Rasputina and the Witch's Tsar

Chapter Thirty-Five

 "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Look who it is. Enjoying your turn as a barmaid?" I turn upwards, a telltale smirk coming to my lips before I stifle it. I clasp Kaskil into a hug before he sits down with me beside the table.

"It's been a long time, my friend." Kas pulls at his sleeves, tugging them low even as the shirt falls low below his collar.

"For you and me both."

His eyes search mine, perhaps trying to see the barren, cold wasteland of my time in exile trapped somewhere behind my gaze. "I'm sure it was. How goes?"

I reach for the drinks lowered at the table. "You've made out better than me. You're on track for managing the tavern alongside your cousin, no?"

He raises his left hand, flashing a ring. "People trust a married man. I even made a couple friends who work at the palace. Snow falls, but the wind reaches all parts of St. Petersburg."

Snow falls. Events go on, but the wind, gossip that is, continues to reach Kaskil's ears. From mere servant to tavern owner slash spymaster. What times we live in.

"And the fire?"

Kaskil shakes his head. "It spreads. I've heard talk of the winter being unusually hot this year." The fire. The Great War that spreads across Europe, the one that breaks the back of the world. The winter, shorthand for the Winter Palace. The throne wants to join the war.

"I've seen how the winter burns. It burns at the cost of many. So many with glassy eyes. The winter should remain cold, but I have no power here."

"The Pharisees are on a witch hunt." Kaskil insists, eyes boring into mine. Pharisees, those must be the Holy Synod. They've grumbled about me as a heretic for a while now. But a witch? How dare they stoop so low. "And witch hunters bring dogs with jeweled collars."

Dogs, what a fitting description for the Duke and Prince Yusupov.

"Witches shouldn't fear mangy curs."

"Not even when they build a stake?" Kaskil leans closer. "I don't know how much help I can be against an army. And Ursula..."

"What? Spit it out, Kaskil."

Kaskil lowers his eyes, a blush creeping over his cheeks. "I am going to be a father."

I wish, desperately, this was another part of the code. Kaskil and Ursula are going to become parents. I...

I cannot drag them further into this.

"A witch goes alone. It is too dangerous for fathers and children."

"But..." Kas gets up as I do, his hand on my shoulder. "Nothing good happens to those who enter winter alone."

"You said it yourself, Kas." I grin at that. "I have the stake to keep me warm, no?"

"Maria..."

"We'll see each other again. Living or dead, we'll see each other."

I do not turn back as I walk out the tavern. I might as well have died in exile. I'd be no less alone.