"You say he's kinder to me, but at least he tells you things. He trusts you," Talia continued. Not waiting to be offered another glass, she reached for the bottle and poured her own. She knew without looking that Prince Mikhail was glaring at her now, and she smiled to herself. "Do you know, that when I asked him why I had been tricked into running from Pirchburg and who had sent those ruffians in the woods, he said there was no way to know because of all the enemies he had!"
"That's probably true, Princess," Ilya shrugged lightly.
"Do you know that he never even told me why he left Bludston in the first place or where he went or what he did? When I first saw him, I was half-dead and near frozen, but I remember his armor was covered in blood. I bet you know all about it," Talia continued.
"I was in Chelblade. The village had been overrun by a small rebel group that I was ordered to put down," Prince Mikhail answered quietly.
"Chelblade!" Talia repeated, forgetting her list of complaints against the Prince. "I heard about Chelblade. There's monsters near Chelblade."
The silence that followed her statement felt strangely tense, and Talia suddenly regretted saying such a thing. Why was she running her mouth so much and complaining anyways? She took a nervous sip from her newly filled wine glass and pretended not to notice.
"That's funny," Ilya chuckled, but it sounded strained to her. "Where did you hear something like that?"
"Pirchburg," Talia answered honestly,
"I was in Pirchburg, and I never heard that," Ilya scoffed and helped himself to a second lemon tart.
"You weren't with me when I heard it," she answered shortly, a bit annoyed that he doubted her.
"Oh, and where was that?" Ilya taunted her with a smirk.
"It was... it was umm..." Talia paused to consider it. Her face felt hot. "It's very warm isn't it? I'm not complaining, of course, it was really quite pleasant at first, but I think it's grown even warmer now. Perhaps even a bit too warm."
"Where did you hear about monsters in Chelblade?" Ilya reminded her.
"It was the marketplace. The two men who sell ale out of that niche in the western wall. That's where I heard it!" she remembered.
"And they just walked up to you and started discussing the time they saw monsters in Chelbade?" Ilya scoffed.
"No! I overheard them talking. They said... what did they say..." Talia frowned and tried to remember. Her thoughts which were normally sharp and quick, were fuzzy and slow to form. She took another sip of the sweet wine and stole a glance at Prince Mikhail, half-expecting him to snatch the glass away. The Prince seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as he sat unmoving before an untouched plate of food. He had barely even touched his drink.
Drink! The men in the square said Dahlman didn't make things up, even when he was drunk. Neither did she for that matter! She turned to glare at Ilya.
"I remember now," she smirked. "They were complaining about a customer. One of the men said the customer was making up stories because he was drunk, and the other said Dahlman was an honest man who didn't make things up, even when he was drinking. Dahlman did the run between Chelblade and Pirchburg for 17 years, they said. He saw monsters in Chelblade, and was telling everyone!"
"Pirchburg is one of the larger towns in the highlands, a lot of people would make supply trips there. However, the only sort of person who would make a trek that long every week would be a blacksmith or someone who supplies a smithy. Pirchburg has the mines, after all," Ilya said quickly.
Talia rubbed her forehead as she considered his words. What did that mean? What did it matter that he was a blacksmith? Was there a part of the conversation she'd forgotten?
Beside her, Prince Mikhail stiffened. She looked up to see that his eyes were lit with a strange intensity and that he clenched his fist on the table.
"Here we go," Ilya murmured. "We finally test it. You were given your orders, and now you know where he is, but there's no one but me to protect the girl if you go... and she's in no state to travel-"
"What girl? What are you speaking of?" Talia demanded looking between the two men. "Do you mean me? Are you leaving?"
Neither of the men answered her. They continued to stare silently at one another. Ilya's face was deadly serious, and the Prince appeared to be in pain. He clenched his jaw as if trying not to scream. Even his fist was shaking slightly.
"Tell him not to go, Princess," Ilya ordered, still focused on the Prince.
Talia scoffed and folded her arms across her chest.
"Why should I?" she scowled. "I am not his keeper, he is mine. If he wants to go somewhere--"
"Tell him! Tell him you don't want him to go." Ilya demanded, raising his voice.
Talia snorted and deliberately lifted the lemon tart from her plate and took a large bite. She shrugged at Ilya and chewed in the most unconcerned way possible.
"I have to... " Prince Mikhail growled in a strained voice.
"Desperate times," Ilya said to himself, and then at last breaking eye contact with the Prince, he turned to face Talia and grinned at her. "You should at least congratulate our Prince before he goes. Did he tell you he is to be married soon?"
"M-married?" Talia repeated, turning slowly to face the Prince. The lemon pastry dropped from her hand. "You... are an engaged man?"
It felt as though she had been punched directly in the gut. The pleasant cloudy feeling in her brain immediately began to dissipate.
"No. I am not," Prince Mikhail answered quickly. "That is not true."
"Only because the Emperor hasn't made a formal announcement yet," Ilya argued.
"You have a fiancé," Talia said, and drew in a shaky breath. She shook her head. "You have a fiancé, and all this time... when you kissed me... and when you... That's why, this morning, when you thought I was speaking of marriage, you made that face! I get it now. I understand."
"No. You don't understand. Look at me!" Prince Mikhail ordered her.
Talia shook her head again and stared determinedly at the remnants of her broken lemon tart on the tablecloth. The Prince snatched her chin and forced her to stare directly into his eyes. "I am not engaged. I am not marrying anyone."
"He's not engaged yet, but he soon will be. It's the Duke of Bardie's daughter. She's staying at the court until it is announced," Ilya corrected him.
"Get out," the Prince hissed through his teeth at Ilya.
"How do you feel now?" Ilya asked excitedly. "Is it painful, or do you feel nothing at all? You don't have to leave. It's gone, isn't it, my Prince?"
"I.. I don't feel well," Talia interrupted, and tugged at the Prince's hand which still held her face firmly.
"We were right. She's-"
"I said GET OUT! I order it. I command it, by my word, LEAVE!" Prince Mikhail snarled at his aide.
Ilya's eyes grew hazy and unfocused.
"The Prince's word is my only will," he agreed and stood at once. He bowed before striding quickly from the room.
"It isn't true," Mikhail repeated, and his tone had an almost pleading quality to it. "I would never. I don't want marriage, not with a Duke's daughter. Not with anyone."
"Especially not with me," Talia said and giggled, though it sounded forced. "Your face this morning, you were so relieved when I said I didn't want to marry you. It was funny. It was really funny."
She laughed again, but even to her ear it sounded raw and fake.
"No. Especially not with you, because I would never condemn you to that. I want you to be free. I want to wait until the time is right... until I can find a way to-'
"Please, Mikhail. Please, I don't feel well. Let me go," she insisted, trying to pull herself free of the desperate hold he had on her face.
He dropped his hand at once and sat back, and Talia stood and went to the window, which was harder than she expected, as the ground seemed to tilt as she walked. She reached the window, stumbling the last few steps, and threw it open to the cold evening air.
Why did it hurt so much? Why did she feel so betrayed? She didn't expect anything from Prince Mikhail, the bloody right hand of the Emperor, the rabid wolf, the heartless conqueror of Vezda! She didn't want anything from him either!
"If you're going to leave, you should," she said calmly, refusing to turn around.
"I'm not going to leave. I don't have to now. You're upset and-"
"I'm not upset!" she said and scoffed. "It matters little to me what your plans for matrimony may be. It is not my concern."
She walked back to the table, yet somehow, she seemed to be walking sideways. She did not arrive at her own seat, but at Ilya's empty chair. No matter! She bent to pick up the wine glass.
"You've had enough for the evening," Mikhail said and reached for the glass. "You're drunk, Princess."
Talia stepped back to avoid his reach, but changed her mind and stood her ground instead. As the Prince leaned forward to take the glass from her, she scowled, and tossed the contents directly into his face.