“Ana.” Yuri pressed down on the tablecloth with his napkin. “I’m sorry. For what happened.”
She looked up at him now. The brittle morning light carved his face in sharp planes, and for the first time, she noticed the bags under his eyes, the stubble at his chin. In the course of a moon, Yuri had become a stranger.
“I went to look for you as soon as Seyin sent me a note. He’d gone back to…to bury your body.” He looked away, his napkin fisted tightly in his hand. Koffee dripped from it, forming a puddle on the floorboards. “If I’d known this would happen…” His voice shook, and she caught the glimmer of tears in his eyes.
Drip, drip, drip.
Ana stared at him, the sunlight shrouding them beneath a golden haze in this singular, inevitable moment.
A day will arrive when you will be asked to sacrifice that which you hold dearest for the good of your empire.
Could this be what Shamaïra had foreseen?
“What do you want to happen, Yuri?” It was as though someone else spoke with her voice, pushing the words past her lips. “When we spoke back at Shamaïra’s, you said you lovedme—”
“And I still do. You’re like a sister to me, Ana.”
She dragged a long breath before fixing her gaze on him. “Back then, you asked me to stay,” she said softly. “You said we’d begin our revolution here, in the south. What changed?”
The sadness in his eyes was a chasm. “The world changed, Ana,” Yuri said. “Morganya took the throne, and I saw, with my own eyes, the destruction of my empire at the hands of a vicious monarch.” He shook his head, and there, she saw it again, behind the coal gray of his eyes, a spark of fire catching life. “The era for the monarchy has come to an end. A broken system makes villains of even the best people, Ana—surely you must see that.”
Ana looked away, at the patterned tablecloth, at the cracks in the wall, at the overturned mug of koffee—anywhere but at the boy who had been by her side since she could remember. There was an ache, deep in her chest, as though a part of her already knew what was to come. “And what is it that you want fromme?”
Slowly, Yuri reached into the folds of his tunic and drew out a crumpled sheet of paper. He handed it to her.
Ana felt only a numb shock spread through her veins. It was the same poster that Shamaïra had shown her the night she’d left Novo Mynsk, only this one had been freshly painted and seemed unmarred by snow or storm. And it had reached not only an entirely different city but an entirely different region of her empire.
“If you want to work with us…if you want to join our cause to make this an empire ruled by the people for the people…” Yuri suddenly sounded very distant. “Then you must abandon the throne and renounce your cause as the Red Tigress.” The table creaked as he leaned forward, grasping her hand with his. “Join us, Ana. Together, we can make a better world.”
Ana tore her gaze from the poster to look at him. For the first time since they’d crossed paths again, Yuri’s eyes were bright, the warmth and hope of a time long past brimming in his gaze. In them, she found the boy who had crept to her chambers at the sound of her weeping, who had knocked softly against her tall mahogany doors.Why do you cry?
The one who had sat with her through all those empty days and lonely nights. Who had brought to her hot tea and freshly baked desserts and, most important, the companionship of afriend.
Her silver Deys’krug pressed against her neck. He’d gifted it to her a moon ago, promising they would come full circle again.
“Think about it, Ana,” Yuri was saying. “The Redcloaks are growing in numbers—we have over a hundred in forces, and counting, spread between here to the north. This provides us with a constant stream of intelligence on Morganya’s movements.” He hesitated, his eyes roving to the poster she held between her fingers. “And with the new movement in support of you, if you joined our cause, we could take down Morganya in one fell swoop. Finish the revolution and put the power in the hands of the people.”
A dull ringing sound grew louder in the back of her head, drowning out his words.
There are two Anastacyas now, my love: the girl you once were, and the ruler you will become.
Ana looked at him, but she was no longer seeing Yuri, her childhood friend, the one who had stayed by her side all these years.
Yuri was the leader of a revolution.
And she was heir to the throne.
It had been a dead end from the start, an utterly unachievable alliance between two parties with opposing goals.
She looked into his face, seeking out the trace she’d just seen of the boy who had been her friend. He gestured animatedly with his hands as he continued to speak, and she thought of how easy it would be to slip her fingers between his and promise him that they would be friends forever, that they would fight to the death together. She already knew how they would feel: callused and strong and hot. Once upon a time, they had made up her world.
But those memories belonged to Ana, the girl who had been lost and desperately lonely and frightened of herself.
She was no longer that girl.
Thatis the choice you must make.Shamaïra’s whispers stirred in her mind. The poster in her hands seemed to glow from the gold of the sun.Which of the Anastacyas you shall be.
“And what,” Ana said slowly, “would you do if I refused?”
