“What do you mean, ‘the safest place for everyone’?” Mikhail looked down at her, his gaze seeming to peer through to the very heart of her. Anastasia shrugged.
“It’s safest for everyone if we don’t draw my father out here. He’ll come looking for us now. You saw what happened today in the streets. He’ll burn half the city to keep me under his thumb.”
“You want to go back to the palace?” Mikhail tried to keep his voice from rising.
He assumed the second that Anastasia had openly used her magic against the imperial guard in public, there would be no returning to the palace for them. It wasn’t safe anymore. They had declared war and were now acting on it.
“I don’t want to, no,” Anastasia shook her head, and Mikhail hated how easily he could detect the fear in her eyes. “It’s the safest for everyone.”
“You mean it’s the safest for everyonebut you,” Mikhail corrected her.
They were standing close enough that Mikhail had to look down at Anastasia to meet her eye. She still had a few flecks of blood around her nose, and her braid was only half-assembled. She looked tired but not drained.
“Yes,” her voice was slow, “but I couldn’t... you know that I’m right.”
Mikhail made a frustrated, grunting noise, running his hand over his face.
“This time, yes. I know that it’s what we have to do. I need you to get out of this headspace that‘what is right for everyone’doesn’t includeyou.What’s best for you matters, too.”
Anastasia nodded, focusing more on the fact that Mikhail had agreed with her than what he was saying. She had spent so long denying herself that she was apt to neglect her own needs — whenever Mikhail presented them to her, it made her uncomfortable.
She trusted herself more every day, but the thought of doing it without him behind her made her anxious. She knew she’d never fully understand herself or her magic until the idea of doing it without anyone’s help didn’t matter. For now, it did.
Mikhail could tell she was lost in her thoughts and also knew, unfortunately, it wasn’t the time to bring it up.
The streets around them had returned to their state before the skirmish, which wasn’t to say that they looked much better, but at the very least, there were fewer people.
Windows had already been boarded up, and there were no bodies in the road. Neither of them wanted to think about the losses that had happened that day as they moved through the city.
Anastasia paused for a moment and let Mikhail step in front of her, holding her hand as she let him lead her through the streets.
Once they got a few blocks away and closer to the palace, it grew quieter. There were fewer people as though they all had a subconscious sense to avoid the property and everything that happened within it. As they approached it… the silence started making Anastasia uncomfortable.
“Mikhail…,” she started, stepping a little bit closer to his body, “Do you…?”
“Yes,” his voice was tight, and he stood up a little straighter. The air around him changed as he looked down the block, analyzing everything like a predator. “Something’s wrong.”
“The streets have been cleared out,” Anastasia whispered back. Her eyes went wide in fear. On instinct, the magic began to spark around her fingers. Her heart rate skyrocketed, and the sparks evolved once more, turning to wisps of flame.
The light caught Mikhail’s attention as he leaned down and raised an eyebrow at Anastasia.
“That’s new,” he nodded with a small smile towards her magic, trying to lighten the mood. “Flames?”
“Apparently,” Anastasia looked down at her hands and willed it to calm down, her magic muting itself just as easily as it sparked.
“You’re getting good at —”
Mikhail’s voice was cut off as a sudden gunshot sent a bullet flying past them and ricocheted off the ground.
“Move!” Mikhail yelled, grabbing Anastasia’s hand and pulling her through the streets.
They ran blindly towards the Winter Palace, not sure who was shooting at them. Anastasia covered her head with her hand on instinct, even though it did nothing for her.
They were nearly tripping over their feet on the rough road, the bullets pinging around them.
“Where is it coming from?!” Anastasia yelled, trying to look up at Mikhail as they fled.
“I don’t know, just —blyat,”he hissed as a bullet hit dangerously close to his foot, “We have to split up —”
