Something in her tone made Anastasia’s stomach begin to roll, a sinking feeling that went all the way down to her toes.
“How are they so sure this time?” Her voice was betraying her, but the innkeeper took no notice. “You know,” Anastasia forced a grin on her face, “Since she has always had such a penance for her priests.” She waved a hand in front of her face, trying to seem nonchalant.
Even Mikhail had stiffened, sensing something was wrong. It was a little too easy. The Tsarina had always had priests, acolytes, and conjurers around her. Why now? The innkeeper was nodding, rifling around in her pockets before she pulled out a scrap of a newspaper.
“It’s in all the papers!” She could barely contain her joy, laughing at the downfall of the Tsarina’s reputation. “She’s been writing love letters to the Priest Rasputin! They have published the letters and — Oh, my goodness. Are you alright, dear? You look quite sick.”
Mikhail looked over at Anastasia and saw her transform in front of his eyes. It was as though he was watching her walls fly back up, bricking over the expression on her face. Her hands began to tremble, and her face was pale.
“Anya,” he said harshly, harsher than he intended, as he tried to get her attention. He was losing her to her panic and fear. He could see it, and something animalistic in him wanted to claw her away from her anxiety’s grip.
“Anya,” he said again, “Look at me. Look at me right now. Look me in the eyes…”
“Shut up!”Anastasia screamed, her head whipping around towards Mikhail. The entire boarding house went quiet, everyone turning to look at the sound of her outburst. The innkeeper gasped quietly before taking one look at Mikhail’s garments and slowly backing away.
“Don’t you dare believe that!” He hissed, his brow furrowing as he stood without realizing it. His shoulders began to tighten, and Anastasia could feel the tension between them. “Not even for a second. How could you?Svo-lach!”
“Look at it!” Anastasia shrieked, her magic flaring and sending a small shockwave through the room.
Plates rattled and some cups fell as candles flickered out. People around them gasped and quickly dispersed, not wanting to be caught in magical crosshairs.
They cleared out remarkably quickly and left Anastasia and Mikhail squaring off against one another across the dinner table.
“There areletters,”Anastasia grabbed the newspaper where the innkeeper had dropped it in her quick departure. “Look at this! That’s my mother’s handwriting… She hired you! She… she was the one who… she brought you back…”
Anastasia’s anger was quickly dissipating again as her mind began to fracture, her power flickering off and on through her fingers like a lightbulb on its last legs.
A cold sensation crept up the back of her spine while her face flushed with heat, a pit beginning to spin in her stomach that made her want to be violently ill.
No… no… no… stupid… stupid… stupid… stupid girl… stupid… stupid… so stupid…
“Anastasia,” Mikhail’s voice was firm as he bent down on one knee in front of her, grabbing her hands. Anastasia didn’t even realize that she was speaking out loud. “Stop it. Stop it right now. It’s not true.”
“So stupid,” Anastasia ripped her hands from his grip and buried her face. “I’m sofucking stupid! I fell for this shit! How could I believe that anything — anyone — they sent wasn’t part of a plot!” Her whole body began to quake with sobs as her mind ran through everything Mikhail had ever said to her.
“No,” Mikhail grabbed Anastasia’s shoulders and turned her until she was facing him. “It’s a lie! I meant every word. This — us, it’s real, Anastasia, it’s real!”
“Did you get what you wanted?!” Anastasia shrieked in his face, pushing against his chest with all of her might. Her magic was still sparking like a forge, sending flickers of sparks all around them until it started to singe Mikhail’s robes.
“Burn me, Anya,” he said stoically, barely even flinching as the sparks began to spread across his chest. “Burn me alive if you have to!”
“Stop!” Anastasia screamed as loud as she could, a wretched and terrifying sound, and her voice cut out nearly halfway through. She was openly sobbing, her tears falling onto her hands and hissing when they hit her magic.
“Howdareyou! Did you get what you wanted? Did you get my fucking magic, you —“ Her screams cut her off, the feeling of her chest physically ready to heave in two, taking her ability to speak.
“It’s not a lie!” Mikhail’s whole body felt like a live wire, and his expression was frantic. His hands found Anastasia’s wrists as he tried to keep her from hurting herself. “I mean it… you can end me, set me onfireif you must… but don’t you ever believe for a second that you can’t trust me. I love you!!”
“S-stop,” Anastasia pulled her wrists from his hands and buried her face in it one more, the magic ebbing and flowing down her arms. “You’re so awful… socruelof you!”
Mikhail felt his anger rising as he stood up and took a step back from her. His shoulders were nearly shaking, and his hands ran through his hair. Every ounce of him was now ready for war, but he didn’t know whom to fight.
Sparks of Anastasia’s magic were flying in the air all around them, singeing the ends of paintings on the walls and flickering around the remnants of their dinner.
Mikhail barely even noticed the few embers that were still latched onto his clothes. He felt nothing as he stared at the woman he loved destroying herself with fear and the idea that her hard-earned trust had been misplaced. That her feeling of safety with him had been an illusion.
“Anya —“
Anastasia jumped up from her seat, the heat of shame turning to the ice of rejection in her veins. “Don’tfuckingcall me that,Rasputin.”
