Chapter 12
Anastasia smiled politely, not knowing how to respond. There was no love lost between her and her family. She was afraid of them. Whenever someone spoke about them, it was as though they were hiding somewhere around the corner and waiting.
Mikhail tightened his arm around her, and she couldn’t help herself as she leaned back into him. “It’s late, Anastasia,” he said quietly, nodding towards the door.
“Oh God,” her face paled as she looked up at him. “How long have we been here?”
“I’m not sure. Why?”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of church bells, causing the remaining blood to leave Anastasia’s face. Mikhail’s brow furrowed. He saw fear on her face and didn’t like what it did to him.
“The services ended,” Anastasia groaned, burying her head in her hands before she covered her expression of dismay with a grin to hide her concern from the neighbors. She moved away from Mikhail and waved for him to follow her into the corner.
“What is it?” Mikhail realized the issue as soon as the words were out of his mouth. They couldn’t sneak back into the palace. “Surely, there has to be another way?”
“No,” Anastasia shook her head. “I’ve been at this for fifteen years, Mikhail. I know every door of that palace, and the only time I can sneak in and out is during mass.”
“Well, we can’t stay here until next Sunday. We’re going to have to figure something else out.”
“Most people are afraid of being labeled as heretics,” Anastasia began, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “So, they’ll all go to services tomorrow morning, too.”
“Then that’s when we’ll slip back in.”
“And what’s your grand plan between now and then?” Anastasia looked at him with an exasperated look, trying to figure out why he wasn’t taking this as seriously as she was.
Anastasia’s voice had been rising in volume as she panicked, catching the attention of one of the onlookers.
“I’m sorry,” another woman took a few steps towards them, “I overheard. I have a boarding house down the road. It’s small, but you could stay there until tomorrow morning.”
“Perfect,” Mikhail smiled, clapping his hands together and looking at Anastasia. “Isn’t that a lovely offer, your grace?”
Anastasia stared up at him, and he watched her, seeing the anger rolling under her skin like a storm about to break. He knew he had to free her of this fear of living. She had so much more in her life than her family, if only she would stop being afraid of who she was.
If it worked out that they had more time outside the Winter Palace now, it would only be good for her. Once she got over being mad at him, of course.
“Yes,” Anastasia forced a grin and turned back to the innkeeper. “I would be touched to stay at your home.” The woman smiled and grabbed Anastasia, pulling her into a warm embrace.
Anastasia froze, her eyes going wide. Mikhail watched with a smirk on his face until he realized Anastasia was likely so unaccustomed to warmth and affection that she was overwhelmed by that simple gesture.
The innkeeper released her and encouraged them to spend the rest of the day with the neighbors, and she would have dinner ready for them at nightfall.
The pair thanked her again and stepped outside, heading up the street. The word of Anastasia’s gift had spread quickly, and people were waiting for her in the streets.
She smiled nervously at everyone, wringing her hands together at the sudden onslaught of attention. Mikhail kept his hand on her back in reassurance, afraid she had already used up too much of her energy.
Anastasia didn’t seem concerned, grabbing the hand of the nearest person and listening to their worries as she’d done a hundred times before.
Mikhail was struck by how gracefully she stepped into the role of a public servant and by how eager she was to help. She didn’t feel like a Romanov once she left the palace walls. She came alive as Mikhail had never seen.
Would her family even come to this street? Mikhail was unable to keep his eyes off her. Probably not. They’d destroy the whole block if they wanted to put in new stables.
He shook himself from his thoughts, following Anastasia down the street as she disappeared into another home.
The rest of the day proceeded like that, with the grand duchess following the crowd from house to house. She went into homes, filled pantries, and amplified jars of oil for gas lanterns.
Mikhail stood quietly beside her, watching as her eyes filled with warmth and her shell started to crack. She didn’t seem like the woman who was afraid of her own gifts anymore.
Anastasia walked into every home with an eagerness about her magic, ready to use it and ready to help.
She has no idea how powerful she is, Mikhail thought. Her family could never contain her if she set herself free.
Every time that he found himself thinking something about Anastasia, a cold sensation ran down the back of his spine, and thoughts of his mother crept into his mind.
She had killed the one woman who could have spent her whole life teaching her how to use her magic better than Mikhail ever could.
It was the reason he lost himself in her, even for a moment, and his pride left a sick taste in his mouth. He couldn’t seem to let go of his mother’s death, no matter how it happened.
Because as soon as you let that go, you’d be open to her. His mother’s voice seemed to be in his head again. How do you think that would go? Do you think she could love a man like you? You can barely look at each other for a few hours without fighting.
Mikhail was pulled from his thoughts by Anastasia’s voice. It cut through the noise of the crowd like a bell, clear and resonant, a honing beacon that his body reacted to even as his mind protested.
“Mikhail,” her voice was tired, and she walked away from where she had been fixing some broken tools. “Can we go now?” Her voice was sheepish, embarrassed.
Without thinking, Mikhail put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently.
“Are you alright?” He scanned her face and looked at her to confirm that she wasn’t injured.
“I’m tired,” her voice was quiet, and he noticed how withdrawn she looked. Of course, she was tired. He should have seen it a long time ago, damn him. “I don’t want to tell anyone no.”
“You’re no good to anyone if you hurt yourself and can’t help anyone.”
“I’m no good to anyone if I can’t—”
“Stop,” Mikhail’s voice was firm as he ducked down to her eye level. “Your worth isn’t defined by what you can do for others, either. You are not a weapon or a tool. You want to help. So, we will. We’ll help everyone. We can’t do it all today.”
Anastasia’s eyes widened as she listened to Mikhail, his impassioned words making her heart skip a beat. He had never talked to her that way before, and she had to bite her lip to fight the tension it created in her body.
She nodded, and Mikhail straightened up, smiling gently at the crowd. He excused them. Anastasia was too far gone, staring at his profile, to hear what he said. He put his hand on her back, gently directing her towards the boarding house.
It was a short journey, and the pair walked in silence. It wasn’t comfortable or tense. It simply was.
Anastasia walked a few steps behind him, letting Mikhail lead the way and escort them through the crowded city streets. She was tired. She had never used so much magic, but it had never come so effortlessly before.
She looked around as they walked towards the boarding house, seeing the crowds of people crowded into small lean-tos spreading out around them. It was all a result of her father, her family. She nearly vomited when her mind reeled with the wealth sitting in the palace, collecting dust.
She was lost in her thoughts when she ran into Mikhail, who had suddenly stopped, bumping into his back. He turned around with a slight smile on his face.
“Are you alright there, your grace?” He always used the nickname when he wanted to bring some of the fire back to her expression.
Anastasia rolled her eyes, and Mikhail nodded towards the front door they had stopped in front of.
“After you.”
The pair was quiet as they stepped inside the door, immediately greeted by the innkeeper’s warm face. She ushered them through a warm, plain but cozy sitting room and up a slanted set of steps.
Mikhail and the innkeeper chatted easily back and forth.
Anastasia watched on, studying his face.
Her heart swelled, and she tried not to get swept up in it.
Mikhail spoke to everyone as if they were the only person in the room.
The sharp line of his jaw and the soft look in his eyes melted some of Anastasia’s remaining resistance.
She tried to remind herself she couldn’t go falling for the first person to care about her, but she already had.
He was kind and attentive to the innkeeper, listening to the tales about her family, but she couldn’t place the other emotion on his face when his eyes flickered to hers.
“Here we are,” the innkeeper’s voice got a little louder as she pulled out of the conversation with Mikhail to address them both, “It’s small, hopefully, it will be comfortable. I’ve had some food brought up.”
“I’m sure it’s wonderful,” Mikhail grinned. “We need to leave before dawn anyway. Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Thank you,” the innkeeper had turned to Anastasia, grabbing her hands. “You have no idea what you did today. People are whispering. You bring hope.” She squeezed Anastasia’s fingers and handed Mikhail the key to the room, jogging off down the stairs, wiping tears from her eyes.
Anastasia stood there, paralyzed, not sure what to do with the praise. Mikhail studied her, noticing how uncomfortable she got when someone complimented her.
“Let’s go,” he leaned over and put his hand on her arm, nodding towards the door. “You need to eat to replenish the magic you used today.”
Anastasia nodded silently, following Mikhail as he unlocked the room and let them both inside. Anastasia stepped in front of him, studying the bedroom.