“I see you’re still here,” The Tsar nodded towards Mikhail. “That’s rather contrary to the reports that I had received.”
“No thanks to you.”
“I retaliated in kind.” He waved his hand in the air as though he was brushing off the thought. He turned his attention to Anastasia. “You fired first.”
“I did not,” she hissed, taking a few stepstowardthe Tsar. “Your men were brutalizing civilians so you could go for a bloody drive.”
“There were people on the road. What kind of city planning is that?”
“City planning?” Anastasia looked at him as though he were delusional. Frankly, he was. “Truly. You see people starving in the streets of St. Petersburg, and that is what you have to say?”
“I don’t want to get into politics…”
“That’srichcoming from aTsar.”Anastasia cut her father off. For a moment, his facade cracked, and his face seemed to twitch. He quickly recovered and kept talking.
“Like I was saying. I don’t want to get into politics. I want to discuss, let’s say, the state of our familial affairs. You’ve openly campaigned against me now. This changes your options quite a bit.”
“Bold of you to say that I’ve had options.”
“You have,” the Tsar shrugged, taking a few more steps into the room. The soldiers shut the doors behind him, the sound of them clicking shut final. “If you didn’t like those options, well, that’s a different story. Now there are very few options for me, as a father, which is very upsetting.”
“Yes, I’d imagine you’re very torn up.”
“Anastasia,” he snapped, his facade cracking once again for the briefest of moments. “You will either publicly recant, take communion, and kiss my ring —“
“I would rather die!” Anastasia cut him off, her voice sharp.
The Tsar let out a chuckle as he took a seat, far too relaxed for this conversation. “Dying is your second option,” the grin that spread over his face was conniving. “I will see you take communion and swear your fealty to God and my kingdom. Or you will be publicly executed. I do so hope you choose the former. Your gifts might still prove very useful.”
Mikhail moved closer to Anastasia at the Tsar’s mention of her execution. She felt the warm, steady presence of him at her back and was emboldened further.
“I wouldneveruse my magic to help you.” Anastasia’s voice cut through the air like a blade.
The room was crowded with soldiers, all of them still as though they were part of the decor, blending in with their sabers and ornamentation next to the chandeliers and vases. Except Anastasia knew that they were not to be trifled with.
The men would all move on the Tsar’s command, and although they were inlaid with gold, those sabers and guns would be used against them.
The Tsar sucked on his teeth, shaking his head as though he was deeply disappointed.
“I really would beg you to reconsider.”
“Don’t waste your breath,” Mikhail cut in, feeling his blood pressure rising as he stared back at the Tsar in front of him. He hadn’t forgotten how the man had nearly managed to rip their relationship apart in an afternoon.
“What is your plan, exactly?” The Tsar tilted his head to the side and looked at Mikhail in a challenge. “Anastasia is barely known outside of a few streets of St. Petersburg.Youhave developed quite a fascinating reputation, Rasputin…,” a slow smile spread across the man’s face. “I suppose I hadsomethingto do with that.”
“It doesn’t matter what the people think of me,” Mikhail shook his head. “All that matters is that your grip on their livelihoods loosens. We don’t care what that looks like.”
“That’s your problem, young man,” the Tsar leaned back and crossed an ankle over his knee. He looked like the picture of relaxation and refinement — his presence deeply unsettling as both Mikhail and Anastasia stared at him with narrowed eyes.
“You have no vision,” the Tsar continued, “and you’re much too flexible. A man’s got to have a plan!” The Tsar made a mock toast towards Mikhail. His stomach rolled.
The Tsar was the picture of everything that he had grown to hate. The opulence, the ultimate quest for power, his unquenched thirst for blood, guts, and glory. He had threatened and gaslit Anastasiaas a childuntil she spent most of her adult life impoverished in the same set of rooms.
For that alone, he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise and his hands clenched into fists. If he thought he had an opening to be on the Tsar in a second, without getting shot by the guardsmen first, he was going to take it. If he had to choke the life out of the imperial Tsar with his bare hands — he would.
The Tsar looked over Mikhail’s face and let out a low chuckle. She didn’t like the way that her father eyed him.
Mikhail had spent enough of his life being boxed around by crueler men and had to fight his way out of every situation they had put him in.
