His eyebrows went up slightly in surprise as if expecting Anastasia to be more agreeable without Mikhail standing behind her.
“Everyone in Russia is the Tsar’s children,” he tilted his head to the side, their chess match officially engaged.
“Then you must be fraught with worry,” Anastasia fought to keep her voice calm, “Knowing that all of your children are starving.”
“Sometimes the best thing a parent can do for a child is let them find their way.”
“Is that what you did to me?Let me find my way?” Anastasia snapped back too quickly, cursing herself as she struggled to remain cool-headed.
The Tsar held up both of his hands in mock surrender and leaned back against the overstuffed chair, picking at the velvet. “You did find your powers, didn’t you?”
“Idid. No one else. Certainly not because of anythingyoudid.” Her voice rose in pitch as she moved her hands behind her back to hide her golden magic beginning to flare.
“Let’s not fight,” the Tsar tutted. “I came here to speak to you cordially.”
“I believe we are far past cordial,moi Tsar.”
“We don’t have to be,” he shrugged, looking effortlessly put together in the stressful situation, making her blood pressure spike even higher.
Mikhail, dear God, if there was ever a time to read my thoughts, it’s now. Please come back!
Sweat was breaking out on Anastasia’s palms, and her magic was getting harder to tamper down as she stared down her father. Even just looking at him threatened to pull her back into that traumatic place in her mind, a place where she was caged and prodded, bound by her own gifts.
“I’m listening.”
The Tsar looked at his daughter, “You should wed Nikolai,” he held up a hand to keep Anastasia from interrupting, “It will not be permanent. We can have the marriage annulled once you… dispose of him.”
“Yes, your confidants made it very clear how they thought I should approach that situation.”
“And I saw you with my counselors when they suggested it. You can do the same to Ruzsky. Don’t you see?” He stood and took a few steps towards her, an enigmatic smile on his face. He was the trickiest of predators, ones who knew how to wield charm like a weapon.
What would I have done as a child to see a smile like that on his face?Anastasia’s thoughts were beginning to slip.
“It will be so easy,” the Tsar got closer, holding out an arm for her. “You can handle Ruzsky, and then everything will be simpler for us. The threats against our family will be dissipated, and we can focus on making things better.”
“Better for who?”
“For everyone. You don’t have to be in hiding. You can wed your darling Rasputin if you’d like. We’ll make you a commissioner for the people. A liaison. Whatever you’d like!”
Dangerous glimpses of hope danced in Anastasia’s vision, but the words coming out of her father’s mouth tasted like poison. She knew she could never trust him. Hearing him say it out loud caused her fragile heart to crack in her chest.
“We could be a family again,” he grinned, now only a few steps away from her. “Wouldn’t you like that? It’s been years since we had all of my children at one table.”
She couldn’t help it as tears sprung to her eyes. The loss of her siblings, one by one, hurt her the most over the years.
They all trusted their parents and slowly had given up trying to visit or write to her while she was exiled to her apartments under the same roof.
“I had a family,” Anastasia hissed as she took a step back. “I had Asya.” She felt her hands start to shake as gold sparks flickered off of them towards the floor. The Tsar noticed and tutted his tongue, shaking his head.
“Ah, yes, dear Asya… we don’t want any more accidents like that, do we?” Anastasia’s blood ran cold as her breath came in shaky gasps. “You can handle Ruzsky and then never use your magic again if it would help.”
“No…,” Anastasia shook her head. “No, I was a child. That wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault!” Panic began to descend on Anastasia, and rational conversation began slipping away from her like smoke.
The Tsar grew frustrated, seeing only weakness in his daughter. He had to get her to agree to this, and quickly, before that damnedpriestcame back.
“It was your fault!” The Tsar yelled, his booming voice echoing in her empty apartments. His thin grasp on control snapped. He had never had to coerce someone for more than a few moments before they fell to the will of the great Tsar.
“Stop it!” Anastasia shrieked, the tears now fully streaming down her face and her magic flicking across her fingers like a current. “Stop it!”
