors that lined the walls, certain that I did not wish to see any reflection of mine in this sorry state.Maybe a good clean would be my last request, if indeed whatever my transgression was merited a last request.Surely, the empress couldn’t deny me that?
When we entered the long hall of the audience chamber, my escorts paused with me.No one paid mind to our little group.Advisors and attendants swarmed around the tsarina at the far end of the hall.Courtiers occupied the edges of the cluster, creating a less dense but no less intent layer of devotees.Smaller groups in smaller clusters dispersed beyond that layer.
Alexei slipped out from his group when he saw me, careful not to draw the attention of the others.His urgent stride carried him over to us in less than ten paces, his robes flying behind him in a style more dramatic than he likely wished while trying to be covert.
“Mikhail,” he whispered, his panic evident despite the lowered tone, “I thought you were in Varnasia.You look a mess!”
No one would have known that my cravat had once been of the finest Jeanvian white lace, tatted by the reclusive residents of the Great Holy fortress, Our Lady of Weeping.No one would have guessed that my shirt had been composed of the finest Nypatian linen and hand-stitched by Varnasian master tailors.The fabrics had browned by grime and body oil.Fleas and lice would have found an admirable home in my current ensemble.I denounced my brilliant blue coat as a lost cause with the gash in the shoulder from rough handling.My shoes, scuffed beyond repair, might also get tossed into a fire when I finally procured another pair.
“My apologies for not changing into a new shirt before my arrival,” I shot back at my brother.“My company,” I directed my eyes askance to the guards, “couldn’t wait.”
Alexei turned his attention to the guards.“Is there a charge?”
The guard addressed only said, “The empress requested Prince Mikhail’s presence.”
“It’s not uncle this time,” Alexei said to me.“She had him executed while you were gone.”
“It could be anything.”
“Not anything serious,” he insisted.“She was likely in one of her moods.”
Her moods.About anyone else, I might have quibbled as we all had moods, but the tsarina had power to accompany them, and that boded ill for all.
A call from the other end of the chamber echoed around the room.
“Prince Mikhail!”
Everyone’s attention, not just mine, fixed all the harder upon the tsarina.She rose from her throne, her satin skirts billowing out and shining like mirrors themselves.She caught up one side with her left hand and descended the dais almost in a hurry.The layers of assembled persons peeled away as she progressed through the crowd, the instinctive choreography of her subjects offering her an expansive corridor through the middle of the room.
Alexei retreated from my side.
“Mikhail!”The empress moved as if to embrace me and then stopped just a few steps in front of me, thinking better of it.“What a state you are in!”
“The laundering services are sorely lacking in prison, Your Majesty.”
She laughed and held out her hand for me to kiss.
I stepped forward, took her hand, and bowed, kissing the back of it as silently instructed to do.
“I should have thought to get you a change of clothing.Still, I shall see to it forthwith.”She waved off my guards, glanced over her shoulder, and addressed the crowd.“I shall return.”
She began walking out the doorway through which I had just arrived and beckoned me to join her.I glanced at Alexei, and he glanced at me, both sets of our brows lifting in apprehension.Still, I followed, and she grabbed my arm once we were out of the main audience chamber.
“You have been gone forever,” she chided me.
“Five years only.”
“That’s forever,” she insisted.“So much has happened.”
“I heard about your nephew passing.I’m so very sorry.”
“I’m stuck with his wife, though.”
“She’s Altanian.Send her home.”
