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I can’t seem to stop laughing.
Maybe it’s because he’s a horse man. Maybe it’s because he says he’s a long-lost czar. Maybe it’s because the other people in this car believe him. Or it could be that I was held by a lunatic who shoots fire from his fingers. Who would ever have thought my life would be anything like this?
But I think it’s the normal way he asked, as if it’s perfectly reasonable that he might not be sure what year it is.
“You have a lot to learn,” Grigoriy says, telling him the year. “Smartphones. Airplanes. The internet. But best of all, automobiles have really come a long way.”
“I can’t believe it’s been more than a hundred years,” he says. “That means that the humans are unlikely to believe I’m really Alexei Romanov.”
“That’s the first rational thing you’ve said,” I say. “The humans aren’t going to buy it, true or not.”
“Even Adriana’s having trouble,” Alexei says, “and she’s seen me shift.”
“Bingo,” I say. “I’m having trouble, and I saw it with my own eyeballs. But with the special effects out there now, with CGI, no one’s going to believe any of this.”
“I’m not sure,” Mirdza says. “With live streams, with fantasy shows, and with the way people have started to embrace weird things, I think they might be more likely to believe it today than ever before.”
I snort.
“Still, the adjustment’s going to be steep,” Grigoriy says.
“At least you have some good friends to help you,” I say.
“And you,” Alexei says.
That makes me laugh again. “Oh, trust me. I’m the least adjusted adult in this car. Or didn’t you notice that I’m the one on the run from not one, not even two, but three different people?”
“All bad men,” Alexei says. “But you won’t need to worry about that anymore.”
“Why?” I frown. “Why won’t I need to worry about them?”
Alexei looks at me like I’d look at, well, a horse that I’m particularly proud of. “Because now you have me.”
“I—I have you?”
He nods.
Staring at him like this, so close up, it’s hard not to be distracted by his strong jaw, covered with golden stubble, his dramatic blue eyes, his shining hair, and his sheer presence. He was a massively tall horse, but his human form’s almost more powerful. It makes sense, if what he’s saying is true. Someone who was trained to be the new czar of Russia would have been taught to stare people down from an early age.
But none of that excuses him acting like he owns me. “I don’t have you,” I say. “In fact, I have exactly one person—myself. That’s how it’ll always be, so maybe quit saying things that are crazier than the czar thing, or I’ll have to do something that neither of us will enjoy.”
“Your constant threats are endearing,” he says.
“She’s going to kill him,” Mirdza whispers.
Alexei’s head snaps her direction. “Why would she do that?”
“I thought I had it hard,” Grigoriy says with a knowing smile.
“I’m basically a cream puff compared to Adriana,” Mirdza says. “If he isn’t careful, she’ll gut him like a carp.”
“What are you guys talking about?” I glare at Mirdza. As my sister, she should be making this easier, not harder.
Mirdza glances at Kristiana in the front, but I can’t see her face, so I have no idea what their meaningful glance is about. Then Mirdza turns around slowly. “So, we think that Aleksandr woke up because Kristiana was in trouble—her dad’s gambling was pretty bad and some terrible men were after her. The farm was in jeopardy, too.”
“Woke up?”
“We were all cursed by Boris and Mikhail,” Grigoriy says.
