by Raye Wagner
“The land belongs to Lord Baine, which means the food is his, too. If you want to talk with him, fine. But I’m not going to be your accomplice,” he grumbled. “Now, either you get off his property, or I’ll have to arrest you for trespassing. Lord Baine might be lenient on you, but I wouldn’t count on it.”
Vasi stomped her foot in frustration. The dirt billowed around her skirt, and she sneezed. All she could smell was the dry, packed soil, and as she lifted her hand to itch her nose, she noticed just how filthy her fingers were. She could taste the soil in the air, and she wondered if the soldier’s head was filled with it. His actions sure seemed like it.
Vasi wouldn’t find any leniency at Lord Baine’s hand, not after what she did; she was more likely to find shackles or worse. “I’ll leave,” she said, looking up at the sky to gauge the time. Perhaps she could find another farm and harvest more food. “Are there any farms open for gleaners?”
The soldier snorted. “Where are you from?” he asked incredulously. “This entire town is owned by the Duke of Strasny, and he’s never allowed gleaners to enter his fields. Now get on. I’m not risking my job for another moment, no matter how pretty you are.”
Vasi rolled her eyes at the compliment but followed the soldier as he led her off the property.
There was no time to go to a neighboring township and find food, not on foot, which only left what was available in Lord Baine’s field. If the food could only be released on his orders, she’d find a way to make him give those orders. Her hand slipped into her apron pocket, finding the hilt of the knife there. Vasi remembered the sickening feel of her blade cutting into the Duke's flesh, but if threatening to do it again would save her father, could she do it? Perhaps, that was the true test. The only way to complete the impossible task may be to confront Lord Baine once and for all.
She didn’t relish the truth, and she was sickeningly reluctant, but if holding a knife to the Duke of Strasny’s throat was her only option, then she must.
The true difficulty would not be gaining access to the duke but getting away, which would be near impossible.
Once they reached the street, the soldier stepped back but remained close enough to stop her from getting over the fence again.
Resigned to the awfulness of her task, Vasi turned toward the great manor of Strasny. Divots marred the road, and the few homes she passed were faded and run-down. The lots were so small, the hovels leaned on their neighbors to stay upright. Desperation hung in the air, seeming to mirror her own.
A pounding grew, reverberating through her legs and up her body, and she glanced up to see a horse and rider barreling down the narrow road.
“Whoa,” the rider yelled.
Vasi leapt from the street, but her boots tangled in her laces, and she tumbled to the ground.
Her anxiety and powerlessness morphed into hot anger, and she got to her feet and brushed the dirt from her hands as she turned to give the careless rider a piece of her mind. Perhaps the Horseman was right and these Beloch nobles weren’t worth saving.
“How dare you,” she snapped. “Who do you think you . . .” The words lodged in her throat as she recognized Prince Nikolai striding toward her.
“I’m so sorry . . .” he said, and his concerned expression morphed into shock. “Vasilisa?” His gaze darted around the roadside, and then he surged forward, grabbed her arm, and pulled her toward a dilapidated lean-to on Lord Baine’s land. There was no missing the urgency in his voice as he whispered, “My brother told me he saw you. I’ve been looking everywhere. Hurry.”
Vasi rushed to keep up with him, fresh anxiety crawling on her skin and mixing with the layer of filth already there. “What’s the matter?”
“Where have you been?” he asked as he tugged her inside and closed the door behind them.
Vasi’s heart pounded, beating against the emotion already caged in her chest, and she glared at the prince.
25
Sunlight poured into the space around them from the caved-in roof. Prince Nikolai faced Vasi then, his gaze taking in all of her disheveled, filthy appearance as he studied her from head to toe. “Are you okay? Are you injured. Do you need anything? Let me help you.”
She didn’t answer. Anger blocked her throat like a plug, and no words would slip past.
“I’ve been going out of my mind. You just vanished . . . your step-mother said—please, just say something.”
She couldn’t. Vasi blinked, clenching her hands and teeth as if that could hold her back.
His expression twisted, and he snapped, “Seriously, Vasilisa. Are you okay?”
She shook her head with disgust. He’d gotten engaged to Roza; something about that stung in a way Vasi hated to acknowledge but she couldn’t totally ignore either. “Don’t pretend you care about us common folk.”
He drew back as if she’d struck him. “What do you mean? When have I ever given the impression I didn't care for the common folk?”
She started with the most pressing issue. “You let Lord Baine keep all the food?”
Nikolai’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What food? What are you talking about?”
“The food in the fields surrounding the village,” she explained, her voice dripping disdain. Her patience was thin, and she was running out of time. “You let him keep everything.”
“All the food in his fields?” he asked incredulously. “All the food that he plants, waters, grows, and harvests . . . Who else should get it?”
Vasi huffed in frustration. When he said it like that, it sounded reasonable, logical even. Her words were coming out all wrong. “Fine. I don’t care that he gets what’s his. But did you know he doesn’t allow gleaners? Not at all. So, what about the poor? What about the starving? He’s the Duke of Strasny, and as such, he has an obligation to his people.”
Nikolai ground his teeth together. “Do you think he doesn’t care about them?”
Vasi grimaced. Was he blind? Nikolai had to know, but he asked anyway? “You know he doesn’t care!” She stomped her foot, emphasizing her frustration. “Did you even see the people by the stage? They’re starving. Soldiers drove me from his lands, threatening to arrest me if I took anything.”
The prince’s jaw dropped, and it took him several moments to close his gaping mouth. “Why were you gleaning? Vasilisa, why did you run away?”
Could he really be ignorant of the events transpiring around him? “What do you think happened?”
“That day, the last day I saw you . . .” He swallowed as if recalling the events of the day were painful. “I told your mother Henryk and I had decided to switch our engagements.” He bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you . . . I tried to ask you, but . . . I, we thought it would be best.” He took a deep breath and faced her. “I wanted to marry you.”
Vasi shuffled back, in shock, and whispered, “You did what?”
“I didn’t have your permission yet, and I’m sorry. I know you’re angry at me. But I couldn’t go ahead with . . . I don’t love Roza. I thought you would change your mind and forgive me. I know we don’t know each other like we once did, Vasilisa, but—”
“It was your fault,” Vasi whispered. “What happened that day . . .” It all made such horrible sense now, why Vasi had been married off as soon as Marika returned from the palace.
“My fault? What are you talking about? Your mother said you ran away because you wanted to marry my cousin, not me. I thought . . . I hoped it wasn’t true, but you never returned. And the way he looked at you at the ball,” he said, stopping to school his features. “I thought maybe there was something I didn’t know.” He leaned toward her and continued, “I know my cousin is wealthy and handsome, but Vasi, he's not a good man.”
Was the prince delusional? He couldn’t believe Vasi had feelings for Lord Baine. “Your cousin is vile. He practically attacked me that night at the ball. Didn’t Henryk tell you?”
“No, he only said he saw you outside. Wait. My cousin attacked you? When?�
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“After he dragged me out of the ball.”
“He dragged you out of the ball?” Nikolai asked, incredulous. “I was told the two of you disappeared. I-I thought perhaps he’d deceived you into believing yourself in love with him.”
“In love?” Vasi shook, her whole body roiling with disgust. “I will never marry your cousin, and Marika is not my mother.” She didn’t have time to get sidetracked with the princes’ agendas right now. She only had until dark. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, and then immediately amended, “Even if it did, I don’t have time to explain it. I need your help.”
His blue eyes sparked with concern. “What are you talking about? Are you in more trouble?”
“I need to feed the village before sundown. It’s imperative that I do so.” She held her hand out to stop him from interrupting. “I won’t tell you more, not right now. Please, just listen.” If Vasi trusted the prince more, she might tell him everything, but he was engaged to Roza and had been sauntering through town with the depraved Lord Baine.
The prince closed his mouth and waved that she continue.
This was the tricky part. She didn’t want to ask him to do any more than necessary, but in truth, she needed him. She needed his help.
“In the duke’s eastern field there are mounds of vegetables. Thousands of pounds. Don’t ask me how, but I promise they are not the duke’s.” She flinched with the lie and hurried to add, “There is a small fraction that I used to produce the rest.” She held out her hands, showing him her torn and dirty nails as proof. “I dug those up myself. The rest I brought . . . in from somewhere else.” She cringed, knowing how terrible the explanation sounded.
“You want me to take the food from the field and feed the people?” he asked, shaking his head. “What you’re proposing . . .”
She knew what he was going to say. He was going to say that it had never been done. But it had. There were records of times during famines when the king’s own crops had been used to feed the people. Not in Nikolai’s lifetime, but the records were there. A king, and in this case a duke, had an obligation to his people.
Vasi let her shoulders drop in defeat as she saw the excuses in Nikolai’s eyes. A sadness filled her chest, and her estimation of the prince crumbled. “Are you the crown prince or not?”
The blood drained from Nikolai’s face, and his eyes widened. He puffed his chest out, but when he spoke, his voice sounded weary. “What’s that supposed to mean?” When she didn’t answer, he said in a sharper tone, “Have you forgotten who I am?”
Vasi shook her head, seeing that his pride would be her downfall. As the crown prince, next to his father, no one had more power in the entirety of Beloch. She thought Nikolai was different. She’d hoped he was different. With a sad smile of resignation, she said, “I’ve never been more aware than right now.”
Vasi knelt to tie her boots just so she wouldn’t have to look at his face any longer. His refusal to act could have been a dagger; it hurt her heart so much. She took slow, deep breaths, trying to release her disappointment, but the emotion grew, quickly solidifying into fury at him for, once again, proving he wasn’t the man she thought he was. Hopefully, the extra seconds would prevent her from making a stupid decision like smacking the prince upside his too-attractive head. He was beautiful, and he’d had her love since they were children. But all the good looks and fond memories in the world meant nothing if there was no substance of honor or humility in his heart.
“I understand that your stepmother lied about you wanting to marry my cousin, but did you run away so you wouldn’t have to marry me?” Nikolai murmured. “Is that truly why you left?”
Vasi froze, holding the laces in her hands, stunned by his question. How could he actually think that? She finished the knot and stood to face him.
Nikolai’s tanned skin held a tinge of pink, barely visible in the hovel. He studied her with wide eyes, and his fidgeting hands betrayed his nervousness.
The dilapidated hut closed in around them, and for the first time since he’d led her into the enclosed space, she was struck with the inappropriateness of their tete-a-tete. Roza soon would be his wife. Vasi held little love for her stepsister, but Roza had done Vasi a service in helping her escape. She owed a debt. Her heart pounded, and her mouth was suddenly more parched than before.
“I should’ve offered my congratulations on your engagement sooner—”
“Don’t,” he whispered, covering her mouth with his hand. “Please, don’t. Just tell me the truth. Did you leave so you wouldn’t have to marry me?”
His hand was warm and rough against her lips, and she stared up at him, wishing it was different. That he was different. But if he wouldn’t feed hungry villagers when it was within his power, was he really any better than Lord Baine?
But Nikolai’s lack of honor was no reason for her to lie. Vasi shook her head and then clasped his hand and pulled it away from her mouth. “No. I did not flee to avoid marriage . . . with you.”
The prince twisted his hand, entwining his fingers with hers and clutched it to his chest. “Then why did you run away?”
Vasi stared at their hands, and a part of her heart yearned for his touch to continue. She’d loved him, only him, for all of her life. And that he felt the same made her heart pound as she yearned for more. But not only was this a mirage, it was a betrayal. She wanted Nikolai to have honor to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves.
And Vasi needed to do the same. She tried to snatch her hand away, but the prince held it fast.
“Just tell me,” he said, dipping his head to look Vasi in the eye.
“Marika had me betrothed to Lord Baine,” she said, closing her eyes to avoid having to see his pity as she continued. “Actually, she sold me to Lord Baine as there was money exchanged, and he’d come to collect.” Shame filled her as she thought of the vileness of her would-be husband. “I would not consent, and my papa would never make me, but I had no other option that day but to run.”
Silence filled the crumbling shack, weighty with emotions unsaid, and Vasi finally opened her eyes.
“Why would she do that?” Nikolai asked, disgust and horror battling over his features.
Vasi looked at the prince. How could he not grasp why Marika had wanted to see Vasi married off?
“No.” He released a strangled laugh filled with anxiety. “You misunderstand. I understand her wanting to get you out of the way to make an advantageous match for her daughter. But of all the men in Rizy, why pick Emeroi Baine? He’s . . . He’s the worst kind of person.”
“Probably the money and quite possibly spite. Marika doesn’t like me if you hadn’t noticed.” Then she scrunched up her nose and said, “If you hate him so much, why do you defend his rights to the food?”
Nikolai shrugged. “I was defending his rights, not him as a person. We all know what he is. Dad likes him because he’s resourceful, but . . .” The prince blushed before continuing, “He’s . . . not ethical.”
“So why come to visit him? I saw you walking together earlier; you seemed to like him then.”
Closing his eyes, he dipped his head. “I was asking if there was a way to break the engagement contract. Father listens to Lord Baine.” He looked up at her, his gaze begging for her understanding. “It’s not that I don’t like Roza—No, that’s a lie. I don’t like her. I might’ve protested when my father threw me in the bargain, but I thought . . . with my brother willing to switch . . .”
His words made butterflies take flight within her abdomen, but what either of them wanted in this moment didn’t matter. She shook her head. “No, just no. I’m never going to forget that you’re to blame for sending my father to Cervene. And whether you wish to or not, you plan to marry my sister, and you’re acting dishonorable. I need to go. The sun will set in a couple hours, perhaps less, and I still need to find a way—”
“To feed the township,” he finished for her, squeezing her hand. “I’m so—there’s nothing I can say
to express how sorry I am, Vasi?” His thumb brushed the back of her skin, and he studied her face as if she were the most beautiful creature he’d ever beheld. “What can I do?”
She nodded, her heart thawing a fraction toward the prince. In truth, according to societal rules, she was acting dishonorable too, running away from her arranged marriage and hiding in a small enclosure with the crown prince, who was betrothed to another.
“I’m willing to sacrifice anything to save my father, Nikolai.” There was no line she wasn’t willing to cross, so Vasi pulled her hand from the prince’s. She clasped both hands to her chest, and dropping to her knees, she swallowed her pride and begged. “Will you please help me? I’ll do anything.”
“Holy djinn,” he said in a strangled voice. “Please, Vasi, stand up.” He reached for her, pain bright in his eyes when she shook her head. “I never thought I’d see you beg.”
She stood slowly and brushed off the front of her dress. “Now do you understand how serious I am?”
“You need never beg, most especially of me. I want to help you. I always want to help you.” He cupped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her head so she looked him in the eyes. His blue eyes were bright with emotion, and he offered her a tender smile. “You’re right, Vasi. He has an obligation as the duke to care for his subjects.” He pursed his lips. “And as the prince, so do I. I was wrong and prideful. I’ll go to him now.” He released her chin, and his fingers trailed over her cheek before dropping to his side. With a hopeful smile, he extended his hand and asked, “Will you accompany me?”
She shook her head.
“Ah, right, of course. I’ll see what I can do about your betrothal as well, shall I? Perhaps . . .” He stepped in even closer. “May I ask you one question, Vasilisa, before I go?”
