Page 55 of Hooked On Victor
“Peace,” he said harshly. “Silence. Safety.”
Nikolai shook his head once.
“No,” he said softly. “Erasure. Denial. Do you think burning the past will protect the future? All it does is leave it in the hands of people with no right to tell it.”
Victor’s head snapped up. His eyes burned, voice sharpening like a blade.
“The Romanovs had power. They abused it. Letting go of that is the only way we don’t repeat it.”
Nikolai didn’t flinch.
He stepped forward, shadows dancing over his face.
“And yet,” he said quietly, “you are the only one with the burden tonotrepeat it.”
Victor’s chest heaved.
His teeth ground together audibly in the hush.
“So I should carry this,” he growled, “so others don’t have to?”
Nikolai’s eyes softened at the edges, just slightly.
“You were born of sacrifice,” he said. “The Tsarina’s greatest one. The vault proves it—but this…”
He reached into his coat, pulling out an envelope sealed in cracked black wax.
He held it between two fingers, the wax catching the torchlight like obsidian.
“…this justifies it.”
Victor’s eyes narrowed, suspicious, but he didn’t move.
Nikolai broke the seal with a careful twist of his thumb. The sound of cracking wax was sharp, final.
He unfolded the parchment with the slow gravity of ritual.
At the top was a glyph: a serpent coiled around a cross.
He read first in Russian, voice dropping so low it seemed to echo.
“? ???? ?? ????. ?? ????????? ???????. ????? ?? ????? ??? ????. ??? ??? ????????? ???.”
His eyes lifted, glinting.
He translated:
“I saved her son. Her last hope. Let him live beyond the fire. This is my final gift.”
Victor blinked slowly.
The words seemed to hit him physically.
His knuckles whitened as they tightened around the edge of the altar.
Nikolai’s voice softened even further.
“Rasputin’s final act wasn’t to curse the bloodline,” he said. “It was to preserve it. He hid Tatiana’s son before the massacre. He gave the Romanovs a chance to start again. Not as rulers. Aswitnesses.”
