The journey back to the palace was a blur. Andrei moved through the winding streets with his cloak pulled tight around him, the crisp night air biting at his skin. His mind was consumed with thoughts of Yelena—her defiance, her pain, the vulnerability she tried so desperately to hide. He couldn't shake the image of her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her voice trembling as she spoke of a past that haunted her.
When he finally arrived at the palace gates, the guards straightened to attention, their expressions stoic. Andrei gave them a curt nod, brushing past without a word. The sprawling halls of the royal residence felt suffocating now, the ornate chandeliers and gilded walls mocking him with their opulence. He ascended the grand staircase quickly, eager to retreat to the sanctuary of his chambers.
Inside, the room was dimly lit, the warm glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the polished wood floors. Andrei removed his cloak and tossed it onto a nearby chair, his mind still racing. He poured himself a glass of brandy from the crystal decanter on the side table, downing it in one gulp. The burn in his throat did little to dull the turmoil in his chest.
He sank into a chair by the window, gazing out at the city below. The palace offered a breathtaking view of St. Petersburg's skyline, the domes of cathedrals and the lights of the bustling streets stretching out into the distance. But tonight, the view felt empty.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Andrei frowned, glancing at the clock on the mantel. It was late—too late for any official business. He rose and crossed the room, opening the door to find his younger brother, Nikolai, standing in the hallway.
Nikolai was a stark contrast to Andrei. Where Andrei was tall and broad-shouldered, Nikolai was lean and wiry, with an impish grin that rarely left his face. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, but tonight, there was a seriousness in his expression that gave Andrei pause.
"May I come in?" Nikolai asked, his tone unusually subdued.
Andrei stepped aside, allowing his brother to enter. Nikolai closed the door behind him, his movements uncharacteristically cautious. He turned to face Andrei, his expression grave.
"You've been sneaking out again," Nikolai said, not as a question but as a statement of fact.
Andrei stiffened. "How do you know that?"
"I have my ways," Nikolai replied with a shrug. "You should be more careful, Andrei. Father's already suspicious. If he finds out you've been wandering the city, he won't be pleased."
Andrei clenched his jaw, the mention of their father stirring a familiar anger within him. "Let him be suspicious," he said. "I'm not a child. I don't need his permission to live my life."
Nikolai sighed, running a hand through his tousled blond hair. "This isn't about rebellion, Andrei. It's about safety. You have no idea how dangerous the city can be, especially for someone like you."
Andrei's gaze sharpened. "What do you mean, 'someone like me'?"
"Someone with enemies," Nikolai said bluntly. "You think everyone in this kingdom is loyal to the tsar? To our family? You'd be surprised how many would gladly see us fall. And if they find out the crown prince is sneaking around the slums at night, it'll only make their job easier."
Andrei's fists tightened at his sides. He didn't need Nikolai to remind him of the precarious nature of their position. But he couldn't bring himself to care about the politics and intrigue of the court, not when his thoughts were consumed with Yelena.
"I can handle myself," Andrei said, his voice firm. "I don't need your lectures, Nikolai."
Nikolai studied him for a moment, his expression softening. "This isn't just about you sneaking out, is it?" he said quietly. "There's someone you've been seeing. Someone in the city."
Andrei's eyes narrowed. "What makes you think that?"
"You've been distracted," Nikolai said with a faint smile. "Andrei, I've known you my whole life. You don't get this worked up over nothing. So, who is she?"
Andrei hesitated, debating whether to confide in his brother. Nikolai had always been perceptive, and despite his playful demeanor, he had a knack for keeping secrets. Finally, Andrei sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Her name is Yelena," he said. "She's... divine. Strong, fierce, there's something so beautiful and eerie about her, like the stillness before a storm—breathtaking, yet heavy with something you couldn't name"."I've never met anyone like her."
Nikolai's brows lifted in surprise. "And where did you meet this Yelena?"
"In the city," Andrei said. "She works in one of the taverns. She's had a hard life, Nikolai. But there's something about her... I can't explain it. I feel like I have to help her."
Nikolai's expression grew thoughtful. "Help her? Or save her?"
"I don't know," Andrei admitted, his voice heavy with frustration. "Maybe both."
Nikolai was silent for a moment, his gaze distant. Then he nodded, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, I'll give you this much—you've always had a taste for the dramatic. But be careful, Andrei. This isn't a game. If Father finds out, or worse, if the court finds out..."
Andrei cut him off with a sharp look. "I know the risks," he said. "But I'm not walking away from this. Not now."
Nikolai sighed again, but there was a note of admiration in his voice as he said, "You're stubborn, I'll give you that. Just promise me you'll be careful."
"I will," Andrei said, his tone resolute.
Nikolai nodded, clapping his brother on the shoulder. "Good. Now, try to get some sleep. You'll need your wits about you if you're going to keep playing this dangerous game."
Andrei watched as Nikolai left the room, his footsteps fading down the corridor. Alone again, Andrei returned to the window, staring out at the city lights. His brother's words lingered in his mind, but they did nothing to dampen his resolve.
He would find a way to help Yelena, no matter the cost. He just hoped he could do it before the shadows of his world closed in on them both.