Queen of Someday (15 page)

I pull his hand away.

“What are you doing? Someone will see,” I demand, my voice tight but soft.

He shakes his head. “Peter’s passed out in his bed, and everyone else is at the dance.”

He pulls me close and steals a kiss that makes my stomach tighten, warmth spreading through me.

“Peter tells me that they are announcing the engagement tomorrow?” he asks.

I nod. “The empress doesn’t want to wait.”

He takes my face in his hands.

“Then we must leave tonight. Are you ready?”

“I’ve never been more ready for anything,” I say honestly.

He peeks over his shoulder, making sure no one is around.

“There’s a boat waiting for us at the wharf. Meet me at the stables at midnight, after the grooms have gone for the night. We will have to go on horseback.”

“What shall I bring?”

“As little as possible. Once we are safely away, I will buy you whatever you need. You may be able to send for your things later…” His words linger.

I know why he hesitates. Because he honestly doesn’t know if that will be a possibility. He once compared me to Helen and himself to Paris, now here we were, risking everything for a chance at happiness, for our love—just as they had. There is a real possibility that it may cause an irreparable rift not just between our families and the empress, but between our nations as well. A new Trojan war.

I can only pray we will meet a kinder fate then those Greek lovers.

I hurry back to my room and sit on the end of the bed anxiously. The maids come and I send them away, feigning a headache. Once they are gone, I take my mother’s smallest trunk and topple it on my bed. I stuff the clothes under the covers and pull the blankets up high. Then I take my two favorite gowns, the jewels Mother gave me, and one of the empress’ pins, a pearl snowflake, and set them inside. I set the rest of the gifts out on my table, admittedly sad to leave them behind. I loosen my hair and retie the simple white ribbon.

Then I take a seat in my open window and watch the stars glisten in the sky as I wait.

As soon as the first bell chimes midnight, I light a candle and grab my small case, sneaking as quietly as I can out my door. I hurry down the hall and to the grand staircase, now empty in the middle of the night. In the ballroom, I can hear the maids cleaning after the dance so I double back, going the long way around to avoid being seen. When I push the door open and step outside, I take a deep breath. The air is cool and crisp and holds the promise of freedom. I hurry across the grass to the stable where a single light flickers inside.

As soon as I slide open the stable door, my heart sinks.

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Standing there in the glow of the lantern in the empress, still in her gown from the feast. There are two guards holding Alexander, who has been tied up and gagged. I cry out and reach for him, but the empress grabs a riding crop from the wall and slaps me across the arm with it in one smooth, cruel motion.

“Please, let him go,” I beg.

She steps between us, obscuring him from my view.

“You selfish, stupid girl. What were you thinking?”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself against her wrath.

“I love him,” I say flatly, a challenge in my voice.

The empress folds her arms across her chest.

“And you were willing to throw this all away, everything I’ve done for you, everything I’ve given you, for this boy?”

“Yes,” I say honestly. “Please, don’t hurt him. Haven’t you ever been in love?”

She flicks her hands and the guards carry him away, even as he kicks and rages against his bonds. He’s trying to scream, but I can’t make out his words.

Stepping forward, she grabs me by the throat, nearly lifting me off my feet.

“I offered you my country! My crown! And this is how you repay me?”

I open my mouth to beg on Alexander’s behalf, but I can’t draw breath. I feel sparks firing in my eyes and when she finally releases me, I fall to the straw-covered ground, gasping for breath.

“How far did this go?” she demands, her eyes wide. “Did you sacrifice your virtue to him?”

I shake my head.

She sighs. “Thank goodness for that at least. What you are going to do now is turn around and go back to your room, as if this never happened. Is that clear?”

I shake my head. “Please, don’t hurt Alexander. If you tell Peter, he will kill us both. Please.”

She kicks a pile of manure at me.

“You stupid girl. I won’t tell Peter, but not for your sake or the sake of that ungrateful boy. My house will not suffer such indignity as this. No, you will go back to your room as I said and tomorrow you will make the engagement to Peter official. Is that clear?”

I nod furiously.

She steps forward, using the riding crop to turn my face up to her so she can look in my eyes. “And if you ever even think of doing something so stupid again, or if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will have the boy killed. He and your entire family, and I assure you, it will be a slow, painful death. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good. Now go, before anyone else sees you out of bed.”

I pause, picking up my trunk slowly.

“And Alexander?” I ask weakly.

She sets the crop back on its hook on the wall.

“No harm will come to the boy, so long as you keep your word.”

I don’t know whether I believe her or not, only that I have no choice but to comply.

She calls out after me.

“It’s lucky for you that your lady saw you leaving your chamber tonight and had the good sense to come to me immediately.” She sighs. “Think of the terrible mistake you so narrowly avoided.”

The blood in my veins boils with rage as I return to my chamber, cursing the person responsible for sabotaging my chance at happiness, and praying the empress keeps her word.

When morning comes, the maids find me bleary-eyed and still in my gown from the previous day. They hurry me into a bath and dress me in fresh clothes; they even fuss with my hair since my ladies are conspicuously absent. I can’t help but wonder which of them reported me to the queen. My eyes narrow. Of course it was Elizavetta. Rina may have seen and suspected something, but she never would have betrayed me like that. I stomp over to their room and throw open the door, only to find all their belongings gone.

Had the empress sent them away? Or something much worse? I gather myself enough to go to the library, where I pull the book from its shelf. There’s nothing inside. Frantic, I begin grabbing other books, flipping through the pages, hoping for something, anything, that will tell me that Alexander is all right. But there’s nothing. I shudder, unable to keep the image of the chancellor’s bloody body from my mind. That would be a mercy compared to what Peter would do to him if he found out. I quickly write a note of my own and stick it in the pages of our book.

My eyes are dark and blind, I cannot see; to whom or whither should my darkness flee, but to that light? And who’s light but thee? If I have lost my path, dear lover say. Shall I wander in a doubtful way?

I replace the book on the shelf and steady myself for a moment, trying to smother down the waves of agony rolling through me.

I don’t hear anyone approach, I’m much too lost in my own pain for that.

“Ready for another lesson already?” Sergei’s voice rings though the room, clear as a bell.

I turn and there is light in his face, not a trace of knowledge of my shame. Unable to help myself, I run to him, throwing my arms around his neck. He hesitates only a moment before returning my embrace, and then he sets me back softly.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. If the empress did not tell him, then she would have told no one. And I cannot either, less she find out and takes it out on the people I care about. I take a step back, frowning.

“I’m sorry, Sergei. I only just realized that I am very alone here.”

He tilts his head to the side.

“Not alone. You have me.”

I bite my bottom lip. “No, I cannot have you. Don’t you see? I can’t care for you without putting you in danger. I can’t care for anyone.”

He lowers his chin and whispers, “You needn’t fear Peter’s wrath. I can handle that much, I assure you.”

“Today I become his, his property and possession. There is nothing else for me in this life.”

Reaching out, Sergei takes my hand, but I pull away. If there were even the slightest whisper of impropriety now, with Sergei or anyone at all, the empress would have Alexander’s head, of that I have no doubt.

“Who is this small, broken girl in front of me? Where is the fearless young woman I beheld, standing in the snow, knife in hand, ready to fight to her last breath?”

I frown.

“She’s gone. Killed by this place.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. You, Sophie, are a fighter. Don’t stop fighting now. I know things seem dark, but that is when you must fight the hardest.”

“What if I have nothing left to fight for?” I say, my voice shaking.

“Then you fight until you find something to fight for. But the moment you stop fighting the current, the moment you surrender to it, that’s when you are truly lost.”

What can I say to make him understand that I’m already lost? My heart and soul, the very core of me, has been taken—I’m nothing but a shell now. Peter and the empress… I think I hate them. I think I truly hate them both.

As if reading the anger stirring inside me, Sergei lowers his head and whispers, “Don’t let them break you, Sophie. Don’t let them win.”

His words echo in my mind. I straighten myself, brushing my hands along my skirts and squaring my shoulders. I pull myself up as tall as I can and take a deep, calming breath.

“You’re right, of course,” I say coldly.

The air around me changes, or perhaps I only imagine it does. The thick, clouded feelings thin and melt away, leaving a clear path in front of me. I will do what I can to save Alexander, to save my family. I will please the empress and learn to bend Peter to my will. I will wear the crown of Russia, secure my father’s lands, and my brother’s title. These things, at least, are within my power.

I bow my head and take my leave, heading to the one person who might be able to help me achieve my goals.

Tapping lightly on the door, I wait until she calls me in.

“Madame Groot,” I say pleasantly.

She curtsies and waves for me to sit.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I find myself in need of your counsel.”

“Of course, dear,” she offers, ringing for the maid.

“Bring us some tea, please,” she orders the young girl.

“Actually, vodka for me, if you please,” I interject.

If she’s surprised by my request, she hides it well.

“So,” Madame Groot says curiously. “What brings you to me today?”

I hold myself rigid as we speak.

“The empress plans to announce my engagement to Peter today,” I say. She nods, unmoved by my confession.

“As you may suspect, Peter can be…” I try to think of a diplomatic way to put it, “difficult at times. He needs someone who can encourage him toward the right decisions.”

She tries to hold back a sly grin, but I see it before she can control her expression.

“And you would like me to help teach you methods of encouragement?”

I nod.

“Yes. My mother had a similar temperament. Often my father would have to gently persuade her to his way of thinking. It is a subtle art, a skill which I do not possess.”

The maid returns with a pot of tea and a tall bottle of vodka. Madame Groot pours me a glass of the clear alcohol, then one for herself, abandoning the tea altogether.

“Of course I can assist you with this. I’m actually quite pleased you thought to come to me with this. Many girls are content to bend to their lovers’ will—few have the courage to learn the art of bending him to theirs.”

I take a drink, trying to sip it slowly as it burns my mouth for a moment before sliding like warm honey down my throat.

We talk and drink as she walks me through a series of exercises. Some are techniques of subtle seduction, how to draw his attention by subtly touching your neck or shoulder, ways to look meek while still alluring. Other things are subtle verbal tricks, how to lead someone to a conclusion by offering small hints of phrase or how to use their own words to twist their thoughts in another direction.

Everything she says I store away in my mind like weapons, to be used when I need them.

“And specifically in Peter’s case,” she adds finally, “cruelty can never be met with cruelty. If he is feeling in any way attacked, he will lash out like a wounded animal. When he is angry or cruel, you must remain calm, pliant even. Offer him kindness—or at the very least indifference—to cool his temper.”

A thought occurs to me.

“Madame, did you tutor Peter as well?”

The light in her eyes dies just a bit, and she nods sadly.

“I did. He came to me as a young man. He was cocky and arrogant, as many noble boys can be. I taught him to be charming, to smile and flatter. I hoped he might use those tools to become a better man, but instead he uses them like a mask. He flirts and he fawns, but I think deep down, there is a darkness in him.”

I take a slow breath, holding my expression neutral.

She continues, “It’s not the boy’s fault, not really. The empress brought him here and lavished gifts and riches upon him like a little prince. But what she never gave him was time, never gave him real affection. So he grew up as a spoiled, but unloved, boy. He never learned how to receive affection, how could he possibly be expected to know how to give it to someone else?”

I take another drink, refusing to allow myself to feel pity for him.

“But the empress seems to have genuine affection for you,” she offers with a smile.

I raise one eyebrow but say nothing. If the empress loved me at all, she had a very strange way of showing it. Perhaps that’s what had broken Peter. If this is how she treated someone she loved, how must she have treated someone she didn’t love? I force the thought away.

“Thank you for the lesson, I am deeply grateful,” I say, setting down my empty glass. “But I must go prepare for tonight.”

She nods and takes my hands.

“My door is always open to you, dear Sophie.”

I tense, feeling the muscles in my back go rigid as I respond flatly.

“It’s Catherine, now.”