Mikhail could count on one hand the number of times in his life he'd actually been taken by surprise.
When he'd finally left the Emperor's chambers and returned to his rooms, he'd done so in great haste, determined to take the dagger from the Princess as soon as possible.
It wasn't that he feared she would harm herself. Her life, once again, could be used to aid Vezda, and because of that, she would be cautious with it.
However, her focus on obtaining the dagger and the effort she had put into distracting him from realizing it suggested she had some sort of immediate use for it.
Therefore, he was worried, but not surprised to find the bedroom empty. He was relieved, but suspicious to discover her in the bath-- until he realized that she was hiding the dagger beneath the soapy water-- and when he finally went in after her, he knew full well that she was feigning weakness in yet another attempt to attack him.
Her kiss, however, was completely unexpected. The way she clung to him, pressing her small body against his own, her tongue passionately caressing his-- he was, for a moment, shocked.
He almost lost his footing in the bath, but the Princess did not seem to notice.
His mind, always working at a furious pace, always thinking ten steps ahead, always analyzing and full of doubts, emptied of all thoughts but one.
She wanted him. That small, beautiful, fierce creature who had filled his every waking thought, and only willingly sought his touch in his dreams, wanted him.
She didn't hate him. She wasn't disgusted by him. She was frightened by what she felt for him, she was...
She was kissing him!
Her hands slid behind his neck, tugging at him, trying to bring him closer still, and when she moaned against his lips, he lost all reason, and dropped to his knees in the water, still clasping her trembling body tightly.
Her bare skin was cold to the touch, and it was taking every bit of his self-control not to warm every inch of it with his mouth and hands-- to allow her to lead.
He broke away only when she tugged weakly at the neckline of his tunic, and only long enough to rip the heavy wet shirt over his head and toss it away.
She let out a shuddery breath at the feel of his skin against her own, and slid her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder for a moment, and gently kissing his neck.
He almost chuckled. She must have been cold. She was always cold, and several times before, he'd noticed the way her tense body would seem to go limp in relaxation against his own much warmer body.
But it was not only warmth she sought at that moment, and she reminded him with an impatient nip at the base of his neck.
She took his hand and guided it to her breast, crying out her approval when he squeezed it greedily, and when he moved his head to lick and suckle her there, she cried out even louder, grinding herself against him and clutching his shoulders so that he could feel her nails digging into his flesh.
Gods, but he was hard! Painfully hard, and simply touching her, holding her, squeezing her, tasting her... it was absolutely torturous.
He wanted to haul her up and out of the bath, lay her on the floor and take her over and over, releasing all the pent-up desire he'd felt and suppressed for her for years.
It was an instinct he would have to fight. She had no way of knowing what she was doing to him, and no understanding of how violent and greedy a man's lust could be.
No, he could not do that to her. Not yet. Not unless he knew for certain that he could control himself, that he could move slowly, gently, patiently.
Yet the way her nails scratched down his arms and across his shoulders as she writhed beneath his mouth taunted him, prodding him to nip roughly at her breast.
He could make her feel good at least. He could allow himself the pleasure of seeing her face flush and her body tremble as... as... he...
Something was wrong.
Mikhail froze, the instincts of a lifelong warrior who constantly walked the line between life and death, were seldom incorrect.
He had felt ill from the herb. He quite suddenly did not. His body felt curiously light, but his arms and shoulders were tingling in a strange way, and he noticed at that moment that the Princess's skin did not feel cold anymore.
He ran his hand across her bare back. She did not feel cold even where exposed only to the air. It meant that his body temperature was dropping, and quickly.
Grabbing her by her arms, he held her away from him.
"W-what have you done?" he murmured, his arms were itching now, stinging almost.
"What do you mean?" she replied evenly, but one look at her eyes was all he needed to know that she knew exactly what he spoke of.
He was a fool!
How stupid could he possibly be? She'd hidden a dagger and attempted to kill him only moments before!
He had only just secured the Emperor's permission to marry, saving her, for the moment, from the same fate as Queen Ora, but not even 15 minutes had passed and here she was, once again, destroying all of his hard work and careful plotting by killing him!
He wanted to shake her hard, but there were other more pressing concerns. Like, how she'd managed it. If she'd held the poison in her mouth, she might also be affected, and with her small form, she would succumb much quicker.
If only his arms didn't burn and itch like some small insect had burrowed beneath his skin and--
Mikhail snatched the Princess's wrist and bent it up to examine her hand, ignoring her pained gasp.
Her fingertips were stained with a strange yellowish green color. Dragging her to the side of the bath, he snatched up the rolled towel, and a small mortar bowl flew from it and smashed against the floor. The same yellowish green color clung to the shards in a paste like form.
"It won't kill you!" she insisted, attempting to twist her arm free of his grip. "It won't, I swear! I made it weak and I could only get a very little bit in with my nails. The dagger would have worked much- OW!"
Mikhail let go of her immediately, realizing that he was squeezing her arm too tightly.
The Princess backed away, eyeing him warily while rubbing her arm.
"What have you done?" he demanded, attempting to keep his voice calm and low.
"You wanted to be free of your blood bond. I can give you that... for a little while. It's a... a medicine of sorts. If you make a cut and apply it directly to a bonded person's blood, it allows them to speak the truth for a few hours," the Princess explained.
Mikhail shook his head slowly.
"You said... that my marks were different... that you didn't recognize... that you didn't know..." he muttered.
"That was true... your marks... the bond the Emperor made between you... it IS different. I don't know for sure that it will work, but-"
"You don't know? You poisoned me, and you don't even know what the effects will be?" he demanded.
Mikhail fell to his knees, and began to scrub at his arms and shoulders. Perhaps he could wash some of it out. Perhaps it-
"That isn't going to work," the Princess warned, "and you should get out of the bath while you can. If you pass out, you're too heavy for me to pull out myself."
"If I pass out?" he repeated, pausing to glare at her.
"You might, if it works the way it's supposed to," she said gravely.
"What do you mean by that?" he growled.
"In the old days, it was used to make people with a blood oath give up their secrets. For a little while, you won't feel the normal pain if you answer my questions with the truth. You'll be numb to it, but..." the Princess paused, considering her words carefully. She stood in the water with her shoulders hunched, hugging herself tightly, and he wasn't sure if she was trying to shield herself, or if she was cold, but he noticed a fresh smear of blood on her arm, just above her left hand.
"It doesn't really stop the pain, just... just delays it, and sometimes... rarely... when it wears off... the pain is so bad that..."
"That the person dies," he finished for her.
She nodded without looking at him.
Mikhail shook his head slowly again. This time, the room seemed to spin around him. He was cold.
"Why do I feel so dizzy and weak if it doesn't affect me until the poison wears off?" he asked.
"To keep your from being able to escape. It's supposed to immobilize you for a short time," she explained.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.
He was out of the water before she finished speaking. If he could get away from her then... but where, in the palace of the Emperor, could he go to wait out the poison in safety? His people had not yet arrived, and the court was full of his enemies.
Even if he somehow made it to Grieta's, he couldn't trust the woman not to take advantage of him in his weakness.
He heard the Princess getting out of the tub behind him, but didn't turn around. He needed dry clothes and quickly. The greenhouse in the eastern garden was usually deserted. He could go there and... and...
His legs were no longer working as they should. He had only taken a few steps into the bedroom, but now it felt as if he were trying to wade through a swamp, as if with each step forward, his foot sunk into heavy, sucking mud. Lifting his foot was taking too much strength.
Her cold small hands, slid beneath his arm, lifting it to set across her shoulders.
He tried to yank himself free of her, but for the first time, her hands were too strong.
She had wrapped a towel around herself, and when she pressed against his side to support him, her body felt very warm.
"It won't kill you," she soothed. "It's a very weak version of the original potion, and I won't ask very much."
She lead him to the bed, where he tried to sit, but his movements had already become too uncoordinated. He collapsed on it instead. Perhaps it would just make him sleep. His thoughts were disorganized and hazy anyhow. The tingling and burning sensation had gone from his arms and now he felt... relaxed, but it was a drugged sort of relaxed. A dangerous sort, like a drunken stupor where one might say anything.
She wouldn't ask too much, she had said.
"What do you mean... too much?" he mumbled. "Is it..."
"Yes, the more you say the more pain you'll feel later. Remember that and be brief if you can. I only need a few answers," she assured him.
He wanted to laugh. Nothing he could tell her would help her in any way. She couldn't fight the Emperor or free her country with any of that knowledge. Knowing the truth and not being bound to the Emperor would only get her killed.
"If I die, you have to find a woman named Grieta as soon as you can," he said quickly. "Ilya will know..."
He groaned. Ilya would die the moment he did.
"You won't die, I swear it," the Princess repeated, but her wide ocean eyes seemed too large, terrified almost. She didn't want him to die, and she wasn't sure that he wouldn't.
"What is it? What must you know so desperately that you're willing to possibly kill me for it?" he growled.
"Why did you poison me?" she asked quickly.
Mikhail did laugh at that. He had already told her the truth.
"Because the Emperor would have killed me to get his hands on you. It is just as I said. I did it to stop him from taking you as his wife," he sighed and closed his eyes. He did not tell her that the Emperor and the entire court now believed that she was pregnant with his child, but that... was not what she had asked.
"Queen Ora... my sister... what-"
"I killed my mother," he whispered quickly. "With my own hands I killed her."