Luka bowed in return, and with a last smile, Maya turned and walked away from him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next day, Maya cornered Luka in his study after a late breakfast. They’d both been up late the night before, so they had a late start, and she didn’t begrudge him a few extra hours of sleep. He’d been drinking the night before, after all.
After a lazy meal of fresh fruits and coffee, Maya took herself to Luka’s study, where she found him sitting behind his desk, as usual, a pensive look on his face. He looked up when she entered, waving her in and asking if she wanted tea. When the butler had brought them a tray of little tea cakes and set up thesamovarand tea tray to Luka’s left, he left them to their solitude.
When Luka finally looked up, his eyes were tired. Maya knew he had a lot on his mind, she didn’t fool herself into thinking that he’d unburdened himself yesterday, that they’d spoken about everything that was plaguing him. They were both people who hated to confess to any weaknesses, and it made it difficult for them to request—or receive—help.
Maya made herself a cup of tea and sat back down in her seat. She remained silent as she sipped at her tea and waited for Luka to speak. Whatever had him lost in his thoughts was something he wanted to share with her, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it quite just yet.
After a long, tense silence, Luka sighed heavily. He reached into a drawer in his desk and drew out a letter.
“Here,” he said, tossing it to her. “Read this and tell me what you think.”
With a frown, Maya set her teacup down on the table and looked the letter. It was a simple letter, written in what looked like a feminine hand. As she read it quickly, Maya felt her eyebrows climb to her hairline.
“Who sent this?” she asked, as she placed the letter back on Luka’s desk. “Who is warning you against the Crown Prince of Sunvaara?”
Luka steepled his fingers as he leaned forward in his chair. “I have no idea. I’ve sent Stoffel to make enquiries, but right now, I’m inclined to think that this letter was sent to me via teleportation magic.”
“Well then, tracing the sender is impossible,” Maya said disgustedly. “Isn’t it?”
“Yes, and no,” Luka said, surprising her. “All magic leaves a trace, and although the mage behind this spell is skillful enough to hide their identity, there may be something we can yet learn.”
“Like what?”
“We’ll know more when Stoffel returns,” Luka said easily. “Now, tell me what you think of this. You’ve met the Crown Prince, haven’t you? What do you think of him?”
Maya sighed. “The Crown Prince is…” She shrugged, taking up her tea again to take a sip as she thought of how to put her feelings of unease into words. She saw him at the royal ball that the Tsar had thrown to celebrate the engagement, and she’d observed the man for a while, unseen. He seemed charming, to be sure, always ready to converse with nobles and courtiers alike, always ready with a smile or a laugh.
After a while, Maya had noticed a disturbing pattern with the man. Crown Prince Sekhar had smiled whenever a new acquaintance had come up to him with a smile, he’d been friendly and outgoing to be sure, but once their conversation was over, he’d gone back to looking around him with poorly hidden disinterest.
Which was not such a problem in itself. It was how most courtiers behaved. It was how her father, the consummate diplomat, behaved at court as well.
But upon closer observation, Maya had noticed that the man was a mirror—if the person before him was a pompous, serious sort of person, the Crown Prince was somber and pensive. If the person in conversation with him was full of smiles, the Prince was all genial amiability. He gave each person he spoke to the reaction he thought they wanted—as if he was playing a part with each one of them. Maya had to wonder if everything he did was a performance, if there was any part of him that was true.
And worst of all, it seemed to work. All the nobles liked the Crown Prince and thought he would make the perfect son-in-law to their Tsar.
“Yes?” Luka prompted her, and Maya frowned.
“I don’t think the Crown Prince is trustworthy. He’s too adept at making people like him.”
“Surely that isn’t a fault but a requirement for a noble?”
“No, this is more than that,” Maya said, shaking her head. She set her empty teacup on the table before her and crossed her arms. “I don’t know how else you tell you this, so you’ll just have to trust me. He may just be a flawless politician, but there’s more to it than that. The Crown Prince seemed like the kind of man who wouldn’t care about…anything, as long as his goals were met.”
“So, he’s ambitious?”
“He’s not the right kind of husband for Ludmilla,” Maya stressed, pressing her hands flat against Luka’s desk. “You know what the Third Princess is like. She’s too kind for him. Too gentle.”
Maya got to her feet, unable to sit still. She paced across Luka’s study as the words came out of her.
“If she marries that man and goes to Sunvaara with him, he’ll eat away her heart until there’s nothing left of her. Men likethat, they just take and take.”
She shook her head, trying to calm her breathing. It was difficult, the situation reminded her too closely to what had happened to her own mother: a gentle, kind lady married to a man used to command and authority.
Baron Stepan von Rakhmonov had been a royal diplomat sent to Sunvaara to talk trade when he met Leela Nabam, the daughter of a minor lord in a border kingdom of Sunvaara. He’d fallen in love with the young lady, wooed her and won her, and taken her back with him to Drakazov as his wife.
