Rasputina and the Witch's Tsar

Chapter Nineteen

We sit at the side of the Neva, throwing filched oats into a calm spot in the river, a glorified puddle, where a few birds are resting. Alexei claps with delight as the birds snap up their prizes. I tuck his hair beneath his hood and scarf. It's easier to bring him out the palace as the days get colder. All the layers can hide his face.

"Miss Maria." I smile as he uses the title before my first name. "Will you ever leave me?"

I raise an eyebrow at that, plucking some oats from his palm to throw at a particularly scrawny looking bird. "Not by choice, little one."

"Miss Maria."

I turn to see his little face, all red from the cold. "Yes, little one?"

"Are we good people?"

I pause, wondering where to start with that question. It gets worse.

"Do you love my papa?"

"Of course, I respect the tsarina and tsar very much..."

"No," he insists, little eyes wide. "Do you love him like mama does?"

A messenger comes running in the snow, panting as he does a perfunctory bow. "Miss Rasputina. A message from the tsarina and tsar."

Thank God.

I take the card, embossed with silver edges, and flip it over as the messenger backs away a bit, offering the semblance of privacy even if he hasn't left us.

You have some special guests. -Tsarina Nikola Aleksandrovich II

I peer closer at the bottom of the address. An apartment suite's address is printed there, labeled with delicate, looping print. Wherever it is, it's in the prime parts of St. Petersburg. Just enough to show that you've made it without bragging.

"There is transportation arranged." The messenger informs me.

"Will she return?" Alexei budges forwards.

The messenger, aghast that the little prince is just sitting by the Neva like a commoner child, chuckles nervously. "It is only a visit, Prince Alexei."

I place my hand on the child's head, willing he heal. His cheeks look redder than they did before. I doubt that's wishful thinking. I still take precautions he doesn't scrape his knee or fall, but he can walk on his own. That's better than his bedridden state. "As sure as birds fly." I tell him with a smile. "Now, let's see about these special visitors."