The Queen's Bastard

AKILINA PANKEJEFF, DVORYANIN

24 November 1587 Lutetia Akilina watches Viktor slip out of the alcove, and taps a toe against the chilly floor. Her feet ache from the hard stone and her toenails are edged with blue from cold, but bare feet and the soft shift she wears made no sound as she followed her guardsman through the palace, unbeknownst to him and very clearly unbeknownst to Beatrice Irvine. Explaining her outfit will be unnecessary, should she come upon a courtier as she returns to her rooms: she is, after all, Khazarian, and can use that as an excuse for any oddities in behavior the palace hangers-on might observe.

She heard very little of the conversation from her hideaway; she heard much more clearly the sounds of passion. That alone would be enough to condemn Irvine on; Akilina is a countess and a noblewoman of repute, and Irvine is almost nothing. Even backed by her lover-by Javier, Akilina corrects her own thought, as it appears the term lover can be used generously when speaking of Beatrice Irvine-even backed by a prince’s belief, Irvine’s reputation would be shattered with Akilina’s accusations of infidelity. Javier would have to put her aside.

But better still is the fact that what words Akilina did catch spoken between the lovers were spoken in Khazarian. That lends strength to Viktor’s feverish insistence that he knew this woman on Gregori’s estates in Khazar: at the very least, she has the tongue for it.

Ruining Javier’s marriage is a delightful end in and of itself, but discovering the truth of who Beatrice Irvine is is the far more entertaining game. Akilina tucks her shift beneath her feet and stands watch, waiting for Beatrice to leave the alcove down the hall so that she might say she saw the assignation with her own eyes, both lovers identified.

In time, the curtains shift, but no one emerges. Akilina frowns and watches more closely, keeping her place until afternoon sun has crept around the palace to pour into her nook. Aching from sitting on stone and weary with the wait, Akilina rises and stalks down the hall to push back the velvet curtains.

No one at all is within the alcove.

It’s only then that she remembers Viktor’s flushed cheeks, the sickness that seems to ride him, and his mumbled accusation of witchcraft.