Konstantin trembled, his eyes twitching and his jaw clenching. He spoke through his teeth, “When did you become lovers?”
“I . . . I was sixteen.”
“Sixteen?!” Konstantin roared.
Birds rushed upward from the surrounding trees.
“Shh.” I looked around. “Many people lose their virginity at that age.”
“Not to the person who raised them! That is fucking disgusting.”
I pulled away from him. “You realize that I was a willing participant? So you're calling me disgusting as well.”
“You were too young to understand. He took advantage of you. A boy who felt indebted to him, who was doubtless star-struck by his king and savior. You never stood a chance, Misha.”
“I knew what I was doing. I chose him too.”
“Did you? Did you know you wouldn't be his only lover? That you'd be his consort but not his husband?”
I flinched, memories assaulting me. Nights spent alone in my bed, knowing that Niko was with someone else. Sometimes many others. The first time he'd taken another man in front of me, I had cried. I did so silently and tried to leave, but he had seen my tears and ordered me to stay. He wanted me to know that I belonged to him, but it wasn't the other way around. That was the day he killed my love for him.
“Did you know he would bring others into your bed, Misha?” Konstantin kept pushing.
“No!” I screamed and covered my face with my hands.
Konstantin went silent.
“No.” I took a shaking breath and lowered my hands. “You don't know anything about it! You weren't there. You don't get to say such things to me. To make your assumptions and pass judgment on my life!”
“All right.” Kon held up his hands. “I'm sorry. Come on, baby. Take a breath.”
“And don't call me baby!” I turned and stormed back to the castle. “I'm not your child either!”
Chapter Eighteen
I went straight to Nikolay. I don't know why.
I found him in his office—a room with a vaulted ceiling and windows nearly as tall. Snow began to fall as I stepped inside, melting against the beveled panels of glass that formed a dramatic arch behind the King's desk. I felt a sudden kinship with those snowflakes. Each one unique and beautiful, but their beauty was fleeting, lasting only until they hit the ground where they were assimilated into a mass with their brethren. And if they ventured too far from the group, tried to free themselves from the fate of unity, they ran the risk of hitting something like the Swan King's window, where they transformed into a teardrop.
Niko looked up from his computer. “Misha, I didn't expect you until later.”
“We called it an early day.” I stepped forward and bowed. “Shall I come back this evening?”
“No, come here. I've been thinking about you.” He swiveled his chair to the side.
As I stepped around the massive, ostentatious desk with its carvings of swans and soldiers, he spread his legs. I went to my knees automatically, but instead of opening his pants, Niko drew me closer, his palm going to my cheek to urge me downward. Shocked, I laid my head in his lap, right on his thigh.
“I regret my actions,” he said.
I froze. The Larch King did not apologize. Not ever.
“I shouldn't have been so harsh with you last night, my sweet Misha. My dearest consort.” He began to stroke my hair, arranging the locks down my back. “The possibility of your betrayal infuriated me. It wasn't until this morning that I realized why.”
I looked up at him.
“I love you, Misha. I love you more than anything.”
He'd said the words before, but just as when I said them, they were meaningless. Until now. Now I saw truth in his eyes. Heard it in his words. And it crushed me.
