In the seconds following the Princess's collapse, the tense court erupted into a sea of voices and movement.
The Emperor's guards rushed forward, while the Emperor himself stood and called for his servants. There were gasps, shouts, and accusations of poisoning.
Mikhail had not expected her to faint. He had hoped to see her tremble, turn pale, appear dizzy or weak, hopefully clutch at her stomach, or, at worst, vomit, or suddenly excuse herself. He had planned for the sort of symptoms that the older and more knowledgeable ladies of the court would recognize and whisper about.
Now, many members of the court were shouting about poison and assassination attempts, and worst of all, he could not go to her and take her safely away.
He glanced nervously toward the court entrance, hoping the physician he had sent for would realize the matter was urgent.
The Emperor's guards reached the Princess, and one of them bent to examine her. Mikhail's hands balled unconsciously into fists as the man reached toward her face.
"Breathing, your majesty," the guard called.
"Take her to her rooms and send for my personal physician at once!" the Emperor ordered.
Still dizzy and sickened himself, Mikhail stood and began to slowly back through the crowd. The guard handed his spear to his partner and lifted the Princess gently. He left the room trailed by several of the Emperor's servants. Mikhail made to follow, but was stopped by a servant wearing the Emperor's insignia on his robes.
"My Prince," the man said in hushed tones, "Your Emperor wishes to meet with you in private."
"Yes, of course. I will come to his rooms shortly. Please excuse for now I-"
"Forgive me, my Prince, but the Emperor insists that you go directly to his private office... now," the man said, stressing the final word with a meaningful look.
Mikhail gave a short, frustrated nod, and followed the servant from the court.
Upon reaching his brother's office, the moment he was alone, he leaned heavily against the back of a chair and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve.
The side effects of the herb were stronger than he remembered... or perhaps he had added too high a dosage to the wine. He wondered how painful it must have been for the Princess to have fainted and winced at the memory of her falling to the floor.
He had learned, long ago, to ignore the feeling of guilt. Guilt was a luxury meant for good people. It reminded them that they were capable of better things.
This time, however, the guilt took firm hold of him and refused to be shaken. He should have sent her away with Ilya as soon as they reached Bludston. He had made every excuse to keep her, convincing himself that it would be safer to wait, that he could not afford to lose Ilya, that he must first make contact with his allies...
Nothing but excuses. Lies he'd told himself to justify his desire simply to keep her near. As if his mother and Ilya had not both been firm lessons on what happened to anyone he tried to protect. The Emperor would not tolerate his dog showing loyalty to anyone but himself.
It was disgusting that even now, even knowing the danger she was in because of his selfishness, there was still a part of him that longed for her, that insisted he could be with her, that imagined an impossible fantasy life of waking every morning to see that small, beautiful, fiery creature sleeping peacefully beside him.
Mikhail shook his head bitterly. She was not as foolish as he was. The Princess would always suspect his motives. She would never trust him fully. Her heart belonged only to the Vezdan people.
Earlier, he'd felt there was something off about her. The way she had been angry and then friendly and teasing and then shy and embarrassed... quickly switching moods... peppering him with questions and then saying funny, endearing things and then again staring forlonly out the window-- it reminded him of when she was a child.
In fact... it was exactly like when she was a child. The way she had engaged him and confounded him with nothing but her words and innocent charm, and then he had later discovered that she had quite skillfully kept him distracted long enough to prevent him from walking into a trap!
She was distracting him!
He felt his stomach turn in a way that had nothing to do with the herb at the realization. What was she up to?
Mikhail lifted his head and froze in horror.
The dagger!
The dagger he had taken from her to cut the corset strings. He had meant to pick it up and store it away while she was in the bath, but had entirely forgotten. When he had returned to the room, it was not on the floor, and he had not noticed, because the Princess was there, staring at him with those beautiful ocean eyes and wearing nothing but his robe.
"Fuck," he growled.
The doors of the office burst open at that moment, and the Emperor entered with an angry look on his face.
"Out!" the Emperor snapped at his servant. "All of you, out and stand well away from the doors. See to it that only my physician is allowed to approach!"
Mikhail straightened and then bowed to his brother, who did not spare him a glance as he hurried across the floor to his desk.
"KNEEL!" the Emperor commanded as soon as the doors closed.
Without a word, Mikhail dropped to the floor on his knees. It would be best not to engage. To accept whatever the Emperor intended silently so he could return to the Princess as soon as possible.
"It was a fine show you put on for my subjects!" the Emperor snarled. "Did the two of you plan it together?"
"These days, the Princess is often dizzy and sick in the late afternoon. I sent a messenger with a request to move up her audience. You gave no reply," Mikhail reminded him.
The Emperor's face burned scarlet with rage.
"My personal physician tends to her at this very moment. He will determine whether or not the Princess is with child- and if she is not, you will both suffer the consequences of humiliating your Emperor!" he seethed.
"Humiliating? The Princess is ill-"
"And because of it, my people are whispering that I've had her poisoned! That I've tried to have her assassinated before the council arrives to hide my guilt! The Duke of Yevin's followers will use this to swell their ranks and accuse me of-"
"Then announce that the Princess is with child and the Empire has an heir. What matter if she is or not? I will take her as a wife and the wedding will serve as a distraction," Mikhail reasoned calmly.
The Emperor opened his mouth, and then closed it again. The answer was obvious, even unspoken. His brother had, in deed, planned to marry the Princess himself and pass the child off as his own. Now that the court had seen her arrive dizzy and gripping her stomach, when her pregnancy was announced, everyone would know whose child it truly was.
"I... I had planned to marry you to the Duke of Bardie's daughter. The dowry offered was... well... I did not want to... to lose such an opportunity," the Emperor said slowly. It was a poor excuse for his anger, and they both knew it.
"You may still do so. The Duke of Bardie has long been an ally of our family. Surely, he will understand if the marriage is delayed for a year," Mikhail frowned as if confused.
The Emperor, still silent, stared down at him as if he were trying read the thoughts behind Mikhail's eyes.
Mikhail tensed in anticipation, he knew what was coming.
"Prince Mikhail of Unaria, hear these my words and command," the Emperor intoned. "You will confess to me now what you hope to achieve in marrying the Princess of Vezda."
The familiar pain gripped him, driving away all lingering effects of the herb as agonizing waves of torment washed through him.
"Nothing!" he groaned through clenched teeth.
"Then why? You have never shown any interest in marriage before. What is the motive?"
"I want her!" he answered quickly. The pain receded entirely at his words.
"Want her?" the Emperor frowned as though displeased. "For what purpose? Her allies? Her blood?"
"No. I want her. I want to have her. She... she is beautiful," Mikhail said, wincing.
"Many women are beautiful. That is no reason! I order you to tell me the truth!" The Emperor growled.
Another swell of pain swept through him, causing him to double over. That horrible and selfish voice was screaming in his head... I love her! I love her! Deliriously excited at having at last been set free to say the truth. He wanted to say it... he wanted to scream it in the Emperor's face. That even though his brother had killed or maimed every single person he'd ever loved, that still, he was able to feel that emotion. That he was, unlike Grigori, fully human.
"I... I... don't want anyone else... to... to... have her," Mikhail faltered, speaking through the pain. It was as far from the truth as he could go and still speak.
The Emperor continued to stare at him. By the look on his face, his brother was not fully convinced. The man was so suspicious of betrayal that even the krovbond was not enough to appease him.
"If I discover that you--"
A knock at the door interrupted the Emperor's threat.
"Enter!" the Emperor shouted.
Mikhail almost collapsed from relief as the Emperor's command was broken.
The doors opened to admit the Emperor's physician. The elderly man took a few steps inside and kneeled before his ruler.
"Well?" the Emperor snapped.
"I have examined the Princess of Vezda. Her pulse..."
"Is she with child?" The Emperor demanded impatiently.
"It is difficult to be entirely certain, your majesty. It is still very early, but yes, the signs are there. I believe the Princess of Vezda is... with child."