Chapter 16 #2
She was incredibly pale, and her arms were cold. Mikhail could feel himself fussing over her, fretting like a mother, but he was unable to contain it. A small smile crept onto Anastasia’s face, and she shook her head playfully at Mikhail’s ministrations.
“I’m okay, you don’t need to—” she started laughing as his hands moved to her ribs and tickled her sides. “Oh, stop it!”
“I’ll do anything to hear you laugh,” Mikhail smiled, sitting up on the bed next to her. He kissed her forehead softly, running his fingers through her hair. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“It’s just the magic. I need a nap, then I’ll be good as new.”
Mikhail nodded, silence settling over them as if they were afraid to acknowledge what had just happened. Anastasia had started a war with her family. They’d seen undeniable proof of her magic.
The tsar knew what she could do now. She had nearly killed the doryantsvo with a flick of a wrist in front of him.
In those fragile moments when her magic was depleted, Mikhail wanted to fight anyone who looked at her wrong. He knew she was capable of everything the Romanovs feared and more.
Anastasia was made for her magic, and she didn’t need him to use it. When Mikhail was alone with Anastasia, when he could see the version of her no one else did, it made him feel whole. That scared him.
“We should move,” Mikhail kept looking over his shoulder at the door. He was waiting for the tsar to burst back in at any moment with the entire Russian cavalry behind him. “Can you do it?”
Anastasia’s eyes had already fluttered closed, but she blinked them back open. It took a great effort, and she was already half asleep. “Move?”
“I don’t think we’re safe here,” he said quietly, “In the palace.”
“We don’t have any choice,” Anastasia’s voice was fading as heavy exhaustion threatened to drag her under again. “If we leave, he’ll burn down the city trying to find us. People would die.”
“Do you really think he’s going to let us stay here?” Mikhail’s voice rose a little, making Anastasia’s eyes squeeze closed.
“Please, Mikhail. I have an awful headache,” Anastasia sighed, her head lolling on the pillow, “And yes. He wants his enemies under his nose. He would wait to find the most opportune time to strike against me. He’ll find a way to make it propaganda.
He will do nothing today, only lick his wounded ego. ”
“No,” Mikhail disagreed. He was uncomfortable, his anxiety suspending him in a fight or flight response.
The tsar’s threats were even more real to them now.
They had always been up against a dynasty, but when Anastasia’s abilities were a secret from the tsar, they held a few cards close to their chest. Now, that advantage was destroyed.
Something was wrong. Mikhail could feel it in his bones, though he couldn’t place what it was. There was no reason for them to stay in the palace after an argument like that.
The tsar would want to strike quickly. His reputation had been damaged, to Anastasia’s point, his ego had been bruised. The tsar was a man with every resource at his beck and call, and now, he had a daughter whose powerful magic he had seen.
“Trust me,” Mikhail pleaded. He had never pleaded like that before, his voice breaking as he begged her. Anastasia’s eyes flew open as she looked at him, going up on one elbow. Her shock at his tone woke her up.
They had made a few minor moves against the monarchy together. Showing up together at court was one. Rumors about them were indeed already spreading.
She had now saved his life twice, and no one had helped Anastasia find her magic the way he had. Still, he had left her, more than once, at pivotal times whenever they got closer to crossing a line.
He was only in her chambers right now because she had killed his mother, and then her mother had hired him to come back to the palace. It wasn’t exactly a recipe for lasting trust.
Anastasia stopped her doubtful thoughts in their tracks, her heart threatening to break in her chest. It wasn’t the exhaustion caused by her magic, but the terrible realization she truly did trust Mikhail.
Her world, despite being shattered and rebuilt a hundred times over her lifetime, crumbled around her at the realization.
It didn’t hurt like she thought it would.
“I do trust you,” the words came falling out of Anastasia’s mouth before she could stop them. “I think I trust you more than anyone else in this world, Mikhail.”
She continued, her eyes wide at her admission. She could feel her fingers shaking, but she refused to take it back, letting it hang in the air between them. Mikhail stared at her, and for a moment, she thought he might leave again. He was motionless, without a single betraying movement.
I swear to God, if he walks out of here one more time when I say something fucking vulnerable, my heart won’t be able to take it.
“I promise,” Mikhail’s voice was slow, like he was being cautious about his word choice, “I’ll never give you a reason not to. Never again.”
Anastasia nodded, heat flooding her cheeks as she fidgeted with the sheets. The moment felt intrusive, even though there was no one else to witness it. It was as though they were doing things all out of order.
Both were afraid to admit their feelings; admitting to trust was terrifying enough.
“Where should we go?”
“Back to the boarding house,” Mikhail grinned at the flush overtaking Anastasia’s face, most certainly not from exhaustion, “We can stay there for a night. Okay? Then we’ll figure out where to go.”
“We can’t let anyone get hurt, Mikhail, please.
If someone is caught harboring us, there’s no telling what the tsar will do to them.
” She gripped his forearm and squeezed it.
She was so tired, it was a feeble embrace, and it brought Mikhail’s attention back to the exhaustion written across her face.
“We won’t let anyone get caught,” he agreed, “I don’t want that to happen any more than you do. Just one night. You’ll be able to sleep in peace.”
“Are you sure?” Anastasia’s voice was tired. Mikhail could tell she was fading fast. He couldn’t ignore the protective instinct rising in his chest, and he knew she wasn’t safe here. She needed some time, at least one night, to get a solid night’s rest before their world imploded any further.
“Yes, Anya,” he gave her a gentle grin, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, “One night. Then we’ll come back here so they won’t send anyone after us. Give me one night, okay?”
“Mikhail,” Anastasia sighed and said his name like a prayer. The soft tone in her voice made him go nearly blind with his desire to get her to safety. She sat up with a groan and leaned all her weight against Mikhail.
“I have an awful feeling that I would give you every night of my life.”
???
Their typical door out of the palace was deserted, even though there was no mass to hide behind.
Mikhail thanked whatever god might be looking out for them and ushered Anastasia out towards the street, keeping his head on a swivel.
Their walk to the boarding house was slow-going.
Anastasia was breathing heavily with each step, her strength draining further.
Once they were a few streets away from the Winter Palace, Mikhail caved, leaning down and scooping her up into his arms. She protested and demanded that she was able to walk, but Mikhail couldn’t look at the exhausted expression on her face for another minute.
It only took a few more steps before her head was resting on his chest, fast asleep.
Luckily, the innkeeper saw them coming through her window, tossing open the door as soon as Mikhail climbed the front steps.
“Oh, darling, is she alright?” The woman’s voice was full of concern, her eyes darting over Anastasia’s sleeping body.
“Yes, only tired,” Mikhail insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been a long day. Would you mind terribly putting us up again?”
“The grand duchess is the only Romanov allowed here,” the innkeeper said proudly. She smiled and led them up to the same room.
“Shall I have some food sent up for you?”
“If it’s not too much trouble,” Mikhail said with an easy smile. Anastasia was still dozing against his chest, but he’d wake her up to feed her.
“Absolutely not! Not for Ms. Anastasia, it isn’t. I’ll send it shortly,” the innkeeper looked at Anastasia and made a quick exit, a fond, maternal smile etched on her face.
Mikhail walked over to the bed, gently lying Anastasia down. He tried to move as steadily as possible so as not to wake her, but she stirred as Mikhail pulled away.
“Are we here?” She asked groggily, her voice tired and eyes sleepy. It was one of the most beautiful things Mikhail had ever seen. She tried to sit up, but Mikhail stopped her.
“Da,” he sat down on the bed next to her, grabbing her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Go to sleep, Anya. The food will be ready shortly. You need your rest.”
Anastasia looked up at Mikhail with an expression he couldn’t decipher. She let out a small sigh and pushed herself up to a sitting position. The atmosphere was drastically different from the last time they were sitting on the bed at the boarding house; Mikhail couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
“I meant what I said,” Anastasia’s voice was quiet and steady.
“I don’t know if you feel the same way. Honestly, I would be surprised if you did.
I meant it. I trust you, Mikhail, and it’s a whole lot more than that.
I don’t even know what I feel. I haven’t felt anything in years, then you broke into my life and shattered it all—”
Mikhail flinched, and Anastasia shook her head rapidly before continuing.
“— in the best way. I lived an awful life. I don’t know how you could ever forgive me, but I couldn’t blame you for that. I thought you should know.”
“Know what?” Mikhail couldn’t help but push her, dying to hear the words come out of her mouth.
“I don’t know if I have the words for it, but it’s true. You asked me for just one night, and I’d give you all of them for the rest of my life.” Silence settled over the small room. Anastasia bit her lip, and her stomach started to turn.
It only took a heartbeat of silence, and Anastasia was convinced she was indeed the stupidest woman alive. Her thoughts turned wicked and vicious.
You dumb child! You’re Romanova! You might have a shared goal, but one man comes into your chambers, and you go head over heels for him…
“I’d give you every moment of my life, Anya.” Mikhail’s voice cut through her thoughts. She stared at him with a wide-eyed expression. “I don’t know what it means either. We don’t have to know. No one is asking us for answers right now.”
“You mean…,” Anastasia was afraid to ask the question, trailing off. She needed to know before the conversation went any further.
“I forgive you, Anya.”
“I trust you.”
Mikhail pulled Anastasia closer by the waist, the other cupping her cheek.
They crashed against one another in a passionate embrace, pouring everything they had been withholding from one another into the kiss.
It was all lips and teeth, too eager to have any finesse, but encompassing in a way Anastasia would never forget.
Anastasia leaned back, dragging Mikhail with her by his hair to the bed. A sudden knock on the door interrupted them, ruining the moment. Startled, they sprang apart as the door opened. The innkeeper stepped inside, carrying a massive tray of food.
“Dinner!”