Page 63 of The Tsarina's Favorite
“Mikalay,” Alaina repeated, deliberate in its pronunciation.“That doesn’t sound Ilyichian.”
“It’s not.”
“Did the tsarina name you?”
“No.”
“That explains it.Most of the tsarina’s menagerie have more traditional names.Even the elephant is named Ivan.”
“She has an elephant?”
“A gift from a visiting dignitary.”
“I’ve never seen an elephant,” I confessed.“They are the kind of animal you hear about but only half believe is real.”
“If I visited Ivan and told him that I frequently converse with a firebird, he might disbelieve in you too.”
That thought amused me.
“Are you smiling?”she asked.
“I don’t think so.”I didn’t think I could with a beak.
“You were definitely smiling,” she insisted.“Maybe not like others do, but I know your eyes now.”
I didn’t want her looking too closely at my eyes.They wept more than any bird’s should.
“You do have beautiful eyes,” she added.
“I bet you say that to all the birds.”
“I’ve never said it to anyone.Ever.”
And this time, it wasn’t foolish flattery from someone wanting something from me.She had nothing to gain because I had nothing to offer.And she never shied away from calling me ugly, so I could only suppose that she actually meant it.
“Then,” I said, taking a deep breath, “thank you, Alaina.For everything.”
