Rasputina and the Witch's Tsar

Chapter Eighteen

When I return to my bedchambers, I'm astonished to see a young girl rifling through my things. I'm soastonished I pull a letter opener from the table and hold it to her throat with a snarl, clasping my hands over her lips.

"Who are you?" The girl winces beneath my hand. "No, you can't answer yet. But I'm warning you, scream, and you die."

I take my hand away and she comes into view. The light falls full over her features. It's Ursula, the girl who dressed me before the feast. The one who always whispers her prayers like a good little girl. Not as pretty as Princess Irina, but something about her that's cute. Dependable and round-faced and hopeful. She's the one who's been taking care of Kaskil, halfway because I pay her extra and halfway out of fear of me.

"Dear God, Ursula." I release her, and she collapses upon the bed. "I thought you were an intruder. I've been getting so many of those lately."

"I was making your bed and fixing your sheets, milady!" She cries, her lower lip trembling though her eyes are dry. Fighting tears. "I'm so sorry. I'll leave, I'll go..."

"No, stay. Did Kas ask you to attend me?"

"Yes, milady."

"Then you're good as any." I turn around, nodding to the laces. "You put me in this low-cut gown, then you can help me out of it."

"Yes, milady." She helps me at once, running for a clean robe to wear to bed. I slip it on and then she goes to release my hair from their tight restraints. "I chose a gown that I'd like to wear if I were in your place, milady."

I look to the low-cut. "It's a bit bold, isn't it?"

Ursula smiles, fixing my dark curls over one shoulder. "The more those vipers see, the less they assume you're hiding." She taps her head with the brush as she combs out my tangles. "But they don't know we store a lot up here. It's a battle dress, milady."

I pause, taking in Ursula anew. "That's one way of looking at it."

I yawn as she brushes her fingernails against my scalp, tending to the last of the tangles. "Pardon, milady," her quiet voice wrenches me from the silence. "But your relationship with the young Yakut man, Kaskil. Are you lovers?"

I look at her, then I see it in her eyes.

Dear God, she's developed a crush on him. How quaint.

I smirk, toying. "Well, he is quite handsome. Golden skin and dark hair and eyes. Cheekbones you could cut butter on. Do you think I should?" She remains silent, blushing furiously. "No, we're not lovers, Ursula." I venture forwards, watching her, with her auburn-kissed hair tied up in a prim and proper way. A ghost of unevenness in her skin, like her hands have hardly seen the outdoors. Have only known kisses of soap and salt. "But he did ask for you when I visited him. He asked 'Ursula', and seemed quite disappointed to see me."

She smiles, stifling it just as quickly. "Nobody would be disappointed to see you, miss."

"Even after I held a letter opener to your throat?"

She waves it away. "My sister used to threaten me with knives from the kitchen. My own mother would sell me to a brothel if I didn't find decent work. She very nearly did until I bit the owner." I pause, near-strangled by the casual manner of her confession. But she continues, as though discussing the weather. "But we're women. We're tough. We get over those slights."

I lean back clasping her hand gently. "You're a good one, Ursula. I'm sorry for frightening you."

"That's alright. You're like a cat I found in the forest." She smiles. "Feral when you first meet. But smile at it once, and it'll follow you home."

I process the girl's words a couple times, trying to discern a single meaning. Figuring it was just a nice way of saying, "you're alright", I respond with a smile of my own. "Thank you. Good night then, Ursula."

She hands me a glass of water and then heads to the door. "Good night, miss."

I set the glass down as I tuck myself into bed.

Kaskil and Ursula... who knew?