Chapter 15
CHAPTER
On the morning of their first outing, Lord Karev sent Vaasa a gift.
It came in a large box, one the sentinels hauled into her rooms after Vaasa had finished training with Ozik.
When Vaasa opened it, she came upon a pile of deep navy blue velvet.
Carefully, she ran her fingers over the soft fabric before pulling it from the box.
It was a long-sleeved dress, so stark in its simplicity, the real decoration of the dress being the fabric itself.
With a narrower skirt that didn’t hoop out from her waist, she was silently grateful for a more utilitarian shape that didn’t feature such useless grandeur.
She lifted it from the box and inspected the dress, her heart racing.
It was stunning.
For a moment she paused, wondering if this was all more than she could handle.
Still, she slipped the dress over her chemise and adjusted how it hung on her body, admiring the fit.
There was a small scrape against her hip, and she felt along the dress, noticing a bump.
She slid the dress off again, turning it inside out to get a better look.
Her breath hitched.
There, sewn into the inside lining of the dress, was a leather tie.
She knew such a leather tie. Had run her fingers over it, had watched it in the heat of an Icrurian summer, had fought the temptation to pull it from Reid’s hair and run her fingers through the strands.
It looked a lot like Reid’s leather tie.
Vaasa’s hands started to shake. How had Lord Karev gotten this? Was it a threat? Was it possible the lord was more than what met the eye? She held the tie to her chest and breathed deeply. Every nerve she had went on high alert, and she did not calm by the time evening arrived.
Roman waited for her outside her door. She greeted him politely, his eyes lingering on where the dress clung to her. “A gift?” he asked.
Vaasa nodded.
As they walked through the fortress to the main entrance, Roman whispered, “It’s a clear night. After you’re done with him, I’ll take you.”
Vaasa almost stumbled to a stop. He was going to take her to see Amalie? “Tonight?”
“Tonight,” Roman confirmed.
Vaasa’s chest tightened ruthlessly. All she had to do was make it through the evening, and then she could see her closest friend. It gave her the courage to lift her chin and walk as if she were already an empress.
Lord Karev waited for her at exactly the time he’d promised.
Dressed in a black petticoat that was cropped at the top of his waistline in the front, the lord was once again the image of new wealth and status.
The iron buttons on his coat were a nod to Asteryan strength.
Despite what she wanted to think of him, his looks were enough to sway a room.
With his sharp jawline and thick brows, Lord Karev was far more handsome than he deserved to be.
He waited in the main courtyard next to a large, ornately decorated carriage that held his family’s seal.
A coronet sitting upon a spool of fabric, two stars above the scene.
It was drawn in honor of the Karev family’s humble beginning as fabric merchants.
Lord Karev smiled at her as Vaasa approached, dipping at the waist much like he had done the night prior.
This time, however, she wasn’t alone. Roman trailed her.
He had come out into the daylight, now taking the full responsibilities of her lead sentinel.
She wasn’t certain of his schedule, but he had been standing guard since the early afternoon.
Lord Karev flicked his eyes to Roman, looking the sentinel up and down. He seemed to measure the distance between the guard and Vaasa, brow furrowing. “And who is this?” he asked.
Roman dipped his head in feigned respect, though Vaasa noticed a tenseness in his posture. “Roman Katayev, the heiress’s lead sentinel, Sire.”
Lord Karev pursed his lips for a moment, then nodded sternly. Ever the polite Asteryan. “Well, thank you for escorting her to me. My guard will take over from here.”
Roman shook his head. “With all due respect, the heiress won’t leave the fortress without me or my men.”
“Hmm.” Lord Karev looked to Vaasa, and she nodded in resignation. In Roman’s defense, it was utterly foolish for Lord Karev to believe he would be allowed to take her from the fortress alone. “So be it. I would have brought another carriage had I known. I apologize.”
“No burden,” Roman said, and just as he did, a small group of men on horseback entered the courtyard.
With their group was a riderless horse that could only be for Roman.
The sentinel turned on his heel and walked to the men, quickly loading onto the horse and adjusting his royal blue cloak.
They all spoke with affability, a few of the men laughing.
“Where we’re going, they’ll have to wait outside,” Lord Karev told her quietly.
Vaasa looked up into his gray eyes apologetically. She wasn’t sure how to play their interactions now, given the leather tie. “I’ll order them to stand the perimeter.”
Lord Karev watched Roman carefully, not bothering much with attention on her. “Does he always follow you like a lost puppy?”
The truth was that this was the first time any of them had been in this position.
Yet, that wasn’t the safe answer to give, so Vaasa resorted to nodding, deciding it was best that Lord Karev not believe they could be alone.
Perhaps they truly couldn’t. This arrangement with Roman was uncharted territory. “Yes.”
“Hmm” was all he said.
Then he opened the door to his carriage, and though she thought it was akin to stepping right into a spider’s web, Vaasa gracefully took the step and crawled inside.
They arrived at the Emperor’s Theater, and Vaasa couldn’t help but stick her nose to the window to stare out at the massive building.
One of the jewels of Mekes, the theater had been built in her father’s honor when she was just a child.
It was one of the few places in the city that Vaasa had never looked upon with disgust—untainted, lively, innocent.
Most of the city was dark by the nature of the iron and granite used to build it, but this building had a stained glass window almost as large as the ones within the fortress that seemed to shed light upon every shadow of the exterior.
It was anything but plain; scenes from famous plays had been carved into the exterior walls, statues of legendary characters walking along the sloped roofs.
She’d made a habit of visiting the theater frequently before her parents had died.
If she closed her eyes, she could almost see her father walking up the beautiful granite steps.
Could see his royal blue cloak billowing out behind him and the calmness of his indigo eyes—a perfect match to hers and Dominik’s—as he looked over his shoulder and beckoned her to follow.
Father’s fucking favorite, Dominik’s voice slithered in her mind.
Vaasa looked down at the leather seats of Lord Karev’s carriage, stealing her gaze away from the crowded theater.
It was a strange thing to remember two conflicting sides of a person like the dual faces of a coin: one that made her ache with loss, one that made her glad of it.
In the absence of her family, she was no longer certain what was real and what was amplified by specific memories.
Did she miss them, or was she clinging to a story she could now tell herself because they were no longer there to prove her wrong?
Her heart twisted in on itself, each memory a thorn. She turned her body to face the lord, putting on her best surprised grin. “We’re seeing a show?”
Lord Karev leaned back in the seat, taking as much space as he pleased. “You could call it that.”
Her brow furrowed, but the carriage came to a stop.
Lord Karev quickly exited, then held his hand for Vaasa to follow.
Before she got the opportunity, the lord turned to Roman, who had dismounted from his horse and followed them up the snow-covered steps.
“Hold the perimeter, we’ll just be inside,” Lord Karev commanded.
Roman stared at him for a second, seemingly dumbfounded at having received a command from the lord, then turned his attention to her as if to ask What are my commands?
Vaasa could see it there in his eyes: a desire for her to undermine Lord Karev.
Yet she knew better—she couldn’t, not if she wanted to keep her and Roman’s history between them.
It would do irreparable damage if anyone else was to learn of the ways in which they’d known each other.
The line she walked with Lord Karev was precarious enough already. “The perimeter is fine,” she confirmed.
Roman’s jaw clenched for only a moment, but he didn’t challenge her.
Instead, he walked away quickly, like none of it mattered to him.
Like she didn’t matter to him. It was a fair, even appropriate, response.
Still, it stung somewhere deep within her chest. This was precisely what their world would have been—them only knowing each other intimately under the cover of night, having to pretend that they didn’t matter to each other when other people looked on.
It was momentarily infuriating, how seamlessly that same potential future had found her.
Vaasa followed Lord Karev up the rest of the steps and into the theater.
Yet the moment they entered, he veered left, away from the stunning chandelier and the three levels bustling with people.
They trailed around the main corridor until they came upon a servants’ hallway that had a guard standing in front of it, though once again, he was less at attention, less disciplined, than she remembered the city guard to be.
As they approached, the guard gawked at her presence—a gesture entirely out of character. Quickly, he sketched a bow.
Beside her, Lord Karev remained tense, keeping watch on the sentinel. He kept his posture closed, controlled.