Page 11 of Tiger's Tale
She’d seen a pretty serving girl fall for a man once. He was handsome and had a way with words that made every woman he took notice of go weak in the knees. They were a good match, or so she’d thought. They married and had a son. He doted on her and appeared to be as smitten as his new bride. But after a few years, she became ill when they lost a second child.
A short time later, when riding together, she was thrown from a horse and broke her foot. It healed, but she developed a limp and never walked the same. The man’s affection waned, and he sought comfort elsewhere. Veru’s maid lost her joy and left her work. She wasn’t surprised to learn she’d passed away one winter from a common sickness—one she should have easily recovered from. Her husband had gone away. There was no one to care for her during her illness.
Her beauty was one of the reasons she preferred hiding behind a helmet. Veru could blend in with everyone else. She wanted to be seen and appreciated for her talents, her skills, and her personality. Not for her appearance. Her biggest fear was being matched with someone who loved what she looked like, only to despise her as she grew old and toss her aside the moment he was disaffected. She could not—would not—tolerate such a thing. But how did one guarantee love was true and lasting?
Placing the knife back into the hidden place in her custom-made palace dressing shoes, she satisfied herself instead with the large map of the empire she kept tucked in the back of her closet. If, by some miracle she feared was slipping further and further from her by the moment, shedid notbecome the tsarina but the high commander of the Royal Guard, as she wished, she had a carefully plotted campaign for expansion. To calm herself, she updated once again the territories she felt were open to diplomatic approaches versus those that would go to war to protect their borders. She only stopped when her tears over the loss of her mother threatened to blur the marked lines.
Meanwhile, Stacia met with her men. Their instructions were to seek out the most renowned, the most skilled healer in the country, and then whatever the cost, whatever trade was required, they were given permission to quickly secure the service and escort the healer back with as little fanfare and information as possible. In truth, even the guards were not told for whom they were obtaining help, though all of them could guess.
They departed within the hour.
Once Stacia sent the ten, she sent another fifty within the empire itself. Their task was to round up every doctor, every shaman, every herbalist, no matter how skilled or insignificant. Upon their immediate return, they would analyze the patient, prescribe treatment, and the tsarina had agreed to try it, no matter how strange. Now all they could do was wait for the first of Stacia’s men to return with help.
* * *
After an hour or two, her temper soothed, but unable to come up with anything new, Veru approached her sister, demanding an update, only to find that Stacia had exhausted all possibilities. It left nothing for Veru to do except worry, wallow, and wait. Worry she did. Wallow, she did for a while. But wait, she could not.
She had to think of something Stacia hadn’t. Otherwise, one of her sister’s methods would work in healing her mother, and Stacia would be known as the savior of the tsarina, leading the Guard in a victorious result, while she had effectively sat on her hands.
Once again, she returned to her rooms.
It took three long days before Veru called for Nikolai, but when she did, she summoned him to her chambers, something she had never ever done. The gesture almost soothed Nikolai’s ruffled nerves. Almost. He’d heard the alarmed whispers around the camp and watched in concern as the numbers of trusted Guardsmen dwindled to mere dozens. The doctor he trained with was beckoned to the palace and remained there, while Nikolai was told to stay and help any injured Guardsmen.
Ha!As if there were any injuries. No one could train under such conditions.
The camp surgeon was gone for too many hours, according to Nikolai’s thinking, and when he returned to his cot, late at night, his face white, his lips tight with concern, and even tighter with secrets he refused to share, no matter how cleverly Nikolai questioned him, it was all the young man could do not to rush to the palace and pound on the thick doors, demanding to see if his beloved tsarevna had taken ill. Nik tossed and turned, unable to sleep with worry.
The first night, he snuck out and climbed the old tree, the one that nearly touched her balcony. If he was lucky, within a year or so, the limb would be strong enough to hold his weight, allowing him access to her room. He’d been carefully watering and fertilizing the tree over the last few years and grooming the branches just so, to encourage the growth where he wanted it, and his vigilant nurturing was finally paying off.
Unfortunately, it was winter, and there were no leaves to hide his form. He’d have to go very carefully and slowly so the palace guard wouldn’t catch him, and even then he’d have to leave no indication of his footsteps. If it was discovered that he spied on the tsarevna, at the very least his tree might be cut down, and all his work over the years would be burned up in the course of a few hours due to recklessness—and that was only if he got away unseen.
If he was caught, he’d be punished, possibly even put to death, depending on how his actions were interpreted and how much Veru might be inclined to intervene on his behalf. Even if she did stick her neck out for him, there would be consequences for her. There was no sense in both of them being punished. But then again, Nik knew he likely wouldn’t get caught. Besides, he had to know if she was well. If she wasn’t... well, then a tree didn’t much matter, then, did it?
Nikolai went slow. Very slow, and fortune favored him. It wasn’t the first time, nor did he think it would be the last he’d have to use the gifts he’d come by so very dearly.
A storm blew in. He sighed in relief, though the cold was uncomfortable. He’d been saved by weather before, and he was glad it was helping him once again.
The stinging snow made it difficult for him to see, but it also meant that others hunkered down and weren’t paying much attention to him. He considered it a sign from the heavens that he was being watched over. Then the second sign came. His beloved was standing at the window. It soon became clear to him it was not her the doctor was worried over. She paced, her arms behind her back, her stride just as strong as ever.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Nikolai settled back against the trunk of the cold tree. He let the sight of her strong, curvy body, which was outlined in her nightdress from the lamplight behind her, warm him when she passed the window. In fact, the biting bits of slush that hit his hot skin melted at once, and his eyes burned like fiery coals in the night. He didn’t move until her light extinguished.
But then the next day passed, and she didn’t come to him, nor the next. Guardsmen had been summoned and left quickly, but everything was kept quiet. The doctor had also been summoned but wouldn’t tell him what was wrong, no matter how he tried to convince him to share the news. Nik suspected the worst. He didn’t understand. Had he done something to upset her? He became angry. If she was healthy, then why wasn’t she calling for him?
Then he became distressed. What if she really was the one who was ill? His worried mind killed his appetite and left him restless. Suppose she was calling for him, and he wasn’t with her?
Finally, she did. Nik calmed himself then, by repeating that he didn’t know what was happening. He’d hear her out. Show her again that she could trust him.
Then he was escorted to her chamber. Hope blossomed. Perhaps something had changed between them for the better.
Once there, Nikolai thrilled even more when she dismissed the guard, and the two of them were left alone. But his elation changed when he realized his beloved tsarevna was troubled in a way he’d never seen before. She paced the room again, like the caged beast he’d seen in the window. Her normally meticulously groomed appearance was unkempt.
There were dark circles under her eyes. Her soft, moist lips were cracked and bitten. And her lovely hair was tangled and unbrushed. She looked like... she looked much like her sister after battle, and the sight bothered Nik more than he could say.
“What has happened?” Nik asked hesitantly, fearing the worst. “Has...has your mother announced an engagement?”
“An engagement?” she barked a laugh, and it sounded ugly and strange to him.For just a moment, it reminded him of...
A deep tremor reverberated in his soul. Something was very, very wrong, but it wasn’t what he was thinking. He reached out and took hold of Veru’s arms, shaking her hard. Too hard. He needed to bring her back to herself. “Veru! Tell me. What is wrong?”
