Prince and the Throne (Fedosian Wars #2)

17. House of Silver

seventeen

House of Silver

The Chartorisky port was a smaller Krakova, with a handful of grand structures and the rest a cluster of wooden huts with mucky streets running through them. Though the ocean brought a warm draft, it was still winter in Fedosia, and people sitting at the harbor in thin shirts, some barefoot even, was a harrowing sight. Like vultures, they were waiting for something dead and fat to wash ashore. Those who had a boat or even a raft were already in the grey waters circling the dying Chartorisky ships. They’d been running away with their wealth and these people were going to try their fortune diving after the sinking ships.

The setting sun refracted with the colors of the rainbow over the ocean and the soft pillow clouds, but the port was grey, the water cold, as the House of Chartorisky took its last breath before drowning at the bottom of the Zapadnoi Morye.

Sofia had seen sailing ships, grand up close with tall sails, sure, but a wooden ladle tied to a puff of cloud from the distance. Yet she’d never seen the Durnov Defender before, a floating iron monstrosity with funnels like the crooked teeth of a comb, spewing heavy black smoke that hung around it rather than dissipate in the air. Like a diseased thing, it dropped iron worms into the water, gold tipped but darksteel otherwise, and they were ravaging the wooden hulls of the Chartorisky ships.

It was loud at the pier. Dying ships groaned, the wood popping and the cables snapping. As Sofia stood on the wooden pier, troubled by the sight, Aleksei was beside her.

“Can she swim?” she asked.

“Not very well,” he said.

Aleksei had been looking for Zoya. The soldiers Niko had brought inland from the border, the duke’s men, were acting like animals, like foreign invaders rather than imperial soldiers, and the prince did nothing to correct them. With each passing day, Niko looked less like his brother and more like his mother, and Sofia could see the hope Aleksei once had for Fedosia’s future fading like a memory of a dream after you wake up.

Scavengers circling, cannons firing from the dying ships as well as from the port, and with people in the water, the ocean looked like a bustling market with only misery for sale. It was cold to stand on the dry pier draped in a fur lined cloak, so Sofia couldn’t imagine swimming in the ocean. Come morning, the beach would be littered with corpses and debris.

“Aleksei.” Dominik had come up behind them. He was one of the few sentinels Sofia recognized by the voice. “His Highness grants you the audience you sought.”

“Yeah,” Aleksei said. “Give us a moment.”

“I’ll take you to the prince when you’re ready.” Dominik left.

At first, the sentinels had trouble addressing Aleksei by his name, but it’d been a while, and Ignat was jailed because he wouldn’t call Eugene ‘Captain’, and that was the color of the banner Niko raised.

A crewman washed ashore, and a few people immediately fought over his boots. They were behaving like rats. The seagulls were loud overhead and bird droppings covered the deck. Sofia turned away. She had been curious about the Defender but now regretted having seen it.

“Sofia.” Aleksei frowned. “I’ve been carrying around bad news all day. I didn’t know how to tell you, I’m sorry. But I suppose it’s better you hear it from me than from Nikolas.” He took a long pause, his eyes on the horizon where the sun set orange and red. “A train returned from Bone Country twenty days ago. Dariy Apraksin sent a message along, and it came with a rider this morning. Seniya is a few hundred miles from here.” He was stalling and Sofia’s dread grew. “Vasily is dead and Usolya has fallen. After his arrangement with the Menshikov fell through, Lev couldn’t garner any real support in the east, and there appears to have been infighting in Usolya.”

“Lev?” Sofia whispered.

“Usolya has fallen,” he repeated.

“And what does the Pulyazin say? Apraksin isn’t the only house near Usolya, and such significant news would be reported more than once, surely?”

“I don’t know,” said Aleksei. “I believe there’s another train leaving soon. I’ll ride to Seniya and deliver any letter you want to send to Pulyazin.”

She shook her head. She wouldn’t believe Lev died, but the thought of her brother stuck in the frozen wasteland with dwindling allies hurt her heart.

“Niko won’t hear of peace, I suppose. But will you speak to him, anyway? This is wasteful.” She gestured at the ocean. “Lord Durnov, my papa, Erik Vietinghoff, the Menshikov, the Chartorisky, and now Vasily… Enough dying. No one is winning, and I don’t even know what we’re fighting over. Do you?”

“I can try,” Aleksei said. The sadness weighed the corners of his eyes, and it made him look older, more tired. He seemed to be dragging his heels and barely getting by. The last interaction she caught between the brothers, Niko turned and walked away when Aleksei was speaking, and now Aleksei had to seek an audience through the steward just to see Niko.

The prince didn’t even speak to Sofia now because she’d yelled at him to do something about the behavior of the soldiers. They were assaulting women out in the streets.

Only a day after her falling out with Niko, soldiers attacked the inn Sofia and Aleksei had been staying at, killed the innkeeper for nothing, beat young women and old men, dragged Sofia by the hair, tore her dress, and she survived with a few bruises and nothing more only because Aleksei had forgotten something and returned. It was hard to believe such men had mothers and sisters, and now Sofia couldn’t even go to the washroom by herself, but they were still at Chartorisky port because Aleksei had been waiting to speak with Niko and there was no one to take Sofia to Krakova. Ignat had said he would, but he was in the dungeon now, and that was how this was going.

“Go see your brother, and let’s go home, Aleksei.” Sofia took his hand. The fractured bones were mended but Niko had broken his brother’s heart. What for, Sofia didn’t understand. Perhaps such was the effect of power… Perhaps Fedosia would have been better with Rodion at the helm. Every time she did something, it appeared, chaos of unintended consequences followed.

The prince sat on a red velvet bergère chair, dressed in all black with his legs crossed, in the drawing room of what used to be the Chartorisky manor. The Shield red banner was hung behind him, but they hadn’t taken down the paintings of the Chartorisky, giving the space an air of oddity. The prince was in the middle of the room, as though on display, and Eugene was on a settee by the window, ankle across the knee, and thin white smoke curling from his mouth with the smell of burning poppy.

There were others in the room. Sofia recognized Lady Durnova, and a man in a brown robe seated next to her introduced himself as Luminary Matvey. He was a somber looking man with a long black beard.

“Lady Guard,” Matvey said. “It’s a blessing to meet you.”

“Likewise, Parson.” Sofia didn’t know how to address him because ‘Luminary’ was not a real title in the church.

Aleksei stood beside her with his hands clasped at the back. There weren’t any vacant chairs in the room, and it felt awkward as though they were servants.

“Zoya has been captured,” the prince said. “Her execution will be tomorrow. I’ve been advised burning at the stake is the most merciful I can be to a traitor. So, that’s what I went with. I thought you might want to know.”

“The girl has no alchemy. There is no need, Prince,” said Aleksei. “I’ll find and bring you Daniil. Just strip Zoya of land and title. That is the most common punishment for a female member of the family.”

“Well, her execution will be tomorrow. It’s been talked over and decided, unfortunately. I wasn’t asking for your opinion on the matter,” said Niko.

Aleksei stared down at the floor. Since this was the tone Niko was taking with his brother, Sofia should have kept her mouth shut, but she asked, “I hear a train will be leaving for Bone Country. May I go with it?” She’d surprised Aleksei and he turned to her.

“Why?” Niko frowned.

“I’d like to go speak with Lev. I’m certain peace can be negotiated between our houses,” she said.

“No,” Niko said. “No peace. I want his head.”

“Oh, I see. Good luck, then,” Sofia snapped. The thick red curtains swayed at the hem as a draft passed through the room though there hadn’t been an open window.

“Give us a name.”

Niko’s scarlet eyes ballooned, and he twisted, slowly, in his chair and looked back. There was nothing to see. Sofia kept the stranger at bay, convinced it would be another chaos she introduced to the world should she give him another name. The pond wasn’t done rippling from the last rock she’d tossed.

Since the day the prince pushed Teo off the cliff, Sofia was becoming convinced, little by little, that Aleksei had really killed his brother, and the boy sitting on the red chair was an imposter. Soulless, the Guards would call him, but it was such a difficult thing to believe, blurring the line between lore and life, and she kept it to herself. What new carnage would she bring to Fedosia by claiming such a thing? Was it a bad omen even to suspect the sitting monarch of Fedosia of being a debauched creature?

Who would she tell, anyway? Aleksei? That would be a fine way to get him killed.

“Nikolas!” Aleksei barked because he’d said something, and Niko was still eyeing the curtains.

The prince turned, taken aback by Aleksei's tone.

“Give Zoya a lesser sentence. Cruelty is unbecoming of you,” Aleksei said.

“I can’t,” the prince said.

“Then I suppose we are done,” Aleksei said. “You’ve turned into Burkhard, you’re worse than your mother, and I’m done with you. And Eugene, if you can’t tell Niko what he’s doing is wrong, you’re exactly what they say you are, a coward, a traitor, a bitter old man, and a conniving bootlicker. Don’t fucken call me when Krakova starves this winter because you sent all our grain trying to win Fedya over and you can’t control the mob rushing Raven, and don’t call me especially when Lev cuts your throat in your sleep because city patrol is bought and sold by the Guards.”

“Lev is dead!” Niko yelled. “Fedya will bring me his head when I send him the grain Mother owes him.”

“Fedya Pulyazin is coming to Krakova on the train to bring you Lev Guard’s head,” said Aleksei. “ Every part of that sentence is false, and if you don’t understand that, it’s because you’re stupid and the captain of your sentinels is stupid, and you two together don’t listen to anyone who might know better.”

“Why would he lie?” Niko frowned.

“Ask someone who cares.” Aleksei turned on his heels and marched out.

Niko mouthed something after Aleksei, and she thought he said, ‘I’m sorry.’

“Well, that went well,” Eugene said.

Sofia remained a moment longer, not knowing what to make of it. The two houses of the Bone Country both claimed Lev had passed. Was it true?

“If Lord Fedya brings you anything, may I see it?” she asked, her voice barely audible even to herself.

“Sure.” Niko just looked sad now, pursing his lips and holding back tears. “I suppose he hates me now.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” she said. “But he’s angry with you… Niko, he doesn’t ask you for much and he’s the only person,” her eyes narrowed at Eugene, “who genuinely cares for your wellbeing. Perhaps consider being merciful to Zoya Chartorisky, not because she’s deserving, but because Aleksei had asked you to be.” She curtsied. “Something to consider, Your Highness.”

She backed out of the room, then sat on the marble stairs with silver railings because she couldn’t breathe. Had Lev died alone in the wretched Bone Country? Was her whole family gone now?

She sobbed as quietly as she could manage but couldn’t catch her breath and had been heaving with her hand over her mouth when a white handkerchief dropped in front of her face.

Looking up, she saw Dominik. “Thank you.”

He sat down beside her and tossed a casual look over his shoulder. “May I give you something and you won’t tell Lord Lev you got it from me, should he ask?”

Sofia sighed, crumpling the handkerchief in her hand. “I suppose.”

“Here.” He reached into his vambrace and pulled out a white rose.

Sofia took it and studied it, trying to understand the significance of it.

“I stole it from Semyon Skuratov because he turned me down and that never happens with young lords of a certain persuasion,” he said. “I’ve had it for three years now, and it doesn’t wilt. I believe it’s Lord Lev’s enchantment, like the evergreen garden of the archmage, but that garden died when the archmage passed, yet this rose remains untouched by time.”

Sofia embraced him. “Thank you.”

“But don’t tell Lord Lev. He may get the wrong impression because men gift me extraordinary things all the time, and I don’t mean to cause trouble for Lord Semyon. He has a golden heart, and I’ve taken the rose as a token to remember good men exist. I meant no harm, and at the time I hadn’t known the significance of the rose, only that Lord Semyon kept it on his person.”

“I won’t.” Sofia cried, but now for a different reason. “And thank you so much.”

Lev’s living alchemy was graceful. He took after Papa in that regard, and now Sofia had this thing, a white rose, that would tell her if her brother lived, and he did.