But the look that Alexei gives me isn’t one that I’m expecting. “She’s welcome to try.” He smiles and pulls me closer. My hands slide to his shoulders. I’m pressed tight against his chest.
“I have to marry him,” I repeat before Alexei and I can get any closer. In a lot of ways. “This was a warning as much as anything. If they can kill the king … I have to marry him.”
Alexei pulls me tighter. “You’re not married yet.”
And then his lips are on mine and my fingers are in his hair and everything fades away, the streets and the darkness and the prince who is a few blocks and an entire world away.
Nothing matters except this and here and now. Nothing matters except us.
But there never can be an us, I know now. Not ever again.
And so instead of sinking into Alexei, I make myself pull away. Someday soon I know I’ll regret it, regret not making the most of these brief moments while they lasted. But what’s going to haunt me more in the future—memories or regrets? I honestly do not know.
“Gracie …” Alexei starts. He pushes a piece of hair out of my face.
“There’s something I have to tell you.”
“No. No more talking,” he says, then kisses me again, so hard that I almost forget my fears and my guilt and the dread that has been simmering inside of me for ages.
But, eventually, the kiss ends and I ask, “Is your mom really lucid?” for reasons I don’t know.
“Gracie, don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I ask.
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
And that makes me break away. It’s like I’m being held by a stranger.
“Do you honestly think I’m capable of that? Well, I’m not.” My voice is dry and joyless. “Don’t worry. I will never get my hopes up ever again.”
“Shh, Grace.” Alexei tries to hold me again, but this is a completely different kind of embrace. He knows I’m on the verge of running—not toward but away.
“She killed the king,” I say, because it’s the only fact that matters. “She killed the king.”
“I know,” Alexei says and smooths my hair. Then his arms are gone and his hand takes mine. “Come on.”
He doesn’t take me to Iran. Not to Russia or the US or any of the embassies on the row. Instead, Alexei leads me to a narrow, winding street just like a hundred others in Valancia. In fact, I probably couldn’t find it again if I tried, but I’m not thinking about the future. And I’m not thinking about the past. I’m just trying to memorize every second of this moment because I know it may very well be our last.
When Alexei walks up the steps to a narrow town house, somehow I’m surprised when he reaches into his pocket for a key and unlocks the door.
When he smiles at me, I raise my eyebrows.
“Dominic,” he explains, because of course Dominic has a safe house. He probably has a dozen.
The apartment is old but neat. Clean and tidy but without frills. A lovely woman comes rushing toward the sound of the opening door, saying, “You’re back! I’m so glad. I was …” Karina trails off at the sight of me. Her entire countenance changes when she says, “I know you.”
Carefully, I glance at Alexei, who nudges me closer to his mother. “Yeah. I—”
“Caroline,” she says, and my spirits fall. But then she brightens. “You look just like Caroline, so that means you must be … Grace?”
I must have been holding my breath because I can feel myself exhale.
“Yes,” I say, relief rushing over me. “Yes, I’m Grace.”
And then I see—really see—Alexei’s mother for the first time. Her hair is short and clean and curls into a natural wave just like her son’s. Her eyes are brighter, less tired. But, most of all, she seems present in a way she never has before.
I don’t know what they were giving her at that facility, but I can imagine. I know better than anyone that the medicine can be far worse than the disease. I know how it feels to be here but not here, in the now but locked in the past.
She isn’t shaking. Her eyes don’t dart around the room as if there might be an attack at any moment. But there’s still an edge to her—the never-ceasing pulse of someone who knows just how bad things can turn and just how quickly.
I know because I carry it myself.
“‘Hush, little princess …’” Karina starts to sing, and panic rises within me. I can’t let her slip away—not now. Not after she has come so far.
“No. Stay with me, Karina,” I say, reaching for her. “Stay here.”
“Your mother wanted me to sing that for her, the last time I saw her.”
I look at Alexei. It’s like we’ve both felt a piece of the puzzle start to fall into place.
“When did you see her?” Alexei asks. “When did you see Caroline?”
Karina brightens at the name. “Caroline? Oh, I’d love to see Caroline. Is she here?”
And my heart falls again. Alexei’s hand rests at the small of my back as if to comfort me and remind me that there are no miracles.
“No,” I say, and Karina’s face falls. “She’s not here.”
“That’s too bad,” Karina says. “I haven’t seen her in … well, I think it must have been months.”
“Yes.” I force a smile. “I think it’s been a while.”
“We’re very dear friends, your mother and I. Did you know?”