“Moi Tsar,”thedoryantsvo’svoice broke the staredown between father and daughter, “Let me take out this one,” he nodded the pistol at Mikhail, “and then we can still use the Grand Duchess to eliminate Ruzsky.”
“What makes you think I will do anything for you?” Anastasia yelled, turning to look at thedoryantsvo.“Do you have a plan? Oh, that’s right. You just wanted me tofuckhim. A master strategy!”
“Shoot him,” the Tsar rolled his eyes, pocketing his pistol, clearly intent on sorting out Anastasia once they were rid of Mikhail.
The command broke something inside Anastasia, her blood running cold and then hot. She was consumed with the idea and was almost violently sick at how it made her chest clench.
Thedoryantsvogrinned like a leech, raising a shaky hand. All at once, Anastasia threw herself in front of Mikhail and tossed her hands up in front of them.
The lights went out again in the apartments as the fire went out. The weak will of the dawn was no match for the heavy, opaque velvet curtains as the rooms were plunged into darkness.
Anastasia’s magic came whirling out of her fingertips, the telltale gold dust spreading around her fingers and up her arms. The Tsar watched on as his eyes widened, witnessing his first glimpse of Anastasia’s magic in action. The expression on his face flickered in awe… and then turned to jealousy… and, the most terrifying of all, greed for power.
The vases, candelabras, and plates in the room began to rise and vibrate, suspended in midair. Mikhail looked around, frozen at the sight of Anastasia using her magic to such a powerful extent.
It was as though the oxygen had been sucked out of the room entirely. Thedoryantsvogasped before leveling his gun once more and cocking the pistol.
“Don’t youdare!” Anastasia yelled, followed by a horrendous scream as she tossed her hands forward. The suspended objects went hurtling towards the wall, crashing against it and exploding in a spray of shattered glass.
She took another step forward, staring at thedoryantsvo’seyes and flicking her wrist to send another wave of magic his way. He was knocked to the ground, his eyes wide as he started clawing at his throat.
The Tsar watched — stunned — as Anastasia had the man gasping for air on the floor with a mere twitch of her fingers.
“Is this what you wanted?” She stepped forward, looking like she was possessed.
Mikhail stood behind her in awe, staring at the woman who was standing up to her father and his lackeys after decades of being under their thumb.
“You wanted me to get that man into bed and do something like… what? This?” She twisted her wrist again, and thedoryantsvo’sback arched as the rest of his air was cut off. Mikhail watched and quietly stepped forward, squeezing Anastasia’s gently.
“You have every right to kill him, Anya,” his voice had that warm, gentle tone that he only took when speaking to her, “I think you’ll regret this.”
“They spentyearsshaping me for this,” she muttered, her magic spinning around them like a golden vortex.
“I know they did,” he said quietly. “I’ll kill them all with you if you asked me to…,” he leaned down and kissed her shoulder, “I know you. You’re better than them. You’ll regret this.”
“No!” She shrieked, contorting her magic again and making thedoryantsvoflail while tears began streaming down her cheeks. “They turned me intothis!”
“Don’t be afraid of who you are. Don’t be afraid of magic. Don’t use it for this.”
Anastasia grit her teeth, the internal struggle apparent on her face as she wrestled with her magic.
Fifteen years of feeling minimized, ashamed, made to be afraid of herself… all boiled down to this moment. Yet, she stopped. The magic went out like a light.
Anastasia sagged against Mikhail, the sudden outburst of her power leaving her exhausted.
Thedoryantsvogasped for air, standing up and stumbling out of the room. By the time he had regained his breath, he had begun ranting madly about what happened when he had tried to killRasputin.And so, the rumor mill started again. No one moved to go after him.
The lights found their way back on as Anastasia’s magic crept back over the room in tendrils, recoiling into her.
The pair slowly turned over to look at the Tsar, who was staring at the both of them with a wild look on his face. He’d never had someone resisthim in his life.
Everything had always been done according to his whims, wishes, and wants. People fought to give in to his desires, to make them happen. He had his dissenters like any royal — namely Ruzsky — but those were distant threats. They were often handled for him.
Now, he was staring down the first two people who had ever stood up to him directly; the daughter that he should have dealt with years ago and the priest he had brought back into his home.
“Anastasia,” he gritted the words out, as though her name tasted bitter. “Do you think your little light show has frightened me?”
Mikhail almost growled, unable to keep the anger off his face as he helped Anastasia stay on her feet. He knew what these exertions did to her and was desperate to pull her to safety. If her father figured out how quickly her magic could deplete, the Tsar would lock her in irons right now.
