In contrast, the Tsarina’s shocked expression quickly faded to one of annoyance when she recognized Anastasia’s dress.
A few more moments passed of appalling silence, and Mikhail felt Anastasia move a hair’s breadth closer to him. Then, just as suddenly as the party had stopped, it resumed.
Anastasia let out a controlled, sharp breath and they descended the grand staircase, immediately accosted by guests coveting the attention of the Grand Duchess.
Though she had been sheltered for the majority of her adult life, keeping up with court was still mandated for Anastasia. Her father had instructed it.
She had frequently been quizzed on the who’s who of St. Petersburg, even if she had never been allowed to meet them in person. That way, in her father’s mind, she would be prepared to emerge as soon as her magic was under control. His control, of course.
Anastasia wasted no time ignoring the ladies who approached her about her dress as she descended on the lords themselves. It wasn’t long before they were separated, Anastasia falling into her own and beginning to flirt and schmooze the boyars.
Mikhail watched her for a moment as he tried to keep himself from thinking too fondly about how much she had evolved since returning to her magic.
A strategist, no matter the setting,Mikhail thought to himself.Admirable.Mikhail had no court experience and was desperately out of touch with the mannerisms and intricacies of the required etiquette. He politely excused himself to stand on the periphery.
However, a handsome man amongst a crowd of overinflated, red-faced calvary men was never alone at a party for long. Hardly a minute had passed before women began to descend and circle like sharks, their fans either open wide or held in front of their faces. Mikhail nodded politely to each one, blissfully unaware.
Across the ballroom, Anastasia was barely listening to a boyar, her eyes narrowing as she watched woman after woman present themselves to Mikhail.
He clearly had no idea what was going on, but in terms of body language and use of their fans, the women were publicly announcing their intentions to seduce him.
Anastasia felt something hot like jealousy rise in her chest, making her grip her own fan so tightly that a pearl popped off.
“I’m sorry,” she turned to the lord speaking to her. “I am needed elsewhere. Would you mind saving me a waltz?” The nameless face nodded enthusiastically, and Anastasia rolled her eyes internally before giving him a graceful smile and walking away. She crossed the dance floor, shrugging off two other men, before storming over to Mikhail.
Anastasia looked up at one of the women who was circling particularly close, her fan sliding graciously up to her left ear.
The woman recoiled with a look of shock on her face before scoffing and promptly stomping off with a very bruised ego.
“What was that?” Mikhail grabbed Anastasia’s arm and tugged her behind a column. “We’re supposed to be making allies, Anya. Why are you stomping around like a child and scaring people off? She could’ve been useful.”
“You have no idea how useful,” Anastasia rolled her eyes. “And don’t call me Anya.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mikhail gave her a once over. “Did someone say something to you? What is your problem?”
“Look,” Anastasia peered out from behind the column, “Do you see that woman?” She pointed at a blonde woman in a black Venetian mask.
“Yes,” he shrugged, “What’s your point?”
“Herfan,Mikhail,” Anastasia hissed, stepping out back in full view of the party.
“Okay? Maybe she’s warm?”
“Mikhail,” her voice snapped, “She’s looking right at you with her fan at her mouth. She’s telling you and this whole party she wants to fuck you.”
His eyes went wide, and his cheeks tinged. “Shewhat?”
“And that one,” Anastasia muttered, pointing to another woman, “She’s the daughter of a Swiss dignitary. She’s engaged, but she’d apparently like you to know they’d accept a third this evening.”
Mikhail blinked rapidly before turning to look at Anastasia and bursting into laughter upon seeing the expression on her face. “Oh, Anya,” he crooned, “Are you jealous? You look ready to tear them apart.”
“I am most certainly not jealous!” Anastasia’s magic flared at her fingertips, sending sparks to the floor — which only caused Mikhail’s laughter to drop an octave as he stared down at her.
“Calm down,” he said, a smirk slowly spreading over his face. “Your magic, Anastasia. Tonight isn’t the time for people to discover it. Now, use your fan and tell me what’s wrong…,” he couldn’t help but bite his lip to keep from laughing at his joke.
Anastasia sputtered, her temper attempting to take over before Mikhail wrapped an arm around her waist and spun them swiftly back behind the column. He pressed her up against it, his hand going to her forearm and tracing the barest of touches across her skin.
“Keep it under control,Your Grace,”he grinned. Anastasia’s eyes went wide at the feel of his skin against hers, causing her hands to spark into a brief, shining ball of light before dissipating.
