Rasputina and the Witch's Tsar

Chapter Seventeen

"Ursula?" Kaskil's voice drifts towards me, almost hopeful. How curious. Ursula's been taking care of him ever since he came to me, bruised and beaten. I figured it'd be a lesson in humility, since she was so disgusted by his Yakut heritage. A way to counteract her bigotry. But, perhaps, people change when they're together long enough. I wonder if Kaskil's taking a bit too kindly to the arrangement.

"No," I retort, "it's me, Kas!"

I slam the door behind me, not caring if those simpering fools in the hall saw me. Kas looks up from his quarters. Two small cots are pushed together to form a larger bed. He used to have to share, but ever since he became my favored servant, he's been upgraded. At least, that's what he told me. I fear it's because the other servants think him cursed.

The young man sleeps flat on his back, a damp rag placed over his neck, soaking through his unruly dark hair. He opens a single eye, groaning when he sees me. "You."

"Yes, me." I pace back and forth across the plainer floors, common stone and walls that are bare save for a few lines of prayer scrawled by hand and a crude sketch of human anatomy that's been halfway scrubbed out. I hit my ankle against a dresser while pacing, nearly knocking over a pitcher of water. I right it quickly. "Sorry."

"You're never at fault, milady." Kas groans as he struggles up on one elbow. I take him in as the blanket falls, grimacing all the while. Bruises pepper most of his skin, and his face is halfway unrecognizable.

"You look like you've been stung by a thousand-thousand hornets."

He raises a single eyebrow, enunciating his swollen eye. "And you look like a witch."

I pause, just to see if he'll flinch. He twitches slightly, masking it with a cough. I settle into a gentle smile. "Careful, Kas. You're lucky I favor you."

"But you aren't favored?" He nods to the slammed door. "You returned from the festivities early."

"No," I kick at a piece of wall, wishing the whole palace shook with my anger. "Duke Dumbass kicked me out of it."

"Duke...?"

"The tsarina's cousin, Duke Dmitri Pavlovich and her nephew-in-law, Prince Felix Yusupov. They hate me. I know it."

"But everyone hates you."

"This is different." I splay my hands open, seeing the lines. I wish I could interpret this easily, but my visions don't come when I want them to. That's the nature of the greatest magic. It comes when you don't whine for it. "They put a dark feather in my cup."

"It's a feather, not poison."

"Then they tore me away from talking to the tsar."

"Well, you make your intentions known..."

I whirl on Kaskil at that. "What's thatsupposed to mean?"

Kaskil winces, falling back down into the pillows. He bows as much as he's able, the movement awkward and pained. "There are those in the palace, those in power, who would see that you stayed far away from the royal family, Lady Rasputina. You were a peasant a year ago. You've climbed too quickly since then, even outside the realm of the church..."

"So, they're threatened by me."

"By what you can do," and here he drops again, not even attempting a bow as his next words come out in a whisper, "and what you might say."

"What if..." I drum my fingers against my thigh, reaching for a pitcher of water. The liquid trickles, cold, across my hand. I soak a clean rag to change Kaskil's wrappings, then tip more water past his lips. He drinks without question. "What if I were to say that there is a war, a Great War, and that Russia should not be in it?"

"They love you. Alexei loves you, therefore they love you." Kaskil turns to me, dark eyes flashing despite the fever and hurt. "They would listen to you without question."

"They fear my words. My deeds," I laugh at that as I smooth Kaskil's hair back, brushing it with a rough-hewn comb. "How then, am I different from any other woman?"

He pauses. "You have magic."

I go to the door, fighting a smile all the while. "We all do."