*Ana*
"They are what?" The words leave my lips before I can stop them. But it's not that I misheard. No, my ears are sharper now—I couldn't mishear anything even if I wanted to.
I just don't want to believe it. My mind refuses to process the words, like a wall slamming up to block logic from sinking in.
I know it, but I refuse to accept it.
"What did you say?" My gaze locks onto Admiral Nugen once more. I feel foolish, but the admiral bears with me. No—more than that. He understands.
I see it in the weariness lining his face, the exhaustion in his stance. His clothes are travel-worn, dirt clinging to the hems from what must have been days of relentless riding. And he came alone. He made the journey by himself.
Despite it all, he's patient with me. I can't help but admire him for that.
"The Bulgeons have joined forces with the southern colonies." His voice is steady, but I don't miss the way his throat works around the words, as if forcing them out.
I exhale sharply. I shouldn't have made him repeat it. Yet even as the words settle, he hesitates. There's more.
"What is it?" My chest tightens as I hold my breath.
What could be worse than this? Our wealthiest colony aligning with vagabonds— desperate men already on the edge as it was? What other news is there?
"Admiral Nugen?" I press.
His stance stiffens. A hesitation. A flicker of something in his eyes—anger? Grief?
"The convoy sent…" He exhales. "They sank it."
For a moment, my mind goes blank.
"They—" The words catch in my throat. The weight of them slams into me, sending my thoughts reeling. How? How could I have misjudged the situation so poorly? I thought—no, I expected—that given the circumstances, things would move peacefully.
The room falls quiet then, his words hanging in the air like a buzzing insect, taking over the room.
My fingers reach for my scarf, tracing the thread forrest, the deer, their antlers. But the gold is almost gone. Growing threadbare and raw. Rough and scratchy against my fingertips as I continue to pass them over again and again. Just focused on the feeling for a moment.
My fingers stop to let me swallow thickly.
"How many were lost?" My voice is quieter now.
Admiral Nugen's jaw tenses. Shadows flicker across his face. "We… can't get firm numbers," he admits. "But we know some have been taken captive."
"Captive?" Mykhol's voice cuts in, sharper than usual. His usual cadence—his teasing, confident tone—is gone.
"How long ago?"
"The report came in shortly after you all left."
The answer chills me. That means… this news is already two, three weeks old.
"A few days after we left…" The realization sinks in like a stone. If they were taken captive that long ago—
"I told you coming here was a rash choice." Mykhol shifts closer to me, his voice lower now. "Did I not say so?"
I don't answer. I don't need to. He already knows the truth.
"But you were so insistent on going," he adds, nudging my shoulder—not hard, but enough to remind me. Enough to make me look at him.
He's right.
"My lord, forgive me," Admiral Nugen interjects, his voice firm, "but no one could have predicted the Bulgeons would partner with the colonists. This is not Her Empress's fault."
Mykhol exhales, running a hand over his jaw. "But you come with week-old news—two, nearly three." He lifts his fingers, counting mockingly. "You must admit, it doesn't help things." He turns back to me. "Anastasia, had you stayed, you could have reacted sooner."
I flinch at the words. Should have. He doesn't say it outright, but I hear it just the same.
And he's right. I could have reacted faster. Instead, I sit here, listening to news weeks too late. And the captives—
"Lord Mykhol, you—" Admiral Nugen bristles, but I lift my hand, silencing him. Arguing now would be foolish.
There's work to do. My responsibilities as Empress are arriving faster than I expected.
The thought makes my chest ache. Nicoli…
I push it down. There's no time to be distracted.
"We'll leave at the end of the week. I'll be stable enough to travel by then."
Admiral Nugen and Mykhol exchange glances, but neither protests.
"Naska, I'll need you to pack." I shift my focus to where she stands, lingering by the wall. She hasn't even pretended to be working—just listening, hands idly fidgeting.
Naska's eyes widen. "Does that mean we can go?"
I barely nod before she brightens, her entire demeanor shifting. "Really? We can?"
"Yes, by the end of the—"
"Oh, thank god!" She doesn't even let me finish before she spins, practically dancing away.
I blink. That's… unexpected.
"Naska, the trunks," I remind her, tone firmer.
"I—yes, Your Empress." She bows quickly and rushes to work, yanking open the closet to pull out the first trunk.
"Like a child." Mykhol laughs at the sight beside me. He looks amused. Meanwhile, I don't even want to dwell on it.
If Naska is motivated to do so, let her be. It needs to get done one way or the other. Time is not on my side.
Speaking of which—
I turn back to Admiral Nugen. "Does my father know about this?"
If he doesn't, he needs to. Not just as an explanation for my departure—but because I suspect he would want to know.
Is that a bit indulgent of me? I slightly feel it might be. But something tells me he would be upset if I didn't tell him.
"I met with him prior."Admiral Nugen's face tightens slightly. But it's a relief to me.
"So he understands the situation, then?"
"Yes, he-"
"Why did you tell him?" Mykhol scoffs. "You're not his lackey. This is a Nochten affair, not Dawny's."
"I didn't have a choice." Admiral Nugen's eyes narrow.
"I wasn't informed her Empress was…under quarantine." He looks at me now, his brows knitting together.
I nod, already understanding his frustration. "It was an unexpected situation."
"Still, you shouldn't have told him." Mykhol doesn't let up. "It's a breach of loyalty."
I stiffen. "Cousin, this is not—"
"As is protocol." Mykhol taps a finger against his fang, his tone deceptively casual. But the click of nail against tooth lets me know what he means.
It makes me freeze. Wincing in a sharp breath that cuts as I can almost feel the snow back on my skin. The burning cuts of ice from that day. The decisions I had to make.
He's using my own words against me. I trace my fingers along the frayed string, dwelling on the rough pull against my skin. Each touch sending a bolt of ease, or trying to at least.
"I understand," I say at last, though I regret it instantly. The words tasting metallic and spoiled.
Admiral Nugen bows. "I will ride back to alert them of your plans."
"Ride back? Already? No, please stay. You must rest." He's been traveling nonstop. He must be exhausted.
"Surely, one night-" At least to get cleaned up and eat something.
But Nugen moves to one knee, placing a hand over his heart.
"Seeing your face is enough rest for the likes of me, your Empress." He smiles despite everything. His scar looks swollen and angry as he does.
"No, I want you to stay. At least to get rest. For my sake."
But before he can respond, Mykhol steps between us.
"Then go. Ana needs to eat again."
Admiral Nugen's eyes flick to the table. The tray remains untouched, the cup of blood cooling by the second.
I shrink a little under the observation.
"Very well." His voice is unreadable. Without another word, he turns and leaves as swiftly as he came.
"How can this happen right now?" I press my hands to my face. Too much. It's all happening at once.
But my mind drifts back to Nicoli.
How am I going to tell him? The idea is the most upsetting.
"Why does everything seem to happen all at once?"
"Cousin," Mykhol murmurs, "have you ever heard the old expression?"
I lower my hands. "Expression?"
He picks up the glass, handing it to me.
"When it rains, it pours."
"This isn't rain." I take a slow sip. It's not cow's blood this time, so I manage to swallow more. But I still can't finish. It is sweeter but leaves a chalky aftertaste. Coating my tongue, making it dry and sticky.
When will it ever stop? I look at the table. Our cards are out. Just before, we were in a game when Admiral Nugen came in.
And before that, I was with Nicoli and Hidi. I catch sight of the window. The cup still rests where I put it, but it's growing dark. The whole affair seems to have stolen more hours than I thought.
It is all just tiring. I think again and sink into my chair.
Meanwhile, Mykhol takes the glass from my hand, tipping it back and draining it in one go. He doesn't even flinch—unlike me, he seems to be a natural at drinking.
"It's just an expression, Ana." He licks the rim absentmindedly before moving to sit beside me. The motion makes my spine stiffen. Suddenly, the room feels unbearably stuffy.
Very stuffy.
"Can I be left alone?"
Mykhol freezes mid-motion. His eyes flicker with something—anger? Hurt? I can't quite tell. But whatever it is, it vanishes just as quickly, masked beneath his usual nonchalance.
"If you like." His voice is light, but there's something careful about it. He lifts a hand, tapping my cheek. "I'll be just next door if you need me."
"I know." I know he's not far. He never really is, is he? It's good to have him near me sometimes. But not right now.
As Naska yanks another trunk from the closet, I feel it again—Mykhol's touch lingering against my cheek. His fingers are warm, familiar. But it's too much. I move to brush them away.
"You…" Mykhol murmurs, his lips curling into a soft smile—the kind he only ever shows when we're alone.
"Good night, Mykhol."
His smile shrinks, just a little. But it stays. "Good night, Ana."
He hesitates at the doorway, glancing back at me.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Nothing." The smile returns, but there's something unreadable behind it. "See you in the morning."
And with that, he slips out.
Strange. The thought lingers, but I don't get to dwell on it.
A loud thump jolts me from my thoughts.
"Mother fucker!" Naska swears under her breath. "This is heavy."
She swipes her arm across her forehead, smearing sweat away, but instead of complaining further, she simply moves to grab another trunk. She carries on without hesitation.
It takes me a moment to notice—she's smiling.
It's rare to see Naska happy while working, but now, she almost seems… content.
Homesick, I realize. That, and she probably misses Bruno. I wish I could feel the same. But as for me, my emotions are mixed.
I exhale slowly. I will be busy. That much is certain. Once I'm back, everything changes.
Soon I will be crowned Empress. The thought sends a surge of anticipation through me, lifting my chest as excitement stirs- the long-awaited moment finally here. I have worked for this, endless hours of study, reading, training. Since the day I stepped foot in Nochten, this was the future that drove me on. Shaping me to become who I am.
And as soon as I set foot on home soil, I'll have work to do—holding court, assessing the situation with the colonies, reestablishing control. The responsibilities I have spent years preparing for will at last be mine.
It is finally here. I should be happy. I should be…
But outside of duty… there is nothing. No one will be there waiting at the gates eager for my return. No familiar face I wish to see.
Instead, my thoughts drift in the opposite direction. Not to Nochten, but towards the one I am leaving behind.
And I know—he will be upset when he finds out. I know what I must do. But it tugs at my heart.
For the first time, the future I have always planned for…doesn't feel as whole as I wanted it to.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "Nicoli…" His name barely escapes my lips as I sink deeper into my seat, closing my eyes.
When I open my eyes again, they land on the cup and string.
I reach for them, fingers brushing the worn edges. I want to remember this.
I want to remember the happiness I found here.
Because I don't know when I will have it again.