It didn’t fall apart right from the beginning, though. If her mother was to be believed, they had many happy years together. They had her brother, Nikolai, first, and then she’d followed. Her parents had been happy until her father’s responsibilities as an ambassador ensured that he had to leave his wife all alone at their country estate for long periods of time. The worst of it was that he explicitly forbade his wife from doing anything other than having tea parties, raising her children and hosting elaborate balls.
“Ladies do notwork,” her father had said, often enough. “And neither you nor your mother need to strain yourself with it, my dear.”
Growing up, Maya had heard him say it often, that noble women who had occupations of their own—no matter how temporary—were not being looked after by their men well enough. Hepitiedthem. He felt it a point of pride that his wife had come straight from her father’s home to his and had never had to step out for anything she wanted.
Maya had watched as her gentle mother had withered away, stuck in a spiral of resenting her husband for isolating her from the world in the name of love, and then feeling guilty for feeling that way when he obviously loved her so much. It didn’t help that others around them were so vocally appreciative of what they saw as a sign of the Baron’s devotion to his beautiful wife.
As she grew older, Maya realized that her father had been worried about the repercussions for her mother’s presence at court, given that Leela von Rakhmonov was, after all, still a foreign lady from a country that had an adversarial relationship with Drakazov. He’d feared unkind comments and underhanded bullying, and so he’d sought to keep his wife safe in the country, away from court.
But Maya’s mother had needed companionship, and her nimble mind had needed things to focus on other than the circumstances in which she’d found herself. So, her mind turned in on itself, and she had episodes of what the healer called heartsickness, when she couldn’t even get out of bed to see her two children.
The healer had suggested a change of scenery, maybe a trip outside the province. Everyone knew the Baroness had been born in warmer climes, and she found the winters difficult to bear in Rakhmonov. The idea had been suggested to the Baron, and he’d promptly shot it down.
“I cannot leave the court, not when I’ve been asked to handle the ceasefire talks with Sunvaara,” he’d said brusquely. “And married women do not travelalone.”
And that had been that.
So, her mother had focused all her energies on Maya. Trying to make sure her daughter would have everything she had wanted for herself.
When Maya was growing up, she’d had the best tutors, but after she’d turned eighteen, when most noble girls her age were presented at court and attending balls and parties on the lookout for husbands, her mother had other ideas for her.
Her mother had pushed her to study further, telling her to take advantage of the freedom the military academy would afford her. Men and women from all walks of life were welcome, and it was the preferred way for women to make a living. The only other option for common women was to go into domestic service, which was seen as a poor second choice to becoming a soldier in the Imperial Army.
Her father had hated the idea. He’d raged that there was noreasonfor Maya to go to the Academy, if she wanted to learn the sword, he would have instructors brought home, if she wanted to learn the sciences or strategy, he would find her the best tutors.
But Maya had stood firm. It helped that she had her mother’s support. When her father had blustered that she would be older than other noble ladies looking for matches when she finally graduated, her mother had interjected that an Academy graduate with stellar results would undoubtedly be a better match to any one of the eligible noble men of court than a girl who knew nothing of the world.
“Maya’s better than all the other debutantes who couldn’t be expected to understand anything being taught at the Academy, she is aRakhmonov, after all,” her mother had said, shamelessly pandering to her father’s pride in his lineage. And it had worked.
Maya had further had to promise to keep her head down in the Academy and graduate with impeccable results worthy of the Rakhmonov name before her father would let her enroll in the Academy.
After she’d graduated, though, Maya wasn’t content to return to the marriage mart of balls and parties. She had found her passion—becoming an artificer. She’d worked with Lord Alexei Utkin and her Academy instructors to write to other mages and artificers who were working in the same field as her. She’d brought them all together to the Rakhmonov province, where her older brother had since taken over as the lord of the estate while she’d been away at the Academy.
Nikolai had enjoyed playing the indulgent older brother, financing her lab and her work, until the war had started in Telluria and the Imperial Army had felt her little team’s work was important to the war effort.
She’d had a purpose, and her brother’s support. Even her parents were happier, travelling together to Sunvaara and Merovia for her father’s diplomatic business, now that both their children were home.
Then, they’d been invited to stay at Rurik Castle. And it had seemed like the culmination of all her hard work. Success, and a royal stamp of approval.
But now, the war was winding down, and Lord Yarek felt they were no longer needed. And so she and her team had been disbanded. Her team had gone home, each to their own province, while she’d had nowhere else to go but her home in Rakhmonov.
When her father had returned home, flush with the success of negotiating this political marriage between the Crown Prince of Sunvaara and Princess Ludmilla, he’d returned to find Maya in her lab in Rakhmonov, and he’d lost his temper.
Her father had forbidden Nikolai from funding her lab anymore, and worse of all, he’d started trying to marry her off. “You’ve worked in your labs long enough, Maya,” he’d said. “It’s time for you to settle down and leave all this artificing business behind.”
And despite all her arguments about how she didn’t need a husband, how she wasn’t ready to be married, her father had insisted that she needed to be settled. For his peace of mind.
“What aboutmypeace of mind, father?” she’d screamed, and he’d only sighed, as if she were a recalcitrant child.
“You have to get married, Maya. You can’t go through life alone, child. Don’t worry, I’ll find the perfect man for you—someone smart, and strong.”
And it had led to him arranging a match with Lord Viktor Aminov, the second son of his old friend.
Which was how Maya had ended up sitting with Luka in his study, trying to convince him that the Crown Prince would be as bad to Ludmilla as her father was to her mother.
“And you’re basing your opinion of the Crown Prince on…?”
Luka trailed off, and Maya turned to face him. “Call it my intuition,” she said with a shrug, not sure if he would believe her. She raised an eyebrow at him in challenge at his silence.
