17. Miroslavs Court

Chapter seventeen

Miroslav's Court

Mila

T he clatter of plates and the sound of raucous laughter filled my ears as I entered the dining hall, searching for a familiar face. The entire court—royalty, nobles, trade workers, and servants—had been invited to a feast to celebrate the annual gathering of the nobles. It was the first of many celebrations, Izolda had told me, balls and pageants and banquets that would last until Prophet's Day.

The main dining hall wasn't large enough to accommodate everyone, so most of the servants and trade workers had been relegated to a simpler hall on the lower level. I caught sight of Izolda near the door and let out a sigh of relief. I wouldn't be alone, at least.

"Finding your way around alright?" she asked as I took a seat.

"It's a little overwhelming." I looked around the stone room at the hundreds of people seated along the long tables. I'd never seen so many people in one place before. "Is it always like this?"

She shook her head, spooning a generous helping of pickled cabbage onto my plate. "Only at feasts and such. Most everyone eats in their own quarters, unless the tsar is going to make an appearance. Which he's supposed to do tonight, obviously."

I cast a sharp glance around the room, and Izolda laughed. "He's not here yet. Trust me, when he comes, you'll know. He won't stay long. Just long enough to allow his adoring subjects to express their admiration," she added dryly.

A trumpet blast rendered the hall silent, and the large doors opposite us opened. A page stepped through. "His majesty, Tsar Miroslav of the Blood, Heir of the Sanctioned and rightful ruler of Inzhria. Her majesty, Tsarina Desislava. Their royal highnesses, Grand Duchess Yevgeniya and Grand Duchess Yevpraksiya."

Benches scraped, and I realized belatedly that everyone was standing. I rose to my feet in time to see a round-bellied man bedecked in jewels and fur step up onto a small dais at the front of the room. My stomach clenched. So this was the man who had taken everything from me. I barely noticed the tsarina and grand duchesses standing next to him.

"My people!" Miroslav said in a high voice. "I thank you for your attendance, and I welcome you to my palace. Please, be seated. Enjoy the fruits of our union and the gifts of my court."

No one sat, but the hall broke out into thunderous applause. I clapped as well, not wanting to draw attention to myself, though my throat was tight with disgust. How could they cheer for him? Didn't they know what he was, what he had done? Did no one remember Barbezht and the hundreds of men his soldiers had slaughtered?

For a few moments, he stood smiling, hands raised in acceptance of the praise. At last he turned and strode out of the room, the black fur of his kaftan swaying in his wake. His wife and daughters trailed after him.

The chatter in the hall resumed as everyone took their seats again. Izolda rolled her eyes. "‘Gifts,' my ass," she said, just loud enough for me to hear. "He charges every noble for their room and board, and for that of their retinue."

A deep voice came from behind us. "If it isn't the lovely Izolda Vasilievna. Welcome back to court."

The speaker was a tall, dark-skinned man with high cheekbones. His eyes held a mischievous twinkle as he smiled down at Izolda.

"Alexey!" she said. "I didn't know you were in the capital. Last I heard you were up north." She slid away from me, making space on the bench between us.

"I recently accepted a position with the baron of Arick." He turned to me. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

"This is Sofia Stepanova, a new court seamstress. Fia, this is Alexey Grigorovich."

"It's a pleasure." He took my hand and kissed it softly, never removing his eyes from my face.

I pulled my hand from his grasp and nodded politely. His steady gaze unsettled me.

"Lord Kazimir, huh?" Izolda asked as he took a seat between us. "How has that been? He's got quite the reputation."

"It's not been terrible. He's demanding, but no more so than other nobles. And he has the tsar's favor, so it's an opportunity to improve my position." He turned back to me as he scooped onto his plate several pelmeni, fragrant dumplings filled with meat and onions. "You're from Tsebol? And what do you think of our fair capital?"

"It's beautiful," I said honestly. "What I've seen of it, at least. I only arrived yesterday. It's larger than I expected."

He let out a booming laugh. "I've seen many cities, and none of them were as large as Idesk. The capital makes for an unfair comparison for any city."

"I wouldn't know. I've never been far from Tsebol." It wasn't a lie. Selyik wasn't far from Tsebol. Izolda had told me to keep to the truth as much as possible when telling others about myself. The truth was easier to remember. "I'm looking forward to seeing more of the city."

"We shall have to give you the grand tour." Our eyes met, his gaze intent. I looked away, and Izolda cleared her throat.

"Do you expect to be at court all winter, Izolda?"

She sniffed and tossed her head. "No need to acknowledge me. You were getting along quite well before."

He threw me a wink over his shoulder as he took Izolda's hand. "Hold not your favor from me, fair one! Though I bask in the sunny countenance of Sofia Stepanova, I do not forget the glorious moonlight that radiates from Izolda Vasilievna's face."

Izolda laughed as I shook my head. He was ridiculous. He reminded me a little of Yakov, if Yakov had been more eloquent. An insincere flirt with every woman he met. The sort of person who might have made me laugh, if there hadn't been something almost too earnest in his eyes. He seemed to see through me and straight into my soul.

"I suppose it makes sense that I'm overlooked, then," Izolda said, "if I'm only the moon, and Fia's the sun."

"The sun warms the earth, and the moon pulls the tides." His voice was intense but hinted at a smile as he looked between us. "Both necessary, and both beautiful."

"Flatterer," she accused.

He raised his hands in surrender. "The moon has a harsher burn than the sun. I shall flee the night in favor of the day." He turned his back on her. "There's a dance planned tonight in the greenhouse, Sofia Stepanova. For the servants and trade workers. I hope you'll come?"

Izolda answered for me. "She'll be there."

"I don't know," I said. "It's been a long day, and I'm a bit tired." I'd spent the day unpacking and organizing my workshop. A dance sounded like the last thing I wanted to do.

She gave me a meaningful look around Alexey. "It's the perfect way to get settled in. You can get to know some people, start building a reputation. The best way to get any orders is to get to know the servants. You won't get anywhere at court if Lady Heli's your only client."

I bit my lip. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt, for a little bit."

"Wonderful!" Alexey clapped his hands together. "If you'll excuse me, I see someone I must speak with." He stood and gathered his plate. "I'll see you both tonight."

As he left, Izolda turned a mischievous grin on me.

"What?"

"I think he likes you."

"Hm." I mopped the juices on my plate with a piece of black bread. "He seemed like a flirt."

She laughed. "I've known Alexey for years. He's sweet. A bit dramatic, but he's loyal and kind." She paused. "And good-looking, too."

I rolled my eyes. "Sweet or not, I'm not interested. I'm here to work."

"Building contacts is excellent for your work, as I said. And I have a feeling Alexey would be more than willing to…'build contacts' with you."

I flushed. Alexey Grigorovich was attractive, yes, but I was married. Not that Izolda knew that.

Mila was married. Sofia wasn't.

Before I could organize my thoughts enough to answer, someone approached and whispered in Izolda's ear. She pushed her plate back and stood. "Lady Heli just left. Give me a bit to get her settled for the night, and I'll meet you at your room. We can get ready together."

***

It took two hours of preparation before Izolda pronounced me ready. My sarafan, a warm yellow that complemented my dark skin beautifully, had a belt of red to match the long-sleeved red shirt that showed beneath the dress. A matching povyazka decorated my hair, and my tightly coiled braids had been woven together into a rope down my back.

We walked through the frigid night air into the greenhouse, where we were ushered inside. A band played in the corner, and dozens of people danced among beds of fragrant and exotic flowers I'd never seen before.

"Come on!" Izolda pulled me toward the dancers.

Before I could protest, we were swept up into the dance. It was familiar, a fast-paced tune called a kazachok that I'd danced many times before. A young man about Yakov's age partnered me, his brown face lit up with a smile. I laughed as we spun around, breathless from the exertion.

Too soon, the song ended, the band transitioning seamlessly into a much slower tune. My smiling partner melted back into the crowd of dancers. Izolda had disappeared, but I wasn't left alone for long.

"If it isn't the fair sun, Sofia Stepanova," Alexey Grigorovich said, taking my hand and pulling me into the new dance.

"Izolda insisted I come." I half-shrugged as he led me in a wide circle, following the other dancers.

"I'm glad she did. It would be a tragedy to deprive everyone of seeing the most beautiful woman at court."

I laughed despite myself. "I believe Izolda was right, sir. You are a flatterer."

"You wound me, madam." He didn't look wounded, with his wide grin showing all his white teeth. "I speak nothing but the truth."

I raised my eyebrows in doubt but elected not to answer. The movements of the dance drew us apart.

"How long have you worked for Lady Heli?" he asked when we came back together.

The first chance to test my knowledge of Sofia's history. "Just a few years. I apprenticed with her previous seamstress."

"You've come a long way in a short time."

He had no idea how true that was. Unsure of how to respond, I focused on the movements of the dance.

"Do you have any family?"

"No. My mother died when I was young, and my father died in service to Tsar Miroslav."

"I'm sorry to hear that." His smile disappeared, sympathy filling his face. "You have no other family?" When I shook my head, he added, "And suitors?"

"I—" I hesitated, caught off guard by the question. "No."

The music ended, and he let go of my hand. "I hope I may have the opportunity to change that." He bowed.

The room was stifling. A churning sensation developed in my stomach. He was near, far too near, and the earnestness on his face… Filled with a sudden need for fresh air, I muttered, "I have to go." I turned and fled.

Once outside, it was easier to breathe. I stood with my back to the greenhouse, relishing the cold air on my heated skin.

No one had mentioned what to do if I found myself romantically pursued at court. I was married, but Sofia Stepanova wasn't. There was no reason for Sofia to reject the advances of an attractive, eligible suitor. And whatever else he was, Alexey Grigorovich was an attractive man.

Otets' Blood. I'd been at court less than two days and already found myself in a mess.

Not wanting to go back to the dance and risk seeing him again, I walked slowly back to my quarters. Izolda would discover I'd left soon enough. For now, I needed to be alone.

Back in my bedroom, I built up the fire and took a seat on the nearby bed. I could guess what Han would say about Alexey Grigorovich's not-so-subtle advance. Han wasn't as hot-headed as Yakov, but if he thought someone was pursuing his wife, he wouldn't hesitate to call the man out.

Still, Alexey Grigorovich served Lord Kazimir. I shuddered, rubbing my hands together for warmth. Getting close to him might give me an opportunity to exact vengeance on the man who killed my son. And Kazimir held Miroslav's favor. Ingratiating myself with the manservant might lead to more information for the tsar, as well. Flirtation wasn't infidelity. I could encourage his attentions, use the dalliance to my advantage, and still remain true to Han.

I sighed. I didn't need to worry about Han. The distraction could put us both in danger. What I needed was to focus on the task at hand. I owed it to everyone we had lost. I owed it to Han.

I stood and stretched, my mind made up. I could use Alexey Grigorovich to my own ends, could find a way to use his interest to my advantage and help end this war. Whatever I had to do to bring down Miroslav would be worth it.