Where The Spirit Meets The Bone

Ten: Aleksander Morozova

Ten

Aleksander Morozova

"You're a fool," was how Zoya greeted him when he walked into his office.

"Lovely to see you too, Zoya."

"He's going to kill you, you know that? Maybe not right away but he'll do it eventually, and it will be because of this girl. You took the crown Princes true love."

"They weren't even dating," he reminded her as he took a seat at his desk.

Zoya leaned up against it, towering over him, despite the fact that she was smaller than he was. "If they go after you, they will go after me because I work for you. I like my job, Morozova. It gives me the money and connections that I need to keep myself safe. I'm not going to hesitate to----"

"I've never asked for your protection, Nazyalensky," he said, "I've only asked that you do your job. I don't expect you to sacrifice yourself for me. I'm not a complete villain. I know what I did. It doesn't mean that you should suffer the consequences."

"Good," said Zoya, "because I am not losing my job over some slip of a girl."

Lord Morozova chuckled. "Jealous?"

Zoya bristled. "Hardly. I just don't think she belongs here. She's not royal."

"She was born the daughter of the duke," said Lord Morozova, "she might be a bastard, but she still has royal blood."

Zoya snorted. "That doesn't mean that she's worthy of my respect or time. Are you really going through with this? Surely you could convince Nikolai to marry someone else, and let the girl live in her own mediocrity?"

"The King has been pressuring me to take a wife anyway. If it's not her, it will be someone else. At least this way I get to choose whom I'm annoyed by the rest of my life. Besides, she seems like she'll be easy to make....agreeable."

Zoya raised an eyebrow. "Agreeable? She's probably a virgin."

"Exactly," said Lord Morozova, "I can teach her my tastes, make them hers."

She laughed. "Perhaps it isn't Alina that's the bastard. Perhaps it's you."

"Perhaps, but I'm doing what's best for Ravka. Vasily is dead----"

"Convenient, that," said Zoya, "with that accident."

"I don't know to what you are referring. But that leaves only Nikolai as the heir. People already question his parentage. We can't have people questioning the parentage of both our rulers. It isn't a good look."

"For the good of the country," said Zoya.

"Yes," Lord Morozova said, "for the good of the country. Can you do me a favor?"

"If it's babysitting, I'm out," said Zoya.

"It's not babysitting. I want you to make dinner arrangements for me and Alina tonight. A fancy restaurant, some place with a view."

"Are you certain that's a good idea?" Zoya asked. "The wedding is happening this weekend. People are going to be clamoring to see you. That means the press. Paparazzi. People who will take pictures of you, constantly. You'll be on the front page."

"Exactly," he said.

"Exactly?" Zoya said.

"I'm going to use that girl to the best of my advantage. Being a Lord means that I'm in line for the throne."

"But there's at least ten people ahead of you," she reminded him, "how exactly do you plan on getting rid of them?"

"With an heir," he said, "that I will declare the King and Queen as godfather and godmother."

Zoya laughed. "And you think that little virgin who hates you is going to give you that?"

"Yes." He smiled. "I might be older than you Zoya, but I am not so old that I have forgotten how seduce a woman."

Zoya raised an eyebrow. "When was the last time that you tried?"

"That is none of your concern. Now, go make those reservations for me and get me my coffee."

She sighed. "Fine. But I think you're a fool. There has to be a better way to get the throne than this."

"On the contrary Zoya, this way I get to have fun and take over Ravka. Two birds with one stone you know? It's quite efficient, don't you think?"

She snorted. "Fool. I hope she brings you ruin."

"I don't think she's going to be my ruin; I think she's going to be my rising. Now, about those reservations and that coffee, Miss Nazyalensky."

Zoya left, and when she did, he called Alina's number. He had managed to steal it from the Princes phone when he wasn't looking. He had already texted her once, just as a way to irritate her.

"What do you want, Soulless one?" Alina asked.

"I see that you have my number."

"I like to know when the Devil is calling."

"That is a good rule of thumb," he said, "you should never be taken off guard by someone more powerful than you."

"In that case, I'll keep my guard up around you."

"You're learning. You're going to make an excellent Lady Morozova."

"Is there a reason you're interrupting me because I am-----ouch!"

"Miss Starkov, are you alright?"

"The stylist is---ow---oh----ow---it's my fiancé, I would love to ignore him, but I don't think he'd tolerate it. He's that annoying."

"I heard that, Miss Starkov," he said, "is the stylist torturing me?"

"No, your mother is," Alina said, "she said that if I don't stand still, I'm going to look like a---OW!"

"Hand the phone to my mother," he said.

"I'm scared to."

"I'll take care of her," he said, "just give her the phone."

There was the sound of shuffling, another, "OW!" and then his mother said, "Your fiancé is being impossible."

"Hello, mother," he said, "what are you doing to her?"

"I am simply trying to give her a wardrobe befitting the future Lady Morozova. Something with style, that will make her stand out---"

"SHE'S TRYING TO PUT ANTLERS ON ME! IT POKES!" Alina shouted.

"Oh, hush," said Baghra, "you're exaggerating. Beauty is pain, my dear girl."

He chuckled. "Mother, please get rid of the horns please. I want her sleek, sensible, and classic."

Baghra sighed. "Impossible boy."

"Give me back to my fiancé, please," he said.

She huffed and then he heard the sound of the phone being handed back to Alina.

"She's a menace," said Alina.

"Pleased to see you're learning," he said, "now, I want you to pick out something special for tonight. We're having---"

"Ow. I would rather starve. Ow. Ow. Ow-------"

"Alina?"

"I'M NOT WEARING THE ANTLER CROWN, BAGHRA, OR THE MATCHING NECKLACE NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU OR IT POKES ME."

"THAT WAS FOR SAYING NO TO MY SON, GIRL. GO TO DINNER WITH HIM YOU FOOLISH THING."

Aleksander smiled. "Thank you, mother."

"OF COURSE."

 He hung up the phone and found himself grinning the rest of the day like a schoolboy.