Where The Spirit Meets The Bone

Seven: Alina Starkov

Seven

Alina Starkov

Alina found herself in the house of her fiancé, alone, in the main entryway. She'd been ripped from her father's grasp. She had no idea where Mal was. She didn't even remember him coming inside. If he was there, he had made himself scarce during her fight with Aleksander and Alina certainly couldn't blame him. He was supposed to protect her. But he wasn't supposed to take part in domestic squabbles.

She took a moment to look around. The house was old. Perhaps pre-Lantsov era? She didn't know. The staircase was made of a rich, dark mahogany with a deep black carpet runner that had silver stars on it. On the walls were portraits of who Alina could only assume were past members of the Morozova family.

There was also a big grandfather clock in the corner whose ticking reminded her of how little freedom she had left. That Sunday, she would marry Aleksander. She would become Lady Morozova.

What then?

Would he keep her locked in a room somewhere until she gave birth to his heir? Would he make one of those accidents he talked about in reference to his family happen to her?

She had heard rumors of Morozova. Everyone had. He was one of the few Lords that had willingly went to battle. He could have been a General, or a Captain, but he preferred his royal title. He oversaw the militia, and if there was something to be done with the army, or the navy, or the air force, Morozova knew all about it.

There were some that said he'd assassinated Prince Vasily, worried about his gambling and incompetence. That he made it look like an accident too.

"Why are you standing there, gawking?"

Alina looked up, and she saw a stately older woman wearing a black dress with her grey hair pinned up. "Oh!" Alina exclaimed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Well....I'm Alina. I'm...um....er...."

The older woman shook her head. "You mustn't stammer like that, child. You are going to become Lady Morozova. Do you know the things that they call my son? The War Machine, The Great Dictator, The Soulless One. You cannot let them see you flinch or falter, girl. They'll eat you alive."

"Who is they?" Alina asked.

"Everyone who can get a bite in," she said. "Didn't my fool son greet you?"

Alina sighed. "He did. I choose not to accept the greeting."

The woman smiled. "Smart girl. One's company is always the best I find. I'm Baghra, Aleksander's mother."

Her eyes widened. "You're Morozova's mother?"

She smiled. "Were you expecting horns?"

Alina laughed a little, relaxing some for the first time since she stepped into the house. There was another woman there. Perhaps it wouldn't be so terrible. "Maybe," she said.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint my dear," she said, "but why don't you come with me? I've just the room for you."

Alina glanced over her shoulder, as if she thought that her fiancé would appear behind her. "Are you sure its wise?"

Baghra smiled. "It is still my house," she said, "at least until I die, or he has me declared senile. Whichever comes first. Come along girl. Let's get you a room."