He was looking at her as though he didn’t quite believe what she was saying. “Truly?” he asked.
“Truly,” she replied, and pulled out what she had been working on: a scroll of parchment on which she was drafting her transition plan.
Yuri took it, eyes roving over the page, growing wider and wider.
“I’m thinking bodies of representation,” Ana continued, “for Affinites and non-Affinites, to start with. No policy is passed without a vote.”
“We’d need checks and balances,” Yuri added. “Different courts to hold different functions, just like they do in Bregon. Representation from the bottom up, so the voice of the people can be heard.” He looked up. There was suddenly a light in his eyes that warmed his entire face, and Ana felt as though they were back in the Salskoff Palace together, he conspiring to steal treats from the kitchens for her.
“But first, we must win this war,” she said. “I plan to begin a campaign to gather forces across Cyrilia.”
“Once Morganya’s regime is overthrown,” Yuri said, “then our parties can work together to reform the Cyrilian government.”He was gazing at her as though seeing her in a completely new way, those coal-gray eyes flickering. His voice was quiet when he said: “And after that, you’ll yield the crown?”
Ana parted her lips to speak.
An explosion tore through the air outside, the force of it rattling the walls of their dacha and throwing her off-balance. She caught herself against the table, crying out as the water pitcher and various plates and furniture smashed to the ground.
A second explosion shattered the wall of their dacha.
The ground tilted beneath her, and the next moment she found herself on her hands and knees. Her palms were scraped and bleeding; there was a ringing in her ears that she couldn’t shake off. The floor was covered in debris, clouds of dust stirring in the air all around her. The acrid scent of smoke choked her lungs.
She heard someone shouting her name; felt a pair of firm hands on her shoulders. Dazed, she looked up, her vision doubling and tripling before it focused. Flame-red hair and coal-gray eyes, brows creased in concern.
She saw Yuri’s lips move. Everything was muted, as though she were underwater.
And then the light of the fire in the hearth dimmed. The paltry sunlight filtering through the windows turned to black. From the writhing darkness stepped a figure dressed in pure white.
Seyin’s expression was tight, but there was murder in his eyes. He looked from Yuri to Ana and raised his hand in a gesture. Several more hooded figures materialized from the billowing dust. Their hoods nipped red at their heels.
Redcloaks,Ana thought dully, her mind still struggling toshake off the aftermath of the explosion, the high-pitched whine in her ears. Seyin had found their camp—and he was attacking.
As one of the Redcloaks ran past her to Yesenya, another raised his hand.
The air in the room shifted. Suddenly, Ana couldn’t breathe. She clasped her hands to her throat, bending over on the floor, opening and closing her mouth to draw in the breath that wouldn’t come.
The Redcloak’s gaze was merciless; he tightened his fist. An air Affinite, Ana realized, like her friend Linn. Only she had never seen Linn use her Affinity in such a cruel manner.
Her lungs burned as she reached to her blackstone collar. Her siphon was blocked—she couldn’t use any of her Affinities. The key, where was the key that Tetsyev had given her? She felt through the pockets of her shirt, but they were empty. It must have fallen out during the explosion. Coughing, eyes watering, she swept her hands across the floor, sifting through debris.
By her side, Yuri stood. In a single step, he positioned himself between Seyin and Ana. The world spun around her as she watched Yuri approach Seyin. He was yelling something, making motions with his arms. Through the ringing in her ears, Ana heard only muffled sounds.
As Seyin began to speak, Yuri pressed his lips together. The former Second-in-Command looked to her and pointed, his jaw clenched.
Black spots dotted Ana’s vision; her limbs were growing weak. She was going to die, right here, in the middle of her own camp—
And then, without warning, the pressure on her chest lifted. Ana gasped, swallowing lungfuls of sweet, cold air. The worldshifted beneath her as though she were being lifted; dimly, fragments of conversation filtered through her consciousness.
“…dare disobey your Second-in-Command?” Seyin’s voice was twisted in a snarl, directed somewhere toward the doorway. There was a mumbled reply—perhaps from the air Affinite who’d released Ana.
“Might I remind you thatIam the commander.” Yuri’s wordswere icy, and they came from nearby. Her eyelids were heavy, yet sensation began to return to Ana: bitter smoke, strong, warm arms encircling her. Yuri held her, she realized. He pressed her head against his chest, the rumble of his voice in her ear as he spoke. “What in the hells do you think you’re doing?”
A hint of uncertainty to Seyin’s voice. “Rescuing you.”
“I was never a prisoner,” Yuri said heatedly. “I was in the middle of negotiating with Ana. We need her, Seyin—we have no sizable army of our own with which to fight Morganya, and the enemy of our enemy is our friend.”
“Not if she’s also a monarch, next in line to take the throne.”
“She isn’t,” Yuri replied. “She’s going to give up her crown—transition the government and hand over power to the people.”
