by Raye Wagner
“No,” she said, clearing her throat. “And no.”
Henryk narrowed his eyes, and his lips twisted into the mocking sneer she’d seen at the ball. “You’re not a spy or a gardener, eh? Have you spent the last five years training to become an assassin?”
She rolled her eyes and said, “If I were an assassin or a spy, neither of you should be outside alone with me.”
Henryk snorted, but he refused to continue playing the game.
Vasi shook her head and blinked as the air around Henryk shimmered, and his black doublet and hose became inky leather. With another blink, her vision returned to normal. She took a deep breath, wishing the hallucinations would stop.
“Might I suggest, if you are either, to consider a new profession. You’re certainly not very good at skulking,” Nikolai said, pulling her attention back to him. Gesturing to the hedge, he continued with a grin, “Not if a bush can best you, Vasi.”
Vasi looked down to see the piece of branch still attached to her skirts and was forced to admit the thorny barberry had, indeed, bested her. Her shoulders dropped. “Rats.”
“Come,” he said with a chuckle. “Is there really something we can help you find? I promise the distraction is most welcome.”
“A spool of thread? Perhaps a bar of soap? Or maybe a lost trinket from a secret lover?” Henryk raised his eyebrows with his last question and crossed his arms over his chest. Unlike his brother, he made no move toward her nor any indication he would search the ground.
“No.” She shook her head, her cheeks flaming. She stared into Henryk’s skeptical gray eyes for a moment, and her mind emptied.
“Vasi.” Nikolai rested his hands on her shoulders. “Why are you outside in . . . the dark?”
She couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation, not without telling them everything, so she deflected. “Aren’t you both supposed to be in there dining? I know Roza will be disappointed to miss your company.”
Roza wouldn’t just be disappointed. She’d be so upset that Vasi would hear no end of the complaints for weeks. Worse, if Roza and Marika found out Vasi spent time with the princes . . . Vasi couldn’t fathom the horror Marika’s ire would demand as recompense.
With the mention of Roza, the light happiness dropped from Nikolai’s features, replaced by a grim furrow of his brow. “Roza is your sister now. How your life has changed.”
Vasi couldn’t help but notice that while Nikolai was clearly trying to puzzle out something, Henryk’s face remained impassive.
Vasi shook her head. “My stepsister,” she corrected. “Papa married the Viscountess a couple years after my mother passed away.”
“I’m sorry, Vasi. Your mother . . .” Nikolai pursed his lips as he searched for the word he wanted.
“Was the brightest star in all of Beloch.” Henryk finished his brother’s sentence. Bowing low, the younger prince added, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He straightened, and Vasi was surprised by the sincerity that rang deep in his words and the ravaged expression on his face. Danica must have made quite an impression on Henryk when he was young. Something about his broodiness made Vasi think her impression was correct. Danica was a star, and she’d been especially kind to the quiet kids.
Nikolai nodded. “Yes, she was wonderful. I’m sorry too.” His gaze slid toward the window. “So your father remarried and you gained a sister.” He returned his attention to Vasi and asked, “Are you close? She wouldn’t say when we were at the ball.”
Vasi wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of his question, but she didn’t really know this Nikolai. The boy she’d played, gone fishing, and snuck treats with had left her in Rizy, promising to write. But like everything else that had gone wrong, he’d stopped writing almost three years ago. Whatever relationship they’d had then didn’t return because he had. Even if he’d hugged her at Lord Baine’s ball. Whatever information the prince sought about Roza and her relationship with Vasi, she wasn’t sure what she could share and not have it come back to haunt her. She knew little of either prince now, but their father was dining with her stepmother. That had to mean something.
Nikolai sighed. “You still let your emotions dance all over your face when you’re thinking. I’m sure Henryk will agree with me; I can practically read your mind.”
Nikolai’s words felt like a slap, and Vasi felt her careful control slip. “Really?” she asked. “Then tell me, Highness, what was I thinking?”
Nikolai stared at her with raised eyebrows. After a moment of silence, he said, “You don’t know if you can trust me. Or Henryk.” He frowned and stepped closer. He reached for her hand but let his arm drop by his side when she pulled back. “I don’t know what I did, Vasi, to make you hate me. I wish you would tell me. Help me understand.”
“Hate you?” Was he joking? She looked from Nikolai to Henryk and back. But they were not boys anymore, and she was not a little girl. So much had happened in five years. “I don’t hate you.”
“I don’t want to offend you,” the crown prince whispered.
Vasi’s heart pounded in an unfamiliar rhythm that made her both fearful and excited all at once. Her gaze locked with Nikolai’s, and she saw the same acceptance shining from the blue depths of his eyes as when she was younger. But then, had she really seen acceptance, or was she imagining what she wanted? She’d either convinced herself or fallen for his feigned sincerity before, and it took over a year before Vasi could go even one night without missing him, over a year before the hole in her heart didn’t ache every minute of every day. She’d written him for years, even after he’d stopped his correspondence, and the old pain of missing him welled to the surface.
She shook her head, dislodging what she wanted as she tried to sort the reality for what it was.
“Your stepsister’s attentions played a huge part in us wanting to take this walk,” Henryk said, breaking the awkward silence. “She threw herself . . . at both of us. It wasn’t pretty.”
“Henryk,” Nikolai growled, his gaze flitting away from Vasi for only a moment.
Vasi brushed off her discomfiture, refusing to let her heart take another beating. Forcing a smile, she turned to Henryk and said lightly, “I’m not slighted in the least by your words. Roza and I are not so close.”
Henryk chuckled. “I’m not at all surprised.”
Nikolai’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, but his expression remained puzzled. “What has happened to you, Vasi?”
If only she could share.
10
Vasi wouldn’t, couldn’t, tell Nikolai. How could he expect her to open up and trust him? He’d promised his friendship before, but he went more than two years without writing. He’d been home for months, but the first time he’d come to visit, it was to have supper with Roza. So, Vasi kept her voice light as if everything about meeting the two princes in the hedge after dark was normal, and addressed Henryk. “I imagine you’ve met all kinds of people since your return.”
“We’ve been forced to deal with far too much insincere attention. But that’s nothing new,” Nikolai said, still studying her intently. “As, I’m sure, you’ll remember.”
Vasi did remember. She and Nikolai would laugh and act out the most ridiculous stories. But his words now were not enough to reassure her that he hadn’t changed.
“Father’s court is full of sycophants, bootlickers, and worse,” Henryk muttered darkly. He kicked a stone on the ground, and the rock skittered across the path and into the overgrown lawn.
“I strive to not be disingenuous,” Nikolai continued, “but sometimes, as with your sister, I am torn between . . . honesty and courtesy. Henryk,”—he waved toward his brother—“you’ll remember, does not suffer the same problem.”
“I’m just discourteous.” Henryk shrugged, unrepentant.
Vasi moved farther from the hedge and onto the stone path. The winding route led through the gardens and landscaping of Casimir’s property. She laughed at Henryk’s blatant disrespect. Finding it easier
to address him, she asked, “However did you escape tonight? I’m certain neither Roza nor Marika would’ve let you go easily.”
“I merely insisted I needed a word with my brother,” Henryk replied. He glanced back at the window and added, “But I doubt that woman will leave us alone for long.”
“I apologize, Vasi. We’re being dreadfully rude,” Nikolai said, throwing another grimace at his brother before following Vasi onto the path. “I think Henryk is trying to say that it’s more about our comfort than an insult to your family.”
Vasi laughed again, though it took more effort this time. Nikolai seemed very much as she remembered, offering a convoluted explanation, and Henryk had been just as Nikolai said: dreadfully rude. Vasi still found Nikolai’s frank sincerity endearing, and the wall she’d built around her heart fissured. She offered her former friend a tentative smile. “I completely understand. I also know you’ll always be welcome here, regardless of how rude you are.”
Perhaps her actions could be seen in a similar light. Doing what was best and doing what was right seemed to be at odds of late.
“Come now, we were friends once,” Nikolai said, extending his hand. “Let’s walk through your gardens, and you can weave me a story of all that I’ve missed.”
Vasi looked at Nikolai’s outstretched hand. To accept the attention of Nikolai and Henryk now, like this, would mean she was just the sort of disingenuous fraud they professed to dislike. Clearly, Marika hadn’t shared with them Vasi’s demotion. Keeping her hands to herself, Vasi asked, “Are you not expected back soon?”
Henryk cupped her elbow and propelled her forward. “Please don’t rush us back inside. In fact, if you’d like, we could return to the hedge and hunt for your mysterious nonexistent object that most definitely wasn’t from a lover.”
Nikolai dropped his hand again, his features tightening. “And how is your father? I heard he’s brokered a gold, steel, and copper trade monopoly with Temavy.”
Vasi stopped, the ache for her father seizing her, and stared up at the night sky. The clouds parted, and moonlight lit the grounds. Vasi took a deep breath and looked out over the estate, the sorry condition of the gardens stark in the silver glow. She grimaced. “I heard he is to return.”
“He’s a masterful negotiator. The treaty he sought was not easily won.” Henryk’s low voice wrapped around Vasi. “Beloch is lucky to have him.”
“Indeed,” Nikolai said, catching up to walk on Vasi’s other side. “The realm owes him a great debt.”
Thinking of what she’d heard at the window, Vasi stopped and stared at Nikolai, determined to get the truth. “I’m sure that debt could be repaid by giving him plenty of time to rest with his family. We haven’t seen him in almost a year.”
Nikolai’s face clouded. “I assume he’ll have a great deal of time with you.”
“You did hear that he is expected to return soon, haven’t you? In the next couple of weeks,” Henryk added, stepping next to his brother. The dark-haired prince quirked an eyebrow and asked, “Or are you a poor spy as well as an abysmal assassin?”
Despite Henryk’s jesting tone, there was an undercurrent of concern in Nikolai’s intensity.
Forcing a smile, Vasi played as if nothing were amiss. “If you promise not to turn me into the guards, I’ll admit to overhearing a little of their conversation—”
Henryk leaned in, his grey eyes so bright in the moonlight they were almost silver. “You just happened to overhear through the open window while you were looking for this mysterious invisible object you still will not tell us about.”
She nodded.
“Which is most definitely not from a lover,” Henryk added. Reaching forward, he ran his fingers through Vasi’s hair, extracting a leaf from the accursed barberry. He held up the red leaf and then let it drift to the grass.
Vasi stifled a gasp as her heart tripped over the next several beats, stunned by the intimate contact. Speechless, she blinked, her gaze bouncing between the princes for several moments.
“Exactly so,” she said, her cheeks heating. “It was not from a lover.” A small laugh, equal parts nerves and excitement, bubbled up and out of her lips. “And as I was looking for that object, I overheard mention of my father’s name.” Vasi made a calculated decision. Perhaps the princes knew something more, so she prodded. “I may have listened a little. It-it sounded as though my father may be required again by the tsar?”
A look passed between them, but then Nikolai frowned and shook his head. “I doubt it,” he said. “The tsar plans to honor your father formally when he returns. Perhaps you misunderstood what they were discussing?”
“I don’t think so.” Vasi looked away and to the ground. As worries crept in, so did doubt, eroding the joy of the news of her father’s return. The tsar had thought her father would be home already. He’d implied Casimir had chosen to stay away longer than was necessary. Had something happened?
The crown prince watched her intently, his fixed attention burrowing deep as if he could read her worries if he just waited long enough. With a sigh, he stepped closer and then slowly reached forward and brushed a loose strand of hair back from Vasi’s face, tucking the lock behind her ear. “Vasi . . .”
The world melted away until it was just the two of them standing in the moonlight.
Nikolai brought both hands up to cup her face, and Vasi stared up into his familiar eyes, wishing she could drown in them. Her lips parted.
“Do you plan to continue your search for your object, milady?” Henryk asked, shattering the intimate moment. “Or could we escort you back inside?”
Nikolai dropped his hands as Vasi pulled back.
Each of the princes held out an arm to Vasi as if she was truly a lady when in truth, even before she was demoted to a house servant, Vasi had never been more than a tradesman’s daughter. For a brief moment, Vasi wanted to take each of their arms and let them escort her in. To be treated as a lady, by these princes no less, would be wonderful . . . until Marika saw them. The thought doused Vasi with her painful reality. Casimir wasn’t home yet, and Marika would make Vasi pay with immediate humiliation and, very likely, inflict a lashing later. Vasi needed to do her best and not create any more conflict as she waited for her father to return.
“No, thank you, Highnesses.” Vasi took a step back and shook her head. “I do not wish to return to the house. Not yet. I’ll bid you farewell.”
Turning, she walked into the grass toward the forest. She’d gather more flowers by the light of the moon or perhaps lie on the hill and watch the sky.
To Vasi’s utter shock, Nikolai and Henryk caught up with her.
“You’re headed toward the woods?” Nikolai asked, a familiar smile on his lips as he spoke of the place they’d often haunted as kids. “I’ll accompany you. It would be a tragedy if Baba Yaga found you alone. I wouldn’t want you to be eaten by the witch.”
Vasi laughed and then sobered as lights in her house flickered on room by room. Her dialogue with the princes needed to come to a close. Her daydream moment would become a nightmare if they were discovered. “I’ll not be going in the woodlands, sire. Furthermore, if you follow me, the party will soon follow you”—she pointed back at the house—“and I’ll escape nothing.”
Nikolai’s pulse feathered in his neck, and he jutted his chin forward with a look of determination.
“Please go back,” Vasi begged in a whisper. “I’m not afraid of the witch in the woods.”
She glanced up at him and saw a fleeting frown cross his handsome face. A few paces back, Henryk stood, also watching, his arms crossed over his chest. His intent attention made her so nervous she forced her gaze back to the more familiar brother.
Henryk joined his brother and tugged on his sleeve. They shared a look, and Nikolai inclined his head. “I hate to leave you, but I understand we must.”
“I believe we will be seeing you again soon, Lady Vasilisa.”
She shook her head, no longer finding fun in the pre
tenses of the princes. “It’s just Vasilisa. It always has been just Vasilisa.”
“You’ve never been just anything,” Nikolai said, extending his hand. When Vasi didn’t take it, he gave her a pointed look and shook his fingers, indicating that she was not getting out of the contact. “Unless I’m just Nikolai.”
Nikolai wrapped his fingers around hers, bowed, and kissed Vasi’s hand. His fingers were calloused, something she hadn’t anticipated, and his lips soft. As he stood, he squeezed her hand. Blushing, she hoped he didn’t taste dirt. After another second, he released her hand, and the loss of contact made Vasi’s heart clench.
Before she could drop her hand, Henryk took it. The dark prince’s fingers were just as calloused as his brother’s, and while Henryk bowed, his silvery gray gaze stayed fixed on her as he lifted her hand to his lips. Just like his brother, his lips felt soft, but something about his kiss and the intensity of his gaze made the contact entirely too intimate.
“And I am just Henryk,” he whispered.
Vasi blushed and then curtsied much lower this time, intentionally offering the deference they both deserved.
Then she ran toward the woods, her heart racing, as if her lies chased her. For underneath the bravado, Vasi was terrified. Alone in the dark, her fears battled into her consciousness; anxiety that her father would return only to be stolen away again made her heart ache. Or even worse, that he would take Marika’s side over Vasi’s, and her life would get worse. Her stomach churned with the thought. Vasi was afraid of Nikolai and Henryk, of all the complications their presence could bring to her life, especially how much torment Marika would cause, and Roza would follow her mother’s example. Worst of all, Vasi feared Lord Baine and his possessive, lewd attentions. Bile burned the back of her throat, and she clenched her teeth. Vasi refused to believe her life would continue on the same as it had the last two months.
