My stomach knotted from their auras. Their voices were light, but cords of tension strung between them, thicker than ever.
“On the contrary,” Valko replied, “the gods are smiling on me. Only yesterday I raised the bounty threefold on refugees from the law, and already I’ve received word that one man has been captured.” He chuckled. “Seems people can’t resist their share of a bounty hunter’s purse, especially when all that is required is the whispering of a criminal’s whereabouts.”
“Indeed,” Anton replied stiffly. “Am I to presume then that Yuri has been apprehended?”
“No, no. Someone far more valuable.” The heels of the boots snapped together, side by side. “That infamous gypsy poet.”
All my breath rushed out of me. Anton’s toes clenched white against the floor. “Tosya?” After a strained moment of silence, the prince walked past Valko, no doubt so his brother wouldn’t see the look of horror etched across his face. “Tosya . . . Pashkov, isn’t it?” Anton tried to sound disinterested, but I heard the tremor in his voice, mirroring the tremor inside him. My entire body quivered with it. He knew as well as I did Tosya’s fate was sealed. If Pia had been executed for mere association with a traitor, there was no question the supposed instigator of the revolution would not be spared.
“The very same,” Valko answered.
Anton’s feet turned slightly toward the emperor. “And is he here now? Imprisoned?”
“I’ve seen him myself. An odd fellow. Rather too tall to be hunched over a writing table.”
The prince twisted around to face his brother. “If I may, My Lord, I would caution you not to execute him straightaway. He has won the favor of many countrymen, and they will demand a fair trial. You wouldn’t want any riots, not when you are seeking to boost your popularity in light of the lowered draft age.”
I silently praised Anton for his quick logic. The only card he had left to play was delaying Tosya’s execution for as long as possible. Perhaps, with a little more time, we could find a means of helping our friend escape.
The emperor shifted and leaned his weight into his left boot. “Tosya will be tried,” he said at length. “Publicly,” he added, “so all those intoxicated by his words will discover him for the defamer and blasphemer he is.”
“Good thinking. I agree that is the best recourse,” Anton replied, masterfully turning the conversation so the trial seemed to be the emperor’s idea in the first place.
“I will speak to my councilors.” The black boots clipped back to the door, first with deliberation, then they slowed, hesitating. The emperor spun around to the prince. “You haven’t seen Sonya this morning?”
I pressed my body flat to the floor. The jealousy in his aura tasted bitter on my tongue. Was this the real reason Valko had come, to see if I was here?
“No, I haven’t.” Anton didn’t miss a beat. He lazily padded toward the furnace where he kept his samovar. “Perhaps she went on a stroll through the gardens.”
“Yes . . . perhaps.”
I cringed and waited for Valko to say more—that he knew I hadn’t returned to my rooms last night, nor was I there at daybreak. But when he didn’t pursue the subject any further, I presumed Lenka had covered for me, once again.
The emperor opened the door. “If you do see her, tell her I’ve left her a gift in her antechamber. A peace offering. She’ll know why.”
“As you wish.”
The black boots left. The door thumped shut. I closed my eyes and rested them on the backs of my hands, allowing myself to breathe. Valko hadn’t discovered me. Still, I dared not move. What if he burst in again?
Anton seemed to have the same concern. A long minute passed before I heard the floorboards creak under his quiet footsteps. The door opened and shut again. “It’s all right, Sonya. He’s gone.”
I lifted myself up on shaking legs and gripped one of his bedposts for balance. My gown was a rumpled mess.
Anton barely looked at me. He rushed to a small drawer in his dresser. “I’m assuming you don’t have your key.” He withdrew an identical copy and crossed to the midnight-blue door. “I have to leave at once.” He opened it. “You should return to your rooms.”
I stood frozen behind the bed. “Where are you going?”
“I need to speak with Nicolai and Feliks—together if I can arrange it.”
“About Tosya?”
“Yes.”
My heart sagged with unbearable weight. The world seemed to be crumbling at its foundations.
Anton strode back, took my arm, and ushered me to the door. He wasn’t being harsh by any means, but time was of the essence and I was only slowing him down. Unless—“Can I come with you? I could wear a disguise.”