20. Complications

Chapter twenty

Complications

Mila

" F uck," I muttered as I pricked my finger. I threw the needle and fabric down and sucked at the tiny wound. I hadn't bled on the fabric, thank Otets. Princess Alisa was sure to notice if I did. I reached for the needle again, but it had fallen when I threw down my fabric. I knelt down, searching the floor. There—a slight sparkle next to the table leg. Object in hand, I stood, only to smack my head on the table.

"Witness, Prophet, and Steward," I swore, rubbing the spot I'd hit. The day kept getting worse and worse.

It wasn't as though I had any pressing work. My only orders were from Lady Heli and Princess Alisa, and they were leaving with the court in the morning. I tucked the needle safely into its pouch and stretched. Maybe getting out of the room would improve my mood.

Bundled up in my fur-lined overcoat, I headed outside with no particular destination in mind. Snow crunched beneath my feet. It was a bad time of year for travel, let alone for battle. A snowstorm could strand the whole army on the road. Then again, the good season was short. The winter snows lasted nearly half the year, and the spring and fall rains could be as bad as the snow, if not worse.

If Miroslav hoped to ambush his brother's army with this sudden attack, he was mistaken. Otets willing, Lady Heli had gotten word to Tsar Borislav, and he was preparing a defense even as Miroslav readied to leave.

A defense, I hoped, that Han would be far from. I said a silent prayer that the tsar wouldn't expect Han to be on the battlefield. He'd practiced swordplay with Yakov, I knew, but he would never be a skilled fighter without his sword hand. He couldn't even write well, despite constant practice; he dictated most of his letters to me or to Kyril Kyrilovich. If he fought, he'd never survive.

No, I couldn't think like that. The tsar wasn't stupid. He knew where Han's skills lay, and they weren't on the battlefield. He'd keep Han away from the fighting.

"Ah, if it isn't the fair sun Sofia!"

Lost in thought, I hadn't noticed Alexey Grigorovich walking across the courtyard toward me. He reached me and bowed. "Whose day are you off to brighten today?"

"Good afternoon," I said tersely. I was in no mood to banter.

"Do clouds darken the sun's countenance?" He fell into step beside me. "Would that I could remove those clouds."

"Aren't you preparing for a battle?" I snapped.

"I was on my way to the stables." He took my arm and pulled me off the path, stopping under the shade of an evergreen tree. I tensed at the touch, but he let his hand drop. He took a step back, giving me space as I folded my arms across my chest. "I apologize if I've offended you, Sofia Stepanova. I meant no disrespect."

I took a deep breath, uncrossing my arms to shove my hands in my pockets. The man was harmless, if a flirt. "I'm a little on edge," I said by way of apology.

"Is it because of the battle?"

I nodded, not meeting his eye.

"You won't be traveling with the court, will you?"

"No, I just…" I scanned my mind for a reason that wouldn't arouse suspicion. "My father died in the last uprising," I said finally, looking up at him. "The talk of battle brings back memories, I suppose."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

I waved a hand, dismissing his concern. "It was a long time ago. I shouldn't let it bother me."

"It's my experience that pain is no respecter of time. But I'll do my best to end this uprising, so no talk of battle can cloud the sun's countenance." He winked.

I rolled my eyes, my lips tugging upward in spite of my sour mood. "Alexey Grigorovich, I believe you have an inflated sense of self-importance."

He flashed a grin. "If increasing my importance is what it takes to set your mind at ease, I'll do it gladly."

I shook my head. The man was shameless, but at least his ridiculous conversation was a distraction from my worries. "I should let you get back to work. I'm keeping you from the baron, and I was going to see Izolda." Since she would be leaving with the court, I doubted she would have time to spend with me, but it wouldn't hurt to find out.

"I'll escort you." He offered me his arm.

I hesitated. "I wouldn't want to make you late."

"Nonsense." He took my arm and tucked it in his. "Lord Kazimir has enough to think about. He'll hardly notice my absence. Lord Ilya's quarters are on my way, besides."

I let him guide me into the castle. He kept up a steady stream of cheerful conversation as we walked down the servants' corridor, pointing out doors and telling me about the nobles who lived behind them. He seemed to sense I wasn't in the mood to talk, because he didn't pause for any responses beyond the occasional "oh?"

"And here, of course, we have the quarters of Lord Ilya, baron of Tsebol," he said as we reached the door. "I trust you can find your—ah, here is the moon!"

The door in question had opened to reveal Izolda, her arms full of linens. Catching sight of us, she arched a brow, looking amused. I yanked my arm from Alexey's, guilty heat suffusing my body, and she smothered a laugh.

"Alexey." She nodded a greeting. "If I'm the moon, and Fia's the sun, what does that make you?"

"Blessed by Otets." He bowed, a self-satisfied grin on his face. "My master awaits, but I hope to see both of you soon." He strode off down the hallway.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Izolda turned to me, smirking.

"What?"

"Nothing." She started down the hall. "I'm taking these to the laundry. Come with?"

I fell into step "It's a bit late to be doing laundry, isn't it? They won't be dry by morning."

"It's just bed sheets. Everything we're taking is already packed." She glanced sideways at me. "So what was that about?"

"Alexey? Nothing. He caught me outside, and I couldn't think how to get rid of him without being rude."

"I see." Her tone was skeptical, and I scowled. "And I suppose you won't give him a favor to take into battle?" She tutted. "To think, you could send a man off to his death without a warm thought to comfort him."

My chest tightened. No, we weren't talking about Han. Izolda didn't even know Han existed. He wouldn't be in the battle. I took a deep breath, fighting to get air in my lungs.

"Fia?" Izolda realized I had stopped walking. She turned around. "You okay? You've got an odd look."

"I'm fine." I took another breath and started walking again.

"Hey." She stepped into an alcove, jerking her head in indication that I should follow. She peered down the hallway, then dumped the linens on the floor and crossed her arms. "There's no one to hear. Talk to me."

The shadowy alcove darkened—Izolda's doing, I realized, with the minor shadow-melding abilities she'd inherited from her grandmother. The effect was disconcerting, the darkness unnatural, but no one passing by would see us unless they were looking for us.

Still, I didn't want to talk. "It's nothing."

"And I'm the grand duchess." Through the shadows, I saw her lean against the wall. "You can trust me, you know. I may not know who you were before all this, but you're not my friend because I knew the real Sofia. I respect you. I like you. If there's something wrong, I'd like to help."

I sighed. "It's not something you can help with. It's this battle. This," I gestured vaguely, "everything."

"Was it what I said about Alexey?"

"No! Well, not exactly." I bit my lip. How much should I reveal? I could trust Izolda—she had as much to lose as me, if I was discovered as a spy—but should I tell her about Han?

I had to. She was my friend. And Otets knew I needed a friend. Someone to confide in. "There's…someone else."

"You have a suitor?"

I smiled ruefully. "Not exactly." I glanced down the hall. Still empty, but I lowered my voice. "I'm married."

"Huh."

Not quite the overwhelming reaction I'd expected. "He's—"

"The scarred stud who was staying in the baron's wing at the castle in Tsebol?"

I froze, and Izolda laughed.

"There aren't many people who get to stay in the baron's wing. You were both there at the same time, so I assumed he was related to you somehow."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

She shrugged. "You didn't trust me yet. You didn't even know me. I didn't want to push it."

"Oh." I stared unseeing at the wall, mind reeling.

"You think he's going to be in the battle?" she asked after a moment.

"I don't know. I hope not."

"I see."

I sighed. "And Alexey…"

"Complicates things."

"Exactly." Even though there was nothing real between me and Alexey Grigorovich, I couldn't help feeling like I was being unfaithful to Han.

The shadows around us lightened. "Well, no sense dwelling on things we can't change. Stay busy, and try not to think about it. Take one step at a time."

"Thank you, Izolda." It was a relief to have someone else to confide my worries in.

"No problem." She grinned. "C'mon. I need to get these to the laundress before the baroness starts missing me."