Chapter 20
XX.
After several more nights in the tsarina’s room and days kept at her feet unmuzzled and quiet, unhooded and obedient, she finally permitted me to have my arms unbound.
The leather bands and the ties that dangled from them remained to remind me of how tenuous my new allowance.
The guards objected to my unbound wrists, but when the tsarina called them cowards and threatened them with being put to death because I sat beside her unbound for days and she did not fear, they relented.
When the caretaker noticed my new freedom, he left me a marrow bone between meals. Although I left it beside the barely-touched slab of gray meat on the plate, I recognized the attempt at kindness. The princess too noticed my complete disinterest when she later came by, a basket at her side.
“Not in the mood for typical raptor feed or treats?” She set the basket down on the bench and approached the pavilion. “Did she completely spoil your appetite with fancy court fare?”
“So it is true. You truly do not have anything better to do than waste your time with me.”
“You should feel honored that I deign to give you any company at all.”
“Naturally, as you are so illustrious,” I added with a little bite to it, “princess.”
“You’re a brat!” She folded her arms over her chest. “But I suppose that is half the reason I like you.”
“And the other half?” I rose from the ground and folded my arms over my chest in imitation.
“I haven’t figured that out yet. But I will be sure to let you know if I have any epiphanies.”
“Please do.”
Her cape fluttered in the breeze. If I were able, I would have been bundled up in a fur-lined cloak and gloves. I supposed I was wearing a cloak and gloves since my birdness had been bound up in my attire, but I still shivered.
“Aren’t you cold?” I asked.
“It’s always cold in Ilyichia.”
“You should be wearing a heavier cloak.”
“You’re unbound today,” she said, ignoring my concern.
“Only my wrists.” I unfolded my arms and held my hands out, palms up. I moved one foot forward to show her that my ankles were still connected and those still attached to the bolt in the ground. “But my shoulders are grateful.”
“No other creature in the menagerie is kept as you are.”
“She knows I would escape.”
“Where would you go?”
It was a good question. I didn’t know. Where in the wide world could I go like this?
“Anywhere,” I said. “It’s only a matter of principle now.”
“I too would go anywhere.”
“More poetry today?” I asked, gesturing to the basket.
“Not quite.” She retrieved it and joined me under the shelter. She set the basket down and touched the chain that dangled from the collar. “Isn’t that annoying?”
“It is not the worst thing I have worn.”
“Could you bend down a bit?” When I leaned over, she gathered the chain and tied it in a cluster so that it didn’t swing. “Now, sit, and I’ll show you what I brought.”
I obeyed and sat with my tail feathers splayed behind me and my legs crossed in front.
She sat across from me, the basket between us, her skirts fanned out on the dirt and straw.
She opened one side of the basket and removed a book.
Then she began pulling out things that were most definitely not books.
She laid a thin floral blanket beside the basket upon which she set two lidded casserole dishes, two plates of the palace’s bone china, several of the palace linen napkins unfolded and tied in parcels, and cutlery.
“You never seem to eat much of what they give you out here,” the princess said, “so I’ve been paying attention to what you do eat.
” She began untying the napkins to reveal pastries, cheese wedges, cured meats, breads, and roast chicken.
She lifted the lids from the covered dishes.
“I also brought caviar and soup. I plan on talking to your caretaker to see if you can get food you will actually eat.” She met my eyes expectantly. “Well?”
“How did you manage all this?”
“I asked for a picnic lunch and just couldn’t make up my mind. So they gave me a bit of everything!”
I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t. But at a time when I thought I might never experience an ounce of thoughtfulness from anyone again, it was sorely tempting to do so.
“I don’t like the idea of you not eating because she doesn’t feel like feeding you.”
I took a deep breath and focused on the food. I almost said thank you, but that was not how we communicated. I didn’t want her to know how deeply this affected me.
“I bet you’re just fattening me up so you can sacrifice me to The Kind and Fair this winter,” I said when I finally could speak without my voice trembling.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted as she chose food for herself. “If you pester me enough, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
“Not if the tsarina sacrifices me first.”
“She could sacrifice any of us. We all live in fear of her.” The princess took a bite of the chicken, chewed, and then set it down with the arrival of another thought. “She ill-uses you.”
“That implies that I have a use at all, and I do not.”
“Oh, but you do — to keep me company! And that is a great honor, you know.”
“So you have said.”
“Does she know you’re intelligent?”
“No,” I lied. “She thinks me a stupid creature. It’s easier that way.”
“You are a conundrum,” the princess declared. “You speak like the most educated among us, and yet you stay silent. You’re patient to a fault at times, and then I come out to visit and you’re as contrary as can be.”
“No one wants to be around a creature that fails to amuse them.”
“You’re silent to be left alone?”
“I little enjoy most interactions.”
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” she asked in a whisper.
“Please don’t.”
“Why not me?”
“You’ve been kind to me.” I gestured to the spread before us. “And you’re not doing it to get something from me.”
“Except for our banter, which is intentionally mean-spirited, you’ve been pleasant to me too.”
“Why, it’s almost as if I have feelings.”
“Absurd,” she teased. “Surely not.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, I have no one. Who would I tell?”
“So any company, even the inferior company of something like me, will do?”
“If any company, even the subpar company of a spoiled lady, will do for you.”
“That sounds sufficient to me, princess.”
A scowl crossed her face as she glared at the pastries.
“What grave offense have the confections committed to earn such a condemning look?”
“What?” She blinked up at me and then smiled. “Oh, no. They’re fine. I was just thinking that, maybe instead of you using my title, you could use my name?”
“Is not using Alaina quite forward?”
Her eyes doubled in size. “You know who I am then.”
“I have known who you were for a while now, even when I could not see you.” The conversation had gone a little serious, so I added, “I could smell your cheap perfume three leagues away.”
“Oh, do hush.” She shoved a piece of chicken in my direction. “I don’t comment on your stench of wet grass and excrement.”
“You should have told me earlier, if that’s what I smell like.” I took the chicken from her. “I could have borrowed some of your perfume!”
She wadded up one of the empty napkins and tossed it at me.
“And what’s your name?” she asked.
I almost choked. I stared at her and froze from not having anything ready to give her. I hadn’t anticipated needing to create an identity for myself. Mikhail, even without the title of prince, seemed too damning, especially so close to my supposed execution.
She added, “If you have a name.”
I could always say I didn’t, but then I ran the risk of the princess renaming me, probably to something vapid, infantile, and insulting like Birdie.
“Michele,” I said at last, using the Varnasian alternative of Mikhail, the name Irena used for me exclusively.
“Mikalay,” Alaina repeated, deliberate in its pronunciation. “That doesn’t sound Ilyichian.”
“It’s not.”
“Did the tsarina name you?”
“No.”
“That explains it. Most of the tsarina’s menagerie have more traditional names. Even the elephant is named Ivan.”
“She has an elephant?”
“A gift from a visiting dignitary.”
“I’ve never seen an elephant,” I confessed. “They are the kind of animal you hear about but only half believe is real.”
“If I visited Ivan and told him that I frequently converse with a firebird, he might disbelieve in you too.”
That thought amused me.
“Are you smiling?” she asked.
“I don’t think so.” I didn’t think I could with a beak.
“You were definitely smiling,” she insisted. “Maybe not like others do, but I know your eyes now.”
I didn’t want her looking too closely at my eyes. They wept more than any bird’s should.
“You do have beautiful eyes,” she added.
“I bet you say that to all the birds.”
“I’ve never said it to anyone. Ever.”
And this time, it wasn’t foolish flattery from someone wanting something from me. She had nothing to gain because I had nothing to offer. And she never shied away from calling me ugly, so I could only suppose that she actually meant it.
“Then,” I said, taking a deep breath, “thank you, Alaina. For everything.”