“What about Vanya?” My voice echoed in my ears, small and tinny. It sounded as though it belonged to a stranger, perhaps the Tomochka who’d run from her mother’s screams, the one who had been weak. “He has—he has to come, too.”

“There’s no need for that,” Lieutenant Dronov said.

Vanya’s gaze clouded over. He hadn’t moved from beside me. His hands hung limply at his side, his expression empty.

“No,” Mikhail panted as a soldier dragged him to his feet. His legs buckled, and he would have fallen if not for the hands supporting him. “No.”

“We’ll tie him to a tree a little ways into the forest.” There was nothing behind Dronov’s smile. “If he tries hard enough, within thirty minutes or so, he should be able to escape.”

“We’re not going without Vanya.” I took a step toward Vanya and the two soldiers flanking him, but Ilyich seized me by the shoulders and yanked me back. Growling, I struggled to break free. “Let go of me. He’s coming with us. Let go!”

Vanya’s mouth wrenched into a smile, but his eyes were haunted. There was something ancient in his gaze, like he had watched this situation play out a thousand times before. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Vanya.” Mikhail’s breath hitched in pain. “They—”

“It was an honor, Tsar.” He turned, regarding me with polite indifference. “Duchess. Goodbye.”

Ilyich dragged me toward the wagon and hauled me into its bed. I landed hard on my side, twisted around, and struggled to sit up. Mikhail joined me moments later, grunting as he struck the grain sacks piled on the floor. The soldier hopped into the wagon and sat on a crate, holding his rifle in both hands. Lieutenant Dronov handed off the machete and the rest of the rope to one of the three men staying behind, then joined us in the wagon.

“Don’t even think about jumping out,” Dronov said, once the wagon began moving. He eased onto another crate, angled his rifle across his knees, and lightly nudged Mikhail’s side with the toe of his boot. “You royalty have fragile bones. I’d hate for you to break a leg.”

I wormed into a sitting position and leaned to the side, trying to see past the cart behind us. I could just barely make out Vanya and the three remaining soldiers standing at the tree line.

Vanya lifted his hand. It almost looked as though he was crying.

A queasy feeling settled in my stomach as the wagon rumbled farther down the road. His last words replayed in my head. Goodbye, goodbye. There had been something so final about that statement. Something permanent.

No. This couldn’t be farewell. It was too soon for that. We’d see each other again, wouldn’t we? We had to.

Back the way we came, the trees shuddered, their trembling barely visible against the indigo sky. But there was no wind. I watched in horror as the trunks swayed, accompanied by the groan of splintering wood.