Page 5 of Tiger's Tale
Taking the training had been Verusha’s idea. His heart had stirred with excitement to learn that she’d wanted him proficient in a specialty that would make him an even more valuable commodity on the battlefield, and as a bonus, it also gave him an excuse to attend to her constantly.
Though they were separate during his lessons, he consoled himself thinking of how much a future Guard leader would rely on a battlefield surgeon. He might even be called upon to save her life someday.
Considering it briefly, Verusha shook her head. “Thank you, Nik, but no. I’ll have my nurse do the wrap. It won’t likely be as tight as yours, and she’ll probably tell Mother, but it would be better if I wasn’t found in a compromising position, no matter the excuse.”
“You’re right, of course, Tsarevna,” Nikolai immediately replied. “You know I would never wish to harm either you or your reputation.”
“Relax, Nik,” Veru said with a sincere smile, a special one she used only with those she truly cared for. “I know you’ve always had my best interests in mind. Now, quickly, before we get to the palace, tell me what else you saw. And don’t pull any punches. This is important. I need to beat my sister. I know you notice everything.”
“I do,” Nikolai replied quietly. It wasn’t true, of course. Nik didn’t notice everything, but he liked her thinking he did. He only seemed to know everything because he watched the tsarevna Verusha with near obsessive fixation. He’d been in love with her since the moment he’d met her.
It had been his first day on the practice field when he’d been pitted against her. He’d had no idea he was sparring with one of the famed tsarevnas. An orphan, Nik had joined the Guard as soon as he was eligible at age fourteen. Back then, she’d been only twelve, but she was already strong despite her diminutive size. He’d thought it an insult to be pitted against the smallest trainee in the Guard, but Veru had taken no time at all to knock his skinny self to the ground not once but ten times.
The final time, she offered a gloved hand and removed her helmet. The shock at realizing he’d been bested by a girl—and a tiny one at that—wore off quickly when she smiled and introduced herself. “Sorry about that, Nikolai,” she said. “I’m Tsarevna Veru. I hope there aren’t any hard feelings. The other recruits all knew to look out for me and would have gone easy on me. You didn’t. I appreciate that.”
Nik stuttered a lame response. “Right... no problem. You beat me soundly. I can promise I didn’t hold back at all.”
She’d then helped him to his feet and dusted off his armor for him. “And he’s humble too. I like you, Nik. Stick around. We’ll meet again.”
As she headed back to the barracks so the next pair of soldiers could enter the practice field, Nik thought,I certainly hope so.
It had been a good thing that he was so obsessive in watching her because Nikolai quickly realized the young tsarevna Verusha Irena Vasilia Stepanov wasn’t kidding when she said the other soldiers held back. At first he assumed it was due to her royal status or to her diminutive size. He knew it wasn’t because of her gender. There were many other female soldiers in the ranks, and she did fight against some of them with success.
But the more he watched the rapidly blossoming tsarevna, the more he realized the true issue at hand. Verusha wasn’t becoming merely pretty; she was truly breathtaking. Even when her hair was damp with sweat, and the dust from the sparring field coated her skin, there was no denying her beauty. Male or female, in love with her or not, which Nik suspected most of them were, not a soldier in the Guard had a wish to damage a royal commodity so precious and valuable.
The one who scarred that beautiful face or disfigured her lush form would be remembered throughout the empire as the most dastardly, most careless, most reckless, most unpatriotic creature who ever walked the earth, and surely he or she would find no resting place or kind soul to console them for such a mistake. Over time, the only one who truly fought Verusha in the way she craved was her sister.
Not even Nik could bring himself to accidentally mar her lovely skin despite his willingness to do absolutely anything to please her. But when he began holding back in sparring, he saw how his actions made her special smile disappear, and he decided then he’d simply throw the match in every competition from that point onward.
That way she wouldn’t feel as if he was treating her any differently. When she realized just how truly terrible a fighter he was, she took pity on him, began giving him pointers, and her special smile came back.
It became a careful dance for him. He had to slowly improve in the areas she tutored while secretly training on his own so that he could become so skilled with weapons that he would never ever risk an accidental nick or scratch when she taught him. He felt the most fear when she fought her sister, and his fellow soldiers felt as he did, at least on some level.
When the time came for the culling, a year after his training had begun, he despaired at the idea of being cast aside. He knew the others thought him barely competent enough to keep around. With Verusha’s support, he was allowed to remain a Guard member after those deemed unqualified were cut loose and sent home.
Though many teased him, calling him the tsarevna’s pet or prize pig, he smiled each time he heard such comments and simply raised his glass with a wink or replied, “I’ll take it!” with such enthusiasm it always garnered a laugh. He knew it implied something more to their relationship, but he found he didn’t mind it so much and liked to imagine she wouldn’t mind it either if she knew he was being mocked for their friendship.
Over the next few years, Nik had become someone Verusha relied upon heavily. She’d grown to rely on him as a sparring companion, then as a friend and confidant. Secretly, Nik hoped for more. He knew it was highly likely she’d be married off to a royal good-for-nothing someday. That she would inherit the throne. It was best for diplomacy and the empire, he knew. And Nikolai considered himself as loyal to the empire as the next. It was the reason he’d joined the Guard.
Well,thatand guaranteed meals.
But even so, maybe someday, somehow, the tsarevna might come to love him back. Such a thing was possible. Love wasn’t exclusive to royals. Marriage might be, but not love. Perhaps they might find it together. At least for a while. He’d try to tell himself it would be enough. But if she ascended to the throne, her marriage date would be pushed forward all the quicker. Even if Veru arranged for him to stay at the palace, the likelihood of his continued presence in her life was slim to none.
It was more probable he’d be shipped off with the Guard on their next venture. Veru would soon forget all about him, begin popping out royal progeny, and he’d be an old friend who stopped by for a visit every once in a while, or, even worse, a headstone in the military cemetery who might—and that was if he was very lucky—get a yearly visit and flower from the royal gardens.
His best option would be to get Stacia to take over as tsarina. Then Veru could be head of the Guard, and he could insert himself as her right hand.
When they parted at the secret door to the palace, she squeezed his upper arm and gave him a tired smile. He encouraged her to rest, and her small shoulders relaxed. It was some consolation to know it was him she listened to and that he was her closest advisor and confidant. As the door closed behind her, he frowned, his jaw set. Had her stance changed just as she entered the house? It looked like she might have a slight limp or perhaps a broken toe. She wouldn’t hide such a thing from him, would she? If so, why?
As he turned, heading for the royal armory, he made a mental note to watch her walk more carefully the next day. Perhaps he’d even insist on looking at her feet himself. He didn’t like the idea that she’d hide something from him.The tsarevna should know by now that I can be trusted with anything. Yes. I’ll simply have to insist. It won’t do to have her feet compromised.
Nik rehashed the fight, wondering if there was something he’d missed that might have damaged his precious tsarevna. His hands clenched into fists. It was that awkward Stacia’s fault. If she would just be more careful with her sister. It wasn’t that Nik particularly disliked Stacia; it was simply that Stacia didn’t treat her sister with the respect, care, and admiration she deserved.
In a perfect world, Stacia would rule, and Verusha would become captain of the Guard, taking Nik as her right-hand officer. They’d end up sharing more than just a hot mug of sbiten on cold, dark evenings and, eventually, she’d realize she couldn’t live without him in her life.
If Tsarevna Stacia would just accept her calling in life, he’d be happy to bend a knee and place a hand on his chest, pledging his loyalty and support. True, her height and abrupt manner with men made her the more difficult sister to match. But Stacia wasn’t unsightly—besides, when did that ever stop a man wanting power? Stacia was...regal. That was the word.
Stacia took after her father. She was too tall. Too proud. Too imposing. Too... unbending. And what man wanted an unbending, unsmiling, cold woman for a wife? Regardless, Nik was certain a match could be made somehow. There were many interested in furthering status and linking their lands and countries to the empire. Someone would come forward. Though that someone would have to be a special man indeed if he could learn to tolerate Tsarevna Stacia.
