Queen of Someday (13 page)

“Then what?” I ask nervously.

She begins a detailed plan of seduction. We discuss everything from flirting to how to take a man’s clothes off without tangling him up in them. Half the time I’m blushing, the other half of the time, I’m laughing until my sides hurt as she relays some of her favorite stories.

“I hope this was helpful,” she says kindly.

I have to admit, it really was. I feel different, confident somehow, in a way I never have before.

“How many lessons shall we have?” I ask, finishing the last of my wine and feeling a bit light-headed.

“However many you feel you need. Though at least two more. We still need to discuss ways to help you get yourself with child,” she says with a smile.

With Peter’s child, she means. My heart sinks. Will Alexander love me still when I’m fat with another man’s child? The thought is too awful and I push it aside, suddenly eager to leave the room.

No sooner am I in the hall than Sergei sweeps by, taking me by the arm abruptly. We stop in a small alcove, and he presses me against the wall gently.

“I know the truth,” he says in hushed, but angry tone, a slip of paper clutched in his hand. For one awful moment, I think he’s talking about Alexander.

“I know who poisoned you,” he says, seeing my confusion.

“Oh,” I mutter, relief flooding through me. “Who was it?”

He frowns, checking over his shoulders to make sure no one else is around.

“It was that bastard Bestuzhev. He and The Duke of Dresden plotted together. They knew that by eliminating you, the empress would have no choice but to choose Charlotte as Peter’s bride.”

I swallow the information, not nearly as surprised or as angry about it as I should be.

“Bestuzhev is her closest advisor. He can get to me at any time, and next time, he will be sure to get it right,” I say slowly, trying not to sound as afraid as I suddenly feel.

Sergei pulls me into his arms and crushes me in an embrace, which I return. He is firm and solid, the one and only thing I can truly rely on in this place. Pulling back, he takes me by the shoulders. “I swear that I will not let anything happen to you. The empress is on her way back now. As soon as she arrives, I will see her and present her with my evidence. He will be gone before he can even try to strike at you again.”

I nod, and he releases me.

“For now, just go back to your rooms and try to stay calm. One more night and we can put all this behind us,” he promises before bowing and briskly heading down the hall.

I turn toward my room, then change my mind and head to the secret room.

It’s hours before Alexander arrives and when he does, I’m standing in front of the altar, collecting my thoughts. As soon as I hear the door open, I turn, standing straight and still as he enters.

“What’s happened?” he asks, his voice wavering.

“Sergei found evidence of who tried to kill me; it was Bestuzhev,” I say flatly.

Alexander’s face flushes. “I’ll kill him.”

I hold up a hand. “No, you won’t. You will let the empress and Sergei deal with it. I won’t risk losing you over this. What’s done is done, and besides,” I walk toward him slowly, reaching out to touch his face, “if he hadn’t done it, how would we ever have found each other?”

He grabs my hand. “You almost died.”

I lift my head, my voice steady.

“And I would do it again. I would die a thousand times, if each time I could wake up to your face.”

He turns away, shaking his head.

“Don’t say that. Please.”

“It’s the truth,” I say softly.

“That doesn’t make it easier to hear.”

I wrap my arms around my waist, holding myself. His tone is defeated. I sense that he, too, has realized the hopelessness of our situation.

“Peter and the empress will be back at court tomorrow. As soon as they arrive, Bestuzhev will be locked away and my official conversion ceremony will take place the following day. I expect the empress will make mine and Peter’s betrothal official shortly after,” I recite, as if it were a shopping list rather than life-changing events.

“And you will marry him?” Alexander asks, turning to look at me.

My heart sinks.

“Offer me another option,” I challenge.

He nods, stepping forward, and takes my hands.

“I’ve written to my father. My family—we lack title but have wealth enough. He would support our marriage.”

I’m shocked to hear it.

“Really? But my engagement to Peter…?”

“Isn’t official. The possibility of it hasn’t even reached his ears. All he knows is that you are a visiting princess, and that I have fallen quite madly in love with you.”

“And my family?”

He frowns. “I do not know what King Fredrick’s reaction will be, only that my father assures me that he will send whatever he can to help them along.”

It’s a gamble at best. Frederick may be so angered that he strips them of everything, or he may wash his hands of the matter entirely and not retaliate at all.

“What would I tell the empress?”

My mind whirls with the possibilities. The empress is fond enough of me; perhaps if I bring her the truth, that my heart lies with another, perhaps she will release me. And Sergei, sweet, kind Sergei, who has risked so much to be my defender here, what about him?

“I think the best thing would be if we left without telling anyone.”

I rear back, shocked by the idea.

“You mean run away? You are suggesting that we run away together?”

He smirks. “Consider it eagerly vacating.”

I sigh deeply, falling to my knees.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admit weakly.

He sits beside me, and I rest my head against his shoulder.

“If you can’t, or if you decide you don’t want to, I just want you to know I won’t be angry. I won’t blame you and I won’t ever, ever leave you.” He takes my hand, our fingers entwining. “I love you. No matter what.”

“There you go, offering to be my mistress again,” I say, trying to feign humor in the dreadful situation.

“You say it as if it’s a joke. But I am yours, in any way you will have me. I will be your mistress if I must, but I would rather be your husband.”

I sit up, forcing myself to look at him. There’s no trace of doubt that I love him. But did I love him enough to risk everything, my family, my own life if we’re caught?

Yes. There’s no doubt. It’s reckless and selfish and for the life of me, I can’t force myself to care. I need to be with him like I need air in my lungs. And I would risk all that and more for even the slightest chance that we might have a life together.

“This is insanity,” I say with a laugh, my decision made.

His expression changes, and I watch as his eyes fill with joy as he realizes what I’m saying. Moving to his knees in front of me, he clutches my hand to his chest.

“Sophie, queen of my heart, will you marry me?”

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I lunge forward, wrapping my arms around him and closing the distance between us.

“Yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

He kisses me, urgently, passionately. Heat boils up inside me until I think I might burst into flames from it. He slips my gown down, just off my shoulder, and kisses the skin there, tracing the lines with his lips. I moan, unable to help myself. This is what Madame Groot was talking about before, about turning yourself over to the pleasure. I knew there would never be any pain with Alexander. He would wrap me in his arms and drive away the fear until this was all that remained—the raw, driving need.

He slides one hand up my leg, under my gown, and I’m barely able to regain my wits long enough to stop him.

“Wait,” I whisper.

He nods, burying his face in my hair, panting heavily. Drawing back, he cups my face in his hand.

“Soon, we will be married and there will be no more waiting.”

I turn my chin, kissing his palm.

“I long for that day,” I say honestly, curling up in his arms.

I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until the faint rings of the church bells rouse me. I count the chimes.

Eight. No, nine!

I jerk myself upright. Beside me, Alexander stirs.

“What is it?”

I leap to my feet. “It’s nine. The empress will be here any time.” I frantically tug at my gown, which is rumpled beyond salvage. “Oh no, my ladies will see I’ve not been to my bed this evening. Oh, the maids will talk—”

He stands, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my neck.

“Calm down. I’ll leave first. You wait a few minutes, and then follow me out. Go straight to your room, and if anyone sees you, tell them you walked the halls all night, that you were too excited to sleep.” In one smooth motion, he grabs my hips and spins me to face him. “Sophie, this only works if we get out of here before the official betrothal. We need to be careful, especially now that Peter is returning. If he thinks for a moment that you are slipping from his grasp…”

He lets that hang between us. The fact is Peter is so volatile, anything could happen.

“I’ll leave you a letter in the book, so you know where and when to meet me. Be ready. By this time next week, we will be safely in Stockholm, and happily married.” He kisses me quickly and leaves. I take a few minutes to smooth my gown and adjust my hair before following.

I manage to make it back to my room without being seen by anyone but the servants, a small miracle. But when I open the door to my rooms, what I see nearly makes me tumble. There, in a heavy, red gown, is my mother. She holds her arms out for me.

“Ah, my daughter. So good to see you well,” she says, her voice high and thin. I glance over to Rina, who is standing by my door.

“My lady, back from your walk so soon?” she says gently. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

I nod, silently thanking her with my eyes. As soon as I walk over, she bends down, whispering, “I tossed your blankets about before the maids came.”

“Thank you,” I mutter again.

“Mother,” I say, turning to face her. “What brings you back to court? The empress told me you’d been sent away. Are you back to spy for King Fredrick some more?”

She flicks her hand as if it was nothing rather than treason—an offence the empress could have her put to death for.

“The empress has been kind enough to request my presence at your official betrothal.”

I force a smile but say nothing.

“She’s sent for your little brother as well, but your father has refused to allow him to come. He says the boy is unwell; I think he just doesn’t want to be separated from his precious heir.”

Her tone is curt and condescending, and it immediately makes me angry. Any concern I may have had over her well-being once I fled court was replaced by coldness. I point to her trunk on the floor. No doubt, it’s full of new gowns and jewels purchased with her treasonous money from the Prussian King.

“You needn’t bother unpacking,” I tell her flatly. “As soon as the engagement is formalized, your presence here will no longer be required.”

She looks at me, her mouth falling into a stunned oh.

“Well, your time in Russia certainly hasn’t improved your manners, now has it?” She straightens her back, looking affronted. “Still, I am your mother and I will remain—”

“You will go as I tell you to. Your being here upsets the empress, and it upsets me. Go back to Prussia and do not return.”

I motion for Rina.

“Rina, this gown is far too bland to welcome Peter home in. Please, come and help me change.” I keep my voice calm, though anger is filling me. Mother’s presence isn’t simple a nuisance, but it will be an unwelcome complication to my plans. I want her safely away before I flee with Alexander, far from the rage I’m sure the empress will be feeling.

Rina helps me change in the privacy of my own room.

“Thank you so much,” I say softly once we’re alone.

She smirks. “Do I dare ask what kept you from your bed last night?”

I shrug, determined not to let her see my flush.

“I was too anxious to sleep, so I went for a walk. I ended up in the library and fell asleep reading there. It was silly,” I lie smoothly. Much as I was growing to love Rina, I had no desire to put her in the middle of this business. Plus, that way when I’m found missing and they question her about it, her ignorance will be genuine.

No, the only person I will truly miss is dear, sweet Sergei. My friend and ally. I hate knowing the trouble my departure will cause. But he will understand, as surely as anyone, why I could not stay. Once I’m safely in Sweden, I will send him a letter with my apologies.

Once I’m dressed, my ladies, my mother, and I retire to the grand rotunda, to wait for word of the empress’ return. When we arrive, I see Sergei and Alexander chatting near the door. Both of my handsome men are looking relaxed and jovial, though I know each of them well enough to read their subtle tensions. Alexander clutches the lapel of his dark brown jacket and Sergei’s jaw is tight even as he speaks, betraying their true emotions.

I sit with my ladies and strike up a game of cards. Soon, the trumpets blare and the valet announces the empress has arrived. We dutifully file out into the courtyard. The snow has melted away since I’ve been ill, replaced by lush green grass and fresh blossoms in the flowerbeds. Red-and-gold flags are driven into the ground, creating a pathway to the door. We take our places in line and I can’t help but sneak a glance at Alexander, who stands across from me. Trumpets ring out again as the empress, never one to ride in a carriage, strides up on the back of her tall, black stallion and dismounts. Her riding habit is the same as a military officer’s, only in deep blue and gold rather than the military-issue red. She pulls the gloves from her fingers and walks up the procession line, each of us bow or curtsy deeply as she passes.

I see Sergei break the line and follow her inside, no doubt wanting to speak with her immediately. The carriage pulls up next, and Count Lestocq and Chancellor Bestuzhev step out in all their finery. Lestocq is wearing a long, sky blue Caftan with lace and silver embroidery, and Bestuzhev is trailing behind him in flowing robes of gold. Neither of them looks happy as they approach the palace. Three horses arrive next, one carrying a breathless, disheveled-looking Peter, one carrying Mikhail, and one carrying a young man I don’t recognize. Peter catches sight of me in the crowd and practically leaps from his horse. Rushing over to me, he lifts me by the waist and spins me high into the air.

“My lovely Sophie, I am so glad to see you well.”

“And I am glad to see you safely returned,” I reply, unable to muster any enthusiasm at all.

“Have you heard the news? My aunt has finally sent that dreadful Saxon and her lot back to Austria.”

I nod, letting him lead me to the door. “I believe I had heard something about that,” I say.

Peter pauses to clasp hands with Alexander.

“My friend, my brother. I’m so glad to be back in your company,” Peter greets him warmly.

Alexander smiles. “The palace wasn’t the same without you. How went the hunt?”

Peter ushers us all inside.

“Unsuccessful, if you must know. Dreadfully dull, Moscow. Not a stag to be found. Though, the drinking was vastly improved.”

Peter turns to me, “And you, My Princess. Last I heard, you were at the very cusp of death. A miracle, I think? Just further proof that even God himself wants to see you become my wife.”

“It must be so,” I say without inflection.

A thundering crash draws my eyes up from the floor. Peter and Alexander exchange a look and rush toward the sound, with me not far behind. We turn the corner to find two guards grappling with the chancellor.

“Your Majesty, please. Forgive me. I was thinking only of you and the good of your kingdom!”

“Take him to the dungeon,” the empress yells, her face flushed with rage.

Peter steps into the room, Alexander at his back.

“Aunt? What has happened?”

She spares a glance at Sergei, who answers for her.

“Evidence was found that implicates the chancellor in a plot to kill Sophie.”

The empress smoothes her hand down her stomach.

“It seems it was not a common illness that almost took our darling princess, but the wicked scheming of men. Bestuzhev had her poisoned in hopes of seeing the alliance with Prussia fail.”

Peter’s eyes widen and without another word, he storms from the room. Alexander follows him. I wish I could count on Alexander to cool Peter’s rage, but I know that he is harboring his own desire to see the chancellor burn for what he’s done.

The empress looks at me.

“I’m sorry, dear, for what harm has befallen you while in my care.”

I bow my head. “These things were not your doing, Empress. I know that. I know you have affection for me and would never wish me any harm.”

Crossing the room, she takes my hands.

“Sweet, strong, brave girl. You remind me so much of myself at your age. Clever beyond expectation and levelheaded. You are exactly what I would have wished for in a child of my own, had I been so blessed.”

She kisses my forehead gently and steps back.

“I hear you are ready to go ahead with the conversion?”

I nod again. “Yes. I only waited for your return, that you might stand as a witness for me.”

She looks genuinely touched at my request. “Of course I will.”

I move to leave, but one other thought strikes me.

“One last thing, Your Majesty.”

She looks at me expectantly.

“My mother—I appreciate your forgiveness for her misdeeds and for allowing her back to court. But I think it best if she leaves. Immediately.”

The expression of surprise on the empress’ face is sincere.

“You do not wish to have your mother here for your wedding?”

I square my shoulders, and answer in my best, official tone.

“She has disgraced herself, and by extension, me. I do not trust her not to repeat her mistakes and, to be frank, she has never been a true mother to me. I often wonder if she feels any affection for me at all.”

I watch as the empress’ countenance changes, softening at my words.

“I will see her sent away tomorrow, immediately after the ceremony. And then, the day after, we will make the official announcement of your engagement to Peter. We will have the grandest celebration this palace has seen in years.”

A lump forms in my throat.

“So soon? Surely, you will need time to prepare such an event.”

“Nonsense. I have been preparing this for months, only your illness prevented it happening weeks ago.”

I smile weakly and curtsy, turning to leave.

“Wait,” she calls after me. “I have some matters of state to discuss, and I would like you to stay and witness. Someday, you may have to handle such things—lord knows Peter has no stomach for it—so stay. Listen and learn.”

At her insistence, I take a seat, but I only half pay attention. Everything seems to be shrinking around me, the very walls closing in. It’s all I can do to keep breathing steadily, to keep my hands folded gently instead of curled into nervous fists.