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“Wonderfully,” Konstantin told him, his voice dry.
Of course they would hide it. Primes married for magic, and they liked the guarantee that their children would be as powerful as their parents. Without powers, Inna’s odds of marrying someone in her social circle were nil. She’d spend her life on the sidelines, pitied and feeling useless, while her relatives wielded power and influence.
Not only that, but her very existence put the future of her family in doubt. In the eyes of the magic elite, she was an indicator that something went terribly wrong with the genetics of House Dolgorukov. If her parents could produce a dud, so could her siblings. Instead of a sure bet, marrying into House Dolgorukov would suddenly become a gamble.
“But that’s not all there is, is it?” Alessandro said. “You like genealogy, Konstantin. Remind me, how are your family and House Dolgorukov connected?”
“Inna’s mother is my aunt,” the prince said in a flat voice.
“On which side?” Alessandro crooned.
“On my father’s,” Konstantin said.
Oh shit. Inna’s mother was the sister of the czar. Inna’s lack of powers didn’t just mar her House. It tainted the Imperial dynasty.
“At seventeen, the odds of her manifesting powers are basically nonexistent,” I thought out loud. “Sooner or later, she would have to get married, and the Imperial family would likely kill her to keep her lack of powers secret. That’s why her parents went to Arkan for the serum. They were desperate.”
“You think the worst of us,” Konstantin said. “Inna was going to have a quiet life away from the public eye.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No matter how quietly she lived, her genes would always be a threat. The dynasty must appear bulletproof. One carefully worded article during a time of crisis, and suddenly there is a fatal flaw in the bloodline of House Berezin. Killing her would be cleaner. A convenient accident during this quiet life, in some remote place—a wrecked car, an unfortunate fall from a horse, a drowning. Nobody can prove that she had no magic by examining her corpse.”
Konstantin leaned forward. “That’s the second time you surprised me since we’ve met, Ms. Baylor.”
Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.
I glanced at Alessandro. “What happened? Did Arkan’s serum kill her?”
“Not right away. She survived the exposure and got her magic.”
“What was she?”
Alessandro smiled without any humor. “Prime venenata. A very strong, very unstable venenata.”
Dear God, the serum had given her Runa’s talent. She could poison an entire city block in minutes.
“Nobody in House Dolgorukov knew how to handle a venenata,” Alessandro continued. “Especially since Inna had no training. They tried to find the right tutor. Meanwhile, Inna had to hide her powers and pretend that everything was fine. The Dowager Empress is fond of socials. Inna, one of her favorite grandchildren, was always invited. During the last Spring Social in March, Inna took offense to something Duchess Minkina said to her. Her powers spun out of control.”
Oh no.
“She killed three women on the spot, critically poisoned seven others, and would have killed everyone present if Konstantin’s mother hadn’t put a bullet into her niece’s brain two seconds after the first victim hit the ground.”
Yep, that was about the only way to stop a venenata. When they got going, you killed them, usually from a distance, or you died.
“The Dowager was grateful but most displeased,” Alessandro said. “We all know how much she enjoys her get-togethers.”
Konstantin’s face displayed all the emotion of a stone wall. “You seem remarkably well-informed, Sasha. I see the charming Italian orphan thing still works for you.”
He’d put an emphasis on the word orphan.
Alessandro’s eyes narrowed. This was about to get ugly.
“How is your mother?” Alessandro asked, his voice light. “From what I’ve heard, the murder of her niece was traumatic for her.”
“Quite well and fully recovered. It was regrettable but necessary. Her quick thinking and actions saved many lives. Unlike some mothers, she always puts the welfare of children, hers and others, before her own needs.”
Alessandro’s mother had done nothing to take care of him and his sisters or to protect him from the wrath of his grandfather when Alessandro tried to become the breadwinner. He had to pretend to be a rich Prime while his family secretly suffered in poverty, so he could marry a rich heiress. His entire adolescence was a giant marital advertisement, and his mother had encouraged him to put himself out there. It was a source of pain to him.
Alessandro smiled. “Aunt Zina was always very caring unless the matters of state dictated otherwise. It’s a rare mother who could murder her oldest son’s fiancée with her own hands. Poor Liudmilla. She never saw it coming.”
Ouch. Who the hell was Liudmilla, and how many women had Konstantin’s mother murdered? Was it a hobby of hers?
Konstantin leaned forward. His face changed somehow, his features sharpening, his jaw growing more square. His eyes lost their warm glow, turning uncaring and frightening. He stared at Alessandro with the unblinking focus of a predator sizing up his next meal.
