Serpent and the Throne (Fedosian Wars #1)

15. A Boy’s Heart

fifteen

A Boy’s Heart

The count’s carriage had just left the estate when the driver halted, and Daniil Chartorisky bowed from his horse when the count flung open the door to scold the driver. His demeanor changed immediately.

“So sorry for the kerfuffle,” Daniil said. “But my father is asking why Count Illeivich is not staying for dinner.”

“It appeared you had other guests,” the count replied modestly.

“Oh, never mind them. They are just my friends. We’re racing at the Royal Cup tomorrow and our spirits are high. I apologize if we were being too rowdy.”

“Oh, no trouble at all.”

“Then, would you mind staying for dinner, Gavril Illeivich? My father is very intrigued by your take on the border crisis. Also, if I may be honest, Lev is not a great escort to be leaving your lovely daughters with.”

The count appeared pleased his opinion was valued and agreed wholeheartedly, while trying to be reserved, to stay for dinner, and the coach turned around. Sofia wasn’t thrilled to go back and look even older and poorer in front of Aleksei, but she said nothing, of course, and practiced her smile.

Returning to the Silver Palace, the count was escorted to the lord’s study where men discussed serious matters, while Zoya personally led Sofia up white marble stairs with black railings. Realizing it wasn’t just black paint but darksteel, Sofia ran her hand over it.

“A gift from Her Majesty,” Zoya said, throwing a smile over her shoulder.

“An expensive gift,” Sofia remarked.

“The poor mistake money for power,” Zoya said casually. “But those who have it, money I mean, should know better, don’t they? Yet your uncle has forgotten, I think.” They reached the top of the stairs and Sofia followed Zoya down a teal trimmed white and silver hallway.

“If you mean the archmage, he knows what power is. He has it,” countered Sofia. The floor was marble, and the wooden heels of their slippers echoed. “No matter how large an army silver buys, the commoners are… well, more common. Church is faith, and faith is people.”

“I wonder how many of these ‘commoners’ Lev can kill? My brother? How about Aleksei?” Zoya glanced back. “Surely, you don’t believe one is like the other. Besides, the poor just want to eat. They’d sell their faith for breadcrumbs. If you don’t know that, you don’t get out much, I suppose. The icons of the saints are gold while your common peasant will not survive another winter should the harvest fail this fall.”

“Did you hear your father say so?” Sofia asked.

“Ah, yes, why should I have a thought of my own?” Zoya stopped, twirled to face Sofia, and sneered. “Aleksei asked my brother to bring you back. I’m sure he’s told you that we owe him a favor. But let’s get one thing straight. Aleksei’s attention is fleeting, and if you think a few silver coins can purchase you his affection, you are mistaken. There were a hundred others before you, and there will be many more after you.”

“I don’t pay him,” Sofia said.

“Of course not. The Illeivich are dirt poor. Married to a fucken peasant, you are a charity case. He does that once in a while. Don’t think too much of it.” Her hair whipped as she spun. “If you’d follow me, Lady Sofia.”

Sofia wasn’t upset. The girl liked Aleksei, and someone so rich, young, and pretty, couldn’t understand why she was losing to a ‘dirt poor’ crone. But as Zoya herself just said, you couldn’t purchase affection, not with all the silver in Fedosia.

Zoya pushed open an oak door and went in, the laughter and the smell of opium flooding into the hallway. Sofia entered after her, the door closing behind, and she saw the children of Boyar Duma gathered in the room. She’d seen them all at the royal ball and recognized them by face, name, and house.

Bogdan from House Menshikov was a large man with a pale face and dark hair. Their lands were to the east and before the queen laid train tracks across Fedosia, the travel from the east to the west would have taken six months in good weather. Now the journey was shortened to days, Sofia heard, though she was yet to see a train, never mind ride it. The Menshikov alchemy had perfected black powder, an incendiary substance used in cannons, castle siege weapons, and for laying train tracks through mountains, as she understood it.

Vasily from House Apraksin was Lev’s friend. Sofia remembered the boy would visit White Palace during the summer and stay for months. A man now, he hadn’t grown much in height and still looked like a scrawny boy. Their alchemy was fire, and they had the finest forges in the country, resulting in the best swords measured by the eye bulging prices. Lev’s saber was Apraksin steel and even Papa had found the price excessive—ounce for ounce, it was more costly than gold.

Semyon from House Skuratov, another friend of Lev’s, was a sunny blond man with a wide grin. Their alchemy was iron, and he sat on the floor with his back leaning against the settee Lev was on.

Erik of House Vietinghoff dressed in an emerald tunic, the color of their banner, was seated closest to the door. Their alchemy was copper and required in great quantities in the crafting of tools, shipbuilding, arts, cookware, and even construction, not to mention the throne’s copper coins. The Vietinghoffs did well for themselves, though they were not the queen’s treasurer. That was the Chartorisky, of course, and Zoya crossed the floor to take the sunspot of the room.

The third woman in the room was Elyena Durnov, a fiery redhead and Zoya’s friend. The Durnov specialized in the animation of objects, mainly war machines, but Sofia had heard they operated the trains as well. She’d never seen a war machine, but she’d seen a Durnov doll before. It was supposed to dance on its own, but she couldn’t get the alchemy to work.

The most prominent house of the Boyar Duma was the Red Shield, and Aleksei shot Sofia a look when she entered. Her heart thumped. He wore brown leather riding boots with steel tipped toes which caught the evening light streaming through the half drawn windows. Seated on a grey and silver settee across from Zoya, he had his legs crossed.

“Soful, what are you doing here?” Lev asked, his blue eyes wide.

“You have a bad habit of questioning our guests, Guard,” Daniil said. He rose to offer his seat to Sofia, making her wonder what kind of favors the Chartorisky owed to Aleksei.

She declined and sat closer to the door, not brave enough to sit so close to Aleksei with all the eyes on her.

The room was modest in size, intimate, and wallpaper flaked in gold and silver depicted the various fairytales of Fedosia, the three brother knights, the many-headed dragon of the sea, the man who—Sofia forgot his name—hung his wives by the hair and collected their tears and turned them into pearls, the tale of the firebird, of course, and Ivan the fool… She studied them to avoid looking at Aleksei and flushing. Because he was always in sentinel black, she’d forgotten he was a highborn who looked fine in velvet and silk.

Pulyazin was the only great house missing from the room. Their alchemy had to do with water, she thought, and their lands were in the frozen northeast. That Lord Fedya Pulyazin was a friend of the archmage was all Sofia knew about that house.

Erik passed Sofia a glass of potion from the drink tray. Sofia sniffed it. It smelled of strawberries but she was suspicious. “What does it do?” she asked the smirking, drunk redhead.

“It makes you want to fuck,” Erik said.

“Watch your foul mouth, Vietinghoff,” Aleksei and Lev said almost at once.

Lev frowned at Aleksei, then called for Sofia to come sit beside him. She could do that. Lev scooted aside to give her room, and she felt unmeasurably better as her brother draped his arm around her shoulders.

Semyon turned, bowed from a sitting position, and kissed her hand with, “Lady Sofia.” He was a nice boy with a warm face.

The conversation casually returned to racing, horses, weapons, things boys did, and Sofia ignored Zoya scowling at her from the corner.

“So, how long are you here for, Lady Sofia?” Semyon tipped his head back to speak with her.

Sofia had been mindlessly staring at Elyena and Daniil argue and Elyena toss something at Daniil. In the corner of her eyes, Vasily was showing Aleksei a dagger, but she tried not to look that way.

“A few more days, I suppose.” She turned her attention to Semyon. “Are you racing tomorrow, Lord Semyon?”

“He’s too large. He’s going to come dead last,” Lev said.

“This boy likes food.” Semyon patted his gut. That boy wasn’t soft, though. He looked as though he wrestled oxen.

“Have you seen his horse?” Lev asked. “It’s enormous like him.”

“Thank you.” Semyon beamed.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Lev whispered, and nudged him with his foot.

“How long are you going to be in Krakova, Lord Semyon?” Sofia asked.

“I plan to spend the summer in the capital,” Semyon said. “Then Lev is coming to spend the winter with us.”

“What does the archmage say?” Sofia asked her brother.

“I haven’t told him.” Lev scratched his head. “He expects me to serve as an acolyte starting fall.” He sighed. “I don’t want to do that shit.”

“Have you told Papa?” Sofia asked.

“No.” Lev deflated further.

“Then you might not be leaving, Lev,” Sofia said.

“I’m abducting Lord Lev.” Semyon winked with both his eyes. A blink, Sofia would think but he did it often and it was just the way he ‘winked’.

“Lev?” Zoya’s voice chimed like a silver bell.

“What?” Lev turned.

“Daniil thinks we should host martial games. What do you think?” she asked.

“What do you mean ‘martial’? Just fencing with a plain sword?” Lev asked. “I already beat all of you. I want Aleksei, but he declined. So, no, I’d rather sit comfortably on this cushion.”

“What’s wrong, Aleksei? Afraid of Lev?” Bogdan asked.

“No.” Aleksei frowned. “But I’ve never fenced with a plain sword. I assume Lev is going to win. There is no point.”

“Oh, look at that. I won. And I didn’t even have to get up,” Lev said.

Aleksei gestured ‘hats off’ to Lev and turned to Vasily with whom he’d been speaking.

“Aleksei can’t fence?” Sofia whispered to Lev.

“His sword is not plain,” he explained. “It must be plain steel to qualify.” He flicked his saber. “The Shields can’t take a piss without their alchemy.”

“I said ‘martial’ and you assumed it was plain steel fencing,” said Daniil. He was blond like Zoya but much taller and a few years older.

“What do you mean, then?” Lev sneered. “If you include magic,” blowing into his hand, he held a flame on his palm, “we’re going to burn down your house. If you mean wrestling, Skuratov won. If you mean fisticuffs like drunk peasants quarreling over five coppers for their whore, no thank you, I like my face. If you mean jousting, our horses are too expensive for that shit. If you mean archery, we have to ask what kind of bow, and whatever it is, we’ll all suck at it. That weapon is for plain soldiers.”

“Sentinels use crossbows.” Zoya defended her brother.

“That shit isn’t plain, and if we’re using magic, Dragon’s Breath!” Lev flicked his wrists. He didn’t produce any fire but made everyone flinch.

As the evening wound down to night, Sofia had a pleasant time with her brother and his friend Semyon. Though the children of Boyar Duma sniped at each other with words, there was no hatred among them, Sofia realized, except for between Aleksei and Lev—and that was one-sided, mostly.

Before midnight, the count had sent a servant to fetch Sofia because the Illeivich were leaving, but Lev went to speak for her. ‘She’s staying for the fireflies, and we’ll be home later.’

The count agreed, of course, but Sofia had thought Lev was making up the fireflies. Then she learned that once a year in the spring, the Chartorisky estate had the grandest viewing of fireflies, illuminating bugs she’d been told, though it sounded made up, and it was tonight. Zoya had invited her friends to enjoy the spectacle, and as the lords and ladies as well as the hundred servants of the Silver Palace walked through the forest, Sofia got abducted by a certain sentinel parading as a young lord.

For a moment he frightened her by grabbing her from behind and dragging her with his hand over her mouth, but then it turned into one of the games they engaged in, her running away from him, and him catching her, then taking her.

“But I wanted to see the fireflies,” she complained afterward.

“You’ve never seen them?” he asked, as they lay among the dark trees, and he played with her hair. The moon was bright and gleamed through the branches.

“No,” she said.

“Come on, I’ll take you. They’re by the lake.”

He carried her on his back because she was wearing slippers, unsuitable footwear for trekking through shrubbery in the dark.

The chirping of the insects, the hooting of owls, something splashing in the water and the distant voices of people murmuring mixed, making the symphony of the night. Many had brought lanterns and Sofia made Aleksei laugh by mistaking them for the fireflies at first.

“I love you,” he said, a playful thing, as he pulled her by the neck and kissed her cheek, but it wasn’t far from the truth for her.

Sadly, unfortunately, tragically, she’d fallen for him. She couldn’t say it out loud, though. Because then it would be a confession. Then, it would be true. So as long as she kept it to herself, she could deny it. She had to because she was leaving tomorrow after the race and would never see him again.

The soil of the shore was damp. Aleksei laid his cloak on the ground so Sofia could sit, and he draped his arm around her as they waited for the fireflies. The breeze coming from the dark water was chilly and he pulled her closer when she shivered.

Footsteps and a floating lantern approached them, rimming the waterline as she was naming the constellations for Aleksei. The light came closer, revealing Lev and Semyon.

Sober blue eyes narrowed at Aleksei, as Lev said to Sofia, “Where were you? I looked for you.”

“She’s fine,” Aleksei answered for her and didn’t bother removing his hand from her.

“What are you doing, Aleksei? There are a hundred other women at court,” Lev said.

“Yes, but there’s only one of her,” was Aleksei’s answer.

“I know that. I have one sister,” Lev said. “Why can’t you keep your paws off her?”

“It’s fine, Lev,” Sofia said. “It’s fine.”

“He’s a whore and a liar, Soful.”

“When have I lied?” Aleksei asked. “Name one time. You can’t. Because I don’t.”

“What happens when Gavril Illeivich finds out, Soful?” Lev clicked his tongue. “Should the count divorce you, Uncle won’t let us take you back in. You’ll be on the street, Soful.”

“I’ll take care of her,” Aleksei said.

“With your whoring money?” Lev reached for his blade, which made Aleksei get up, and Semyon grabbed Lev.

“Drop it, Guard,” Semyon said. “She’s not a child.” He put Lev behind himself. “Sit the fuck down, sentinel, or we’re about to find out which steel is better.”

“Aleksei, please sit down,” Sofia whispered, and held onto his leg.

Semyon pulled Lev again, her brother angry and complaining to his friend. Aleksei sat down but he was upset. He didn’t like being called a whore. Who would?

“It’s all right.” Sofia took his hand, clasped hers around it, and kept it on her lap.

“It won’t always be like this,” he said after a moment of silence. “When Niko is tsar, I’ll have better things to give you.”

“I don’t want anything.” Sofia kissed his hand.

The fireflies, a whole swarm of them, appeared over the lake at once. It looked a like real dragon had breathed fire, then as they floated over the dark waters and hovered among the trees and the grass, Sofia felt as though she’d climbed the sky and was sitting among the stars.

Smiling, she turned to Aleksei. His eyes had caught the light of the stars, but they only illuminated how sad he was. A firefly buzzed by his face. He didn’t notice because he was in his mind, and unlike the shore, that was a dark place.

“Aleksei, come back to me.” She waited for him to look at her, then said, “Come on, let it go. It’s just words.”

“Yeah.” He fidgeted his knee. “Yeah.” He tried to smile but that made him look even sadder. “It’s all right, just give me a moment.”

She did. Sofia caught a light bug in her hand, and though she imagined this was how heaven looked, it was still a sorrowful place because she was leaving tomorrow and couldn’t tell that to the boy next to her. His heart was already broken.

“Good luck tomorrow, yeah?” she said, though she thought he’d lose.

Lev had been racing since he was a boy, and Rhytsar, Lev’s racehorse, cost more than what a sentinel would make in a lifetime, even with the occasional silver coins, and sometimes it was what it was—people who had more, got more.

“You are coming?” he asked.

“Of course.” She stroked his back. “Niko said Snowstorm was your father’s horse?”

“He’s mine,” said Aleksei. “As a foal, he got lost in the blizzard. Wolves got into the stables, and he’d run away. I found him in the woods and brought him back, and Father gave me the horse and let me name him. He said I earned it.” The memory breathed some light into his face. “He’s old now, nearly eight. But he’s the only racehorse I have.”

“How about the one Zoya gave you today?” she asked.

“Charger? He’s a warhorse.” Now he really brightened. “I can’t believe I got him back. I trained him myself and was kind of pissed when the queen took him.”

“What’s the other one you have?” Sofia asked. “The one you’re always riding.”

“Tempest. He’s a workhorse.” He liked talking about his horses.

“What’s the difference between a racehorse, a warhorse, and a workhorse?” she asked.

“Snowstorm is brave and fast. Charger is brazen to the point he’s obnoxious, and Tempest is the nicest of the lot. He’s well-behaved and doesn’t try to eat a lady’s sunhat.”

“Let me guess, Charger chews straw hats?” Sofia laughed.

“Hats, skirts, biscuits from the table, and he also steals sugar from your tea.”

“Brazen, obnoxious, likes skirts… sounds like his owner,” she teased.

She’d made Aleksei laugh and kissed him, trying to capture the moment. She wanted to remember him happy, not heartbroken.

“I love you.” He held her face. “You don’t have to respond. I’m not asking you for anything. I just want you to know. That’s all. I will kill for you. I will die for you. I love you, Sofia Guard.”