“Anastasia,” his voice took on a disciplinary tone that made Anastasia blush, “Can you please stop interrupting me?” Anastasia nodded and beckoned for him to continue.
“Anyway,” Mikhail flipped a few of the sheets, “No, I wouldn’t say that you’re cursed. A curse is typically inflictedonsomeone throughout their life. You have hereditary gifts. By definition, it doesn’t fit a curse.”
“They did say it was in my father’s bloodline.”
Mikhail nodded, “Yes, it’s Romanov. I dug around in your family’s library. From what I found, it looks like your mother was chosen to wed your father specifically based on the lack of magic in her bloodline to help dilute his.”
“That worked well,” Anastasia rolled her eyes, “She’sobsessedwith it.”
Mikhail shrugged, “She’s obsessed with control. Your family is waning in popularity politically, but people remain highly loyal to the Orthodox Church. If they can keep enough mystics and clerics performingmiracles—“
“They stay in power simply due to the religious fervor,” Anastasia finished for him and Mikhail gave her a reprimanding look for cutting him off again. She blushed.
A woman could die satisfied being on the other end of a look like that.
“Yes, that’s essentially it. As you already know, your mother seems to have a talent for crackpots more than anyone with authentic magic. They’ve forced those people into hiding when they suppress gifts like yours. People already gossip about your tutors.”
“They do?”
“Yes. You aren’t the secret that your family thinks you are. People whisper, especially the devout ones, about the demon princes that have to mentor Anastasia. Why do you think they’re always killed?”
“I figured my mother was upset.”
Mikhail waved a hand dismissively, “Your mother doesn’t care. Your father does it to keep people at bay. It’s all a political show to make him look like a good, Orthodox man, executing the tutors that he discovers are using black magic.”
“That’s all of them…” Anastasia’s face paled as she realized how far her father was willing to go to have his cake and eat it, too.
It was a vicious cycle, hiring priests who practiced the dark arts only to have them executed publicly for their magic as a political move when they failed him.
She always knew that she was a pawn but the gravity of her situation seemed to slowly pour over her, freezing her blood like ice in her veins.
“How do you know all this?”
Mikhail shrugged, “Some I learned from my mother, but you’d be surprised how much monks gossip even when they’re hundreds of miles away. The books I found in the library bridged the gaps.”
“Do you think… Do you think he would kill me, too?” Anastasia looked up at Mikhail. He unsuccessfully attempted to squash down the protective feeling that rose in his chest.
“Anastasia,” his hand going to cover hers, “I don’t… I don’t know how we’re going to move forward. I don’t. I will promise you this — I will not let the Tsar hurt you.”
“You wouldn’t mind seeing me dead!” Anastasia removed her hand from his grip, her brow furrowing.
Mikhail let out a grunt and picked up the spell sheets again, “I already told you. I’m not going to promise anything about us working together.”
“Well, that won’t work for me!” Anastasia jumped to her feet and scoffed, “I’m just supposed to trust you blindly,respectyou, while you might be planning my demise. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No,” Mikhail kept rifling through the papers as if he was dealing with someone throwing a tantrum that he had no patience to sort through. “I think you’re sheltered, and you have no idea how to use your magic. Honestly, the biggest threat to you right now isyou.”
Anastasia sputtered, looking around the room in frustration before sinking back down in her seat. “I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to,” he shrugged. “I don’t like it, either. Is your tantrum over?” His voice was antagonistic as he looked up at her, chewing on his lip, shamelessly eyeing her flustered cheeks.
Anastasia settled in her chair, plastering a perfect smile on her face that Mikhail already knew to fear. “It is. You’ll have to forgive me. It sounds like I’m a little morepent upthan the present company.” She arched an eyebrow, and it was Mikhail’s turn to freeze.
Fuck. Did she hear me?
“The walls are thin,” Anastasia smirked, “Do remember that next time.”
He swallowed thickly and recovered swiftly, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a little moretightly wound. Judging by your magic — you have no idea how torelease.”He cocked a brow, making his tone unmissable.
