She leaned her head against his chest, and Isaak strode across the island, his teeth chattering, his boots squelching wetly, until they emerged from the trees onto the island’s opposite bank.
Everyone was peering at the water as would-be rescuers paddled around the Kerch boat and Grisha Tidemakers pulled back the lake in sheaves of water that hovered above the surface.
Someone caught sight of Isaak and Birgitta and shouted, “There they are!”
“She’s right as rain!” Isaak called. “But twice as damp. We could both use some dry clothes and some hot tea.”
The crowd burst into applause. Isaak set down Birgitta before his arms gave out, depositing her on the sand like a pile of wet laundry. He bowed and managed to stop his teeth chattering long enough to kiss her hand.
He’d graduated from minor breaches of etiquette to nearly getting himself and someone else drowned. Perhaps tomorrow he’d manage to burn down the palace.
Birgitta Schenck and Isaak were hustled onto the royal barge, wrapped in blankets, and dosed with hot brandy as servants chafed their hands. But it wasn’t until he was back in Nikolai’s quarters and submerged in a steaming bath in the king’s vast tub that Isaak finally started to feel warm again.
Genya and the others had remained in intense conversation in the sitting room while Isaak had been left to soak in peace. He was going to miss this tub when the king returned. The rest he could do without.
He stayed in the bath until the water turned cold and he’d started to prune. He didn’t particularly want to face the people waiting next door, but he forced himself out of the tub and dried himself off with one of the long linen bath sheets.
Nikolai employed no valet, which had been a relief to Isaak; he hadn’t had anyone help him dress since he was a child. He put on the king’s soft breeches and boots, the shirt and suspenders, the fitted coat embroidered with the Lantsov eagle. He could admit the clothes weren’t a bad part of the deal either. They had been constructed meticulously and were as comfortable as they were elegant. As Isaak adjusted his coat, his fingers touched on something in the right pocket. He was always finding things tucked away in the pockets of the king’s clothes—a note the king had scrawled to himself or a sketch of what might be a new invention, a small silver bead. This time he pulled a tiny knot of wire from his coat. It had been fashioned into the shape of a sailing ship. He set it on the king’s vanity.
“We think this may actually be a good thing,” said Tamar as Isaak entered the sitting room.
He joined them by the fire, glad for the warmth. “So I should try to drown more often?”
“It wasn’t ideal,” Genya said, pouring him a cup of tea. “You missed your chance to chat with Princess Ehri. But we made the best of it, and the king looked like a hero.”
“The carry was a nice touch,” said Tamar.
“Very heroic,” said Tolya, “like a prince out of the epic poems. And so Ivan the Gilded Hair bore her across the—”
“Keep reciting poetry and I will personally drown you in the lake,” said Tamar.
Tolya scowled and muttered “It’s a classic” into his tea.
Isaak didn’t agree, but he doubted this was the time to debate poetry.
Genya nudged David, and he looked up from the treatise he was reading. “We traced the trigger device used to rig the king’s door with arsine gas. It’s most likely Fjerdan.”
“Will they be arrested?” asked Isaak.
Tamar looked almost bemused. “Of course not. It’s not something we can actually prove, and, in a way, this is good news.”
“Of course,” said Isaak. He scratched his ear. “Exactly how is it good news?”
“We already suspected the Fjerdans didn’t come to play. If it had been the Kerch or the Shu, we would have had real cause to worry. This means the Shu are still open to an alliance. We were curious to see who might attempt the king’s life.”
“Without risking the king?” Isaak asked, surprised at the bitter edge in his voice.
Tolya rested a giant hand on his shoulder. “We would never let harm come to you, Isaak.”
“I know,” said Isaak. But did he? And could he really complain? It was a soldier’s lot to be expendable. A guard’s job to put himself between his ruler and harm. Wasn’t that exactly what he was doing now?
Tamar leaned back in her chair and crossed her long legs. “I’ve searched the chambers of the Shu guards.”
“They’re our guests,” protested Tolya.
“They’re our enemies,” said Tamar.
“And potential allies,” said Genya. “It wouldn’t do to make them mad.”
“We were cautious. But there was little to learn. The few journals I found were kept in code, and I doubt any member of the Tavgharad would be foolish enough to put damning details to paper.”
“And the Kerch made an attempt on our labs,” said Tolya.
David looked up from his reading, startled. “Did they get in?”
“We let them make it all the way to the Fabrikator workshops.”
“Oh,” said David, losing interest.
“We’re not concerned about that?” asked Isaak.
“The real work happens elsewhere,” said Tamar. “We even planted some fake blueprints for them to find. All of it should help set the stage for our performance at the Gilded Bog.”
“We’re going to the Gilded Bog?” asked Isaak, unable to hide his excitement.
“Unfortunately,” said Tolya.
Genya tucked her slippered feet beneath her. “We’ll be using Count Kirigin’s lake to show the Kerch our prototype of the izmars’ya.” A look passed between the others that Isaak didn’t understand, but that was nothing new. He assumed someone would tell him what exactly an izmars’ya was so he could nod sagely about the subject when the time came.
“You will be working,” added Tamar. “Not sampling Kirigin’s entertainments.”
“Of course,” said Isaak. But he could at least get a glimpse of what all the fuss was about.
Genya pushed a sheaf of papers over to him. “Here are notes for the dinner tonight. You won’t be expected to make a speech, but this will be a more formal affair, so you’ll need to do your best to seem at ease. Tomorrow is the hunt.”
“I can hunt at least,” said Isaak with relief.
“Not like a gentleman hunts. But Nikolai was never much for the sport anyway. He has a fondness for foxes. The hunt is just an excuse to ride and get to know the hopefuls. Remember to spread your conversation evenly amongst them. We’ll go over the particulars tonight after dinner.”
They filed out and Isaak let his head flop back, staring at the gilded ceiling. He felt both tired and restless. He glanced at the notes on place settings and how to eat oysters and tossed them aside. He needed to clear his head.
As soon as he opened the door, Tolya was there. “Is something wrong?”