Where The Spirit Meets The Bone

Three: Alina Starkov

Three

Alina Starkov

Alina hated balls. They were always filled with people, half of whom mistook her for a servant. The other half ignored her completely. Her father was off talking to someone while she had managed to hide off in a corner. She had packed a sketchbook in her bag and was sitting on a chair she had managed to find drawing. "Now, this is a horrible sight," said a familiar voice, "the prettiest girl in the room, and she's drawing people dancing instead of dancing herself. However, shall we remedy this?"

Alina looked up and saw Prince Nikolai, smiling wide, showing all his teeth like the devious fox that he was. "Nikki," she said, calling him by the nickname she'd given him at school.

"Honestly Starkov, there's a party going on and you're over here by yourself. What's wrong with you?" he demanded.

"I got dragged here," she told him irritably, "all because you decided to grace us with your presence this summer. What happened with the Islands?"

"Change of plans," he said, "there was something far, far more important that needed my attention at home. Besides, with the bombings that happened, it was considered a security threat for me to go there even if it was only for vacation."

She frowned. "Good thinking. I don't suppose the Islanders would take too kindly to the Prince from the enemy state staying at their grand hotels after an international incident."

"Not at all," said Nikolai.

He held out hand. "Put the sketch book down and come dance. Your Prince commands it."

"Nikki----"

"Come on. Humor me."

"I don't like your humor."

"Too bad, I think I'm a comedian." He plucked the sketch book from her hands, tossing it to the side, then dragged her onto the dance floor.

They swayed and twirled to the music. Alina might have been imagining things, but she could have sworn that the room seemed to slow as if everyone were staring at them. Please don't propose, please don't propose, please don't propose, she chanted silently to herself.

"Alina," he said, as he pressed her up against his chest, "do you think I could speak to you? Alone tonight?"

She took a breath. Who was she to deny a Prince? No one. The bastard daughter of a Duke. If she said no, it would be an insult. "What about?"

Nikolai whispered, "It's a surprise. A wonderful surprise, I believe."

She forced a smile. "Your wish is my command, Nikki."

He grinned and kissed her on the cheek. The song came to an end. "I'll meet you out----"

A shadow fell over them. "Miss Starkov," a deep, older gentleman's voice asked, "may I have this dance?"

Nikolai stiffened. It was the first time Alina had ever seen her friend look scared. "Lord Morozova," Nikolai said, "what a surprise. I didn't think that you would be attending tonight."

"Well, I could hardly stay away for such a special occasion as your return, my dear Prince," said Lord Morozova.

Alina took in the older gentleman before her. He was maybe in his late twenties, a little over six foot, slightly taller than Nikolai. Enough that it made him have to stare into Lord Morozova's eyes as if the two were in the middle of a silent challenge. This time, it definitely wasn't Alina's imagination.

The music had stopped. The whole of the ball room was staring at them. Every, single courtier, including her father who looked like he was seething. Alina wondered how many times he had plotted Lord Morozova's death within the past few seconds. Had it been seconds? Or minutes? She didn't know.

Time seemed to have stood still.

Prince Nikolai, to her surprise, bowed deeply to Lord Morozova. "Well, I am pleased that you were able to grace us with your presence. I am sure Miss Starkov would be delighted to give you a dance, wouldn't you Alina?"

Lord Morozova raised an eyebrow. "Miss?" he said. "Not Lady?"

Nikolai, who was still gripping her waist tightly to his side, shot him a sharp look with his blue eyes. "Miss Alina is a friend from school, her father is a Lord, and she is here as my guest."

"Oh," said Lord Morozova, "I didn't mean to imply anything improper."

"Of course," said Nikolai curtly.

Nikolai glanced at Alina. "Give the next dance to Lord Morozova, Alina. I will be waiting for you in the garden when you finish."

"But Nikki I----" Alina tried to object, but before she could, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

"It's alright," Nikolai said, "a little harmless court politics. Enjoy the dance, then come find me. But don't enjoy the dance more than you enjoyed dancing with me."

Lord Morozova was watching her face the entire time. Alina's cheeks heated up, turning bright red. She could only manage a nod, and then Nikolai handed her off to him before disappearing in the crowd.

Lord Morozova took her by the hand. "Shall we?"

Wordlessly, she nodded, and allowed the older lord to lead her to the center of the dance floor. As if he had given them some secret signal, the orchestra struck up again, and once more the dancers were dancing as if nothing had happened.

Alina wasn't sure what had just happened. But she was certain that she had just been brought into the middle of a war. And that Lord Morozova had issued the first challenge. And it was somehow up to her to respond to the second.

He gripped her tightly, his hand inching down the small of her back to her waist as they waltzed. Her other hand was gripped in his, as if he were holding onto it for dear life. "I've never seen you at a ball before."

"I'm usually at boarding school," Alina confessed, "I graduated this summer."

"And you met the Prince there?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, "we shared a few classes, and we did a play together."

"Ah," he said, "and you were what? Sweethearts?"

She narrowed her gaze. "I don't see how that's any of your concern, Lord Morozova."

"If someone seeks to hurt my Prince, who I serve loyally, then it is my concern," he said, "I have seen what a broken heart can do to some. It is a terrible thing. I should hate to think that my Prince's affection was misplaced. Is it, Miss Starkov?"

Without thinking, Alina reached up, and slapped the Lord across his face. It echoed so hard that it caused the entire ballroom to stop. As the echo faded to nothing, Lord Morozova smiled cruelly. A pit filled Alina's stomach.

She wasn't certain what had happened. But she was certain that the bastard had planned it.