Then I looked down at my hand. In it was a white feather. Just a little one, but I could still tell that it was a swan feather.
“What the fuck?” I shook my head at the feather, then shoved it into my pants pocket. “This night just keeps getting stranger.”
Regardless of Gleb's odd behavior, he had served as a wake-up call. I hurried through the corridors, alert to all sounds and ready to trust no one, not even the youngest member of the castle staff. But I didn't have to test my resilience; I made it to my chambers without further issue.
Once I was inside, I locked the door and shoved a wooden chest in front of it. It wouldn't stop someone from entering but hopefully, it would give me enough time to grab the disruptor.
I removed my shoes and crawled into bed otherwise clothed. Bedside drawer open and blankets pulled up to my chin, I laid there listening to the wind claw at my window as I prayed that Konstantin returned safely and soon. Part of me cursed myself for being so weak, but the other part of me told me this was wisdom, not weakness. A man must know his own limits.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
My cheek was vibrating.
I came awake suddenly, the reason for that vibration jolting into my brain. Hand slipping beneath my pillow, I grabbed the phone and sat up.
“Kon?”
“Yes. Are you all right?”
“Yes. Niko sent for me last night but let me leave without . . . demanding anything of me.”
“He did?”
“He was drunk. Never mind that. Are you back?”
“Yes, I'm at Olga's.”
“You're at Olga's house? Why?”
“You'll understand when you get here. Comenow, Misha.”
“All right. I'm on my way.”
I hung up and shoved the phone in my pocket. As I removed my hand, a feather came out with it and fluttered to the floor. I frowned at it, remembering what Gleb said. Then I recalled the feather we'd found in Milana's room and the one on the maid. What the hell was going on? I didn't have time to ponder it. I just grabbed Konstantin's gun, left the feather where it lay, and went for my sable coat.
Once again, I raced through the dark corridors of Larch Castle. Sunrise was still an hour off, so they didn't look much different than they had the night before. But at least I made it through the castle without hearing the sound of footsteps behind me.
The gate guards nodded to me from the warmth of the guardhouse as I passed by. I waved and headed in the direction of the Larchary. I don't know why I did that, but I took the deception even further and went inside. There was no music at this time of day, though I did hear the sounds of people moving about. I didn't go looking for them, just for the corridor on the left. A few minutes later, I exited the theater from a side door and scurried down the lane toward Olga's home.
Passing close to the dark storefronts, then homes, I moved in the shadows, glancing back repeatedly at the castle looming on the hill behind me. I felt as if someone were watching me even though I'd taken every effort to not be seen. But that was probably just paranoia. I hoped.
Although most of the castle was still abed, the houses in the village were alight, warm glows seeping through windowpanes. I sidestepped the pools of light, feeling like a criminal going about some nefarious activity. Which could very well be the case.
At last, I reached Olga's home. Drapes drawn tightly, only hairlines of light showed through the windows. When I knocked—softly—I didn't even catch the sound of footsteps approaching the door.
Olga opened it a crack, then fully. “Mikhail,” she whispered. “Come inside. Hurry.”
I slid around the door, and she shut it as I did, nearly catching the hem of my coat.
“This way, my lord.” Olga turned off the lamp that had meagerly lit the front room, then led me down the corridor, past the bedrooms to the kitchen.
Light poured down the hallway in greeting, along with the scent of strong coffee. I shrugged out of my coat as we went, then removed my gloves. I was tucking them into a coat pocket when we entered the rustic kitchen/dining room. I paused just over the threshold.
Konstantin sat at a worn wooden table with three men—one of them Dmitry, the owner of the Swan's Beak—and a woman. As eager as I was to see Kon, it was the woman who stopped me short. She stood up when she saw me, a soft smile coming to her lips. I knew that smile. I'd seen glimpses of it in my dreams. That gentle smile and that dark hair, always pulled back in a thick braid.
“I know you,” I whispered.
“And I know you, Mishen'ka.” A tear trickled from her eye. “You look just like your father. It's as if he's come back to life right before my eyes.”
