Her mother looked terrified as if she was staring at a ghost, more inclined to believe that he had been resurrected than that their attempt had misfired.
The Tsar’s face darkened for just a moment before evening out into a twisted stoicism, a gift he had honed over the years as a tyrant.
Thedvoryanstvoimmediately began whispering to each other — and one slipped out the door, the story of Rasputin’sdark magic resurrectionon his loose lips to anyone who would listen.
“Your affinity for political assassinations is as strong as ever,” Anastasia stared at her father, refusing to back down under his unholy stare. “It seems as if your efficacy may be slipping, though. I do hope it is not the sign of a frail mind.” Her voice descended into a hiss — and even Anastasia couldn’t believe the way she was taking on her father.
The Tsar’s answering voice was cold. It did not shake with anger, frustration, or malice; it was foreboding and iron-clad in its resolution. The sound of it had made men weep at its finality. He stared down at his daughter with the face that he had taken against his own enemies.
Mikhail moved like water upon seeing that glance, silently slipping around the couch and standing behind Anastasia.
“You will be wed,” the Tsar was emotionless, “to Nikolai Ruzsky. I have a suspicion that my general has become rather nearsighted on our goals as of late.”
Anastasia felt a cold pit sinking in her stomach, but she swallowed thickly and let her flames lick up higher.
“What? Am I to be some distracting new toy for him?”
“You’re going to kill him,” the Tsar’s voice was like a whip, Anastasia felt it smacking across her face.
“I… I will do no such thing.” Anastasia’s voice wavered but did not falter. She felt herself digging her heels into the ground as if she was preparing for a physical attack.
“You will,” the Tsar commanded again. “I’ve had enough of your games. You chose to reappear at court. The people demand to know what is to be done with you —“
“Donewith her?” Mikhail snapped, his hand going up and gently pressing against Anastasia’s back. “She’s a woman, not an object.”
“She is a weapon!” The Tsar hissed. “She will be used as such.” Composure flittered over the Tsar’s face as he bounced back and forth between rage and deathly calm.
“What do you suppose I do?” Anastasia laughed darkly. “I don’t want to kill anyone… I won’t do it. You don’t even —Idon’t even — know what I can do.”
Anastasia fumbled weakly for an excuse, desperate to make her parents believe her magic had limits. They hadn’t seen her use it recently.
“You can kill,” the Tsar raised an eyebrow. “Or have you forgotten?”
Anastasia’s hands pulled into fists, and she let out a controlled breath.
She took a step backward, expecting Mikhail to abandon her side and rejoin her parents at the reminder. He stood firm, his hand warm around her waist.
Anastasia felt her heart begin to race…Is he choosing this right now? Us?
“Touching,” the Tsar rolled his eyes at the display. “This is not a request. Youwillmarry Ruzsky, and you will kill him.”
“How am I supposed to kill someone?!” Anastasia’s voice was equal parts angry and skeptical. “You are seemingly skipping over the fact that even if you manage to marry me off to some rivalof yours, I can’t… and Iwon’t… kill him.”
“Your Grace,” one of thedoryantsvo’svoices interrupted — it had a greasy sound to it that reminded Anastasia of rotten fish. He had a jilted way of speaking as though he had to summon the courage for the following words.
“It should be quite easy… magic or no… if you are so inclined… for a woman of your… standing… to incapacitate a man when he is otherwise… distracted.”
There was a tense silence that settled over the room. Mikhail felt his body stiffen as his grip on Anastasia tightened, feeling righteous anger begin to roll and burn in his chest.
He had already been holding back against the Tsar as they threatened to move Anastasia around like a weapon, a pawn — and his control was beginning to slip as he tried to estimate the prowess of his opponents.
If this man opens his mouth one more time and elaborates on this idea… He better not even be picturing this right now, or I will rip his spine from his back.
A lecherous grin slid over the noble’s face while both the Tsar and the Tsarina remained impassive, hardly bothered by the perverted instructions.
“Excuse me?” Anastasia raised an eyebrow, her voice challenging.
Even from behind her, Mikhail knew the fire that had just flared in her blue eyes based on her tone. He had to fight to keep the smirk off of his face.
