Rasputina and the Witch's Tsar

Chapter Five

The bathtub dips into the floor, polished thrice by servant hands. The water's so clear that every line of my hand is perfectly visible in it as I hold my fingers over the still-steaming water.

"You never see a tub before?" The servant snorts at me, skin gold and hair a warm auburn color. His eyes, though, are gleaming black, and they're tilted in an impudent smile. Lines near his eyes indicate he's regularly smiling, dark lashes fluttering over strong cheekbones. I instantly feel protective towards him, even maternal.

I have children far away from here. Still young, growing up beneath the watchful gaze of a peasant father who promises them that the rumors they heard about their witch of a mother are false. Far away from the chaos that is St. Petersburg.

I like this young man. I don't like many, but I like him.

I point my chin at him, a grin spreading on my face despite myself. "Have you ever tried to start conversations with 'hello' or 'how do you do'? I feel like those are less likely to get you in trouble." I take off my cloak, feeling guilty as its dirty threads touch the polished stool beside the tub. "They put a young man in here to watch me, all by my lonesome?"

"Funny. They didn't mention you were a woman. Not after calling you 'devil's spawn' for so long. I expected to see horns and hooves, at the least." He snorts, spreading bath salts and lemon-scented soaps in the frothy water. "You call me trouble. When you're born of the Yakut people, and stuck working for the ones who resented you, trouble's all you know." He studies my face for a second, shuddering as he looks away. "You? You're trouble."

I offer my hand to him. "Then you must know me twice as well. My name is Maria."

He takes it with a shrug. "Kaskil."

He turns around out of respect as I take off the rest of my soiled clothing. When I submerge myself into the hissing water, he gathers my ragged clothes and replaces them with fresh towels and a dress with finer threadwork.

"The dress. I need it to be simpler. Homespun and black."

He pauses, sees the utter seriousness in my eyes. "Funny choice for the newest royal favorite to wear. Most would choose emeralds or rubies."

"They say enough about me already. Let them not call me a thief." I lie back, my curls soaking in water. Weighing my head down. So easy to just lay here and never get up again. "Mm, this is heaven." I raise a single hand, soapy water streaming past my elbows. "Kaskil, you don't want to stay with me, do you? I can't reach my back."

Kaskil turns back with a wink and that same, easy grin. "Ah, my lovely succubus, I'm afraid I have to scrub the floors. Polish boots with my spit, the little pleasures of life."

I do like this person. I really do. Not even in the usual way I like men.

I trust him. How strange. How rare.

How dangerous.

"Kaskil?"

"Yes?" He looks slightly annoyed now. I don't blame him for it. I would be too if some royal-beloved stranger was pestering me.

"If you weren't here, in the Winter Palace, where would you be?"

"If I wasn't a servant, you mean?"

I nod, running my fingers through my hair, feeling the old knots and bruises give beneath my steady hands.

He pauses, staring at the wall past my shoulder, as if he sees through it to the heart of the city below. "Someone important. Someone that matters in this city, so they'd bow their heads as they see me. They'd call me sir. Mister. Never 'boy' or 'krepostnoi krestyanin. Not serf."

I watch him, staring into those dark eyes seeing past me.

Dangerous as it is, I see an ally.

"You want people to know your name, like I do."

He smiles at me, as respectful as one staring into the face of the Tsarina Nikola herself. As reverent. Slightly afraid. "Oh, they already know your name, Rasputina. Trust me. I've heard the wildest of stories. You steal babies from their beds at night. Did you know that?"

"You notice things, but you don't believe everything you hear. That's a good trait to have, Kas." I lean closer, waving him over. "How would you like to help me?"

"Do you have anything to spare?"

I grit my teeth. Nothing I haven't spent in bars or brothels. "No, but if you help me remain in the Romanovs' good graces, I'll have plenty."

Kaskil bows, making a big show of exaggerating the motion towards me, glancing at me from beneath slyly covered lashes. "Ah, now you're getting the hang of court life."

I snort, reaching for a towel to scrub at the sweat caked beneath my arms. Magic isn't easy. It takes blood to heal blood. But, with enough food and rest, I should have enough for Alexei, even enough to spare on my own desires. "Funny. Court life looks a lot more like a brothel than anything else. Just bigger words for the same thing."

Kaskil has kept his gaze respectfully above my neck for the whole of this conversation. I attempt to send him onwards, with a blessing, but pain stops me. I'm too drained from healing Alexei. It feels like a knot in my side, like it hurts just to breathe.

"You're falling ill yourself." He remarks, running to grab drinkable water for me. Gratefully, I press it to my lips.

I grimace. "Nothing sleep won't fix."

Sensing the pointed implication in my words, he nods, and makes for the door. "I'll leave you be. Kørsyøxxe dɯlɯ. Ситиһиини баҕарабын."

I resist the urge to yell at him. Pain should make you act stronger, not weaker. I bite my anger back to reply, as coolly as possible."What's that supposed to mean?"

He turns around with a wink. "Goodbye, and good luck." As he swings the door closed, I catch him mumbling. "Succubus."

I lean back in the tub, satisfied that I have something of an ally for now. I trail my fingers in the bathwater, watching a spiral leap out of the foam. Watching as light dances beneath the reflection. Magic, returning. Humming in my chest, drained for breath as I am.

Luck.

Oh, I'll need it.