Anastasia (Good Tales for Bad Dreams)

Finale

Anna could tell from the shadowed, haunted, desperate look on his face that he knew exactly who she was referring to. She wrung her hands.

"Tell me," he whispered, his voice doing little to hide his yearning. For what exactly though, Anna didn't know. He had the look of a man who'd tasted something, and had it taken from him. But what was it? Had Rella seduced him? Had he caught her before she could finish the deed?

Anna leaned against the bars, bringing her face close to his.

"What I tell you now, I tell you for the sake of the truth. I do not know that you deserve it, but Rella is gone, and the truth of her needs to be known. If you already know, then let me speak it for my sake."

So she let him know it all. The Black House. Rella. The mission. As she told him, Anna could see the shock of it take the air from his lungs. His face contorted and he turned away to preserve his dignity in the dark. She could hear a quiet sob shudder its way out of him. It must have hurt him just to feel it, and even more so because his wound would stab him with every breath.

Anna waited quietly. She looked at the dust suspended in the light. They floated down from the ceiling between them, falling in darkness only briefly to be seen, before disappearing out of sight. For a single moment in the transition, they were visible as they truly were.

When he faced her again, his face was pale and wet.

"No," he said, "that can't be true. You're lying."

Anna shot him a cold, hard look. She would not be doubted. Not now. Not when she'd given him the only thing he'd asked for.

"I may be a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them," she said and at once marvelled at the way her voice sounded so sure of it.

The Prince leaned back and the light from the window caught the jewels on his tunic, making them glitter across her face. The way they shone made her think of the dress Dmitri and Vladimir had given her and the way its gold fabric had shimmered in the candlelight the first time she'd seen it. But the Prince's garb was no forgery. A rueful smile crossed her lips. Had she known then what she knew now, she might have been able to tell the difference.

"Do you like what you see?"

The cold tone in his voice snapped her back to the situation at hand. Anna felt flustered, as he'd caught her with her guard down. Now that she'd told him the truth, he could react any way at all. She had no idea what he would do, so she did what came by habit. She tilted her head and arched her back a little, to draw his gaze to her breasts. If he was so easily distracted, Anna figured she might as well use it.

"Do you?" she said, inserting an edge of playfulness into the performance.

The Prince bit his lip, his eyes devouring her.

So it's working after all. Disappointment stung her. A part of her had hoped that it wouldn't, that this one would see the truth of her and judge her by that, not fall for her pageantry.

"Yes," he said huskily, "after all, this is what you do, isn't it?"

Anna walked over to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "And I do it very, very well." The inevitable nature of what she knew was about to happen made her feel sick.

Even now, in this dungeon, I can be nothing more. Nothing else.

With practiced ease, Anna lowered herself to her knees, and pressed her mouth to his neck. She could feel his heartbeat fluttering against her lips.

"I can give you everything you've ever wanted," she said, knowing it would excite him, "make every fantasy come true."

The Prince stroked her hair, angling her face up to his. "Then kiss me the way she did."