“And what of the civilian casualties in the Edge?” Vanya asked the moment the bogatyr paused to refill his wineglass.

The colonel’s gaze shifted to him, and his expression hardened. “Excuse me? Did you just interrupt—”

Mikhail raised two fingers, and the colonel’s mouth snapped shut. Leaning forward in his seat, he gazed unflinchingly at the bogatyr. “Is it true that your men have been targeting civilians?”

“That...” The colonel cleared his throat and took a hasty sip of wine. “I don’t know where you heard that from, Tsar, but let me assure you—every drop of blood we spill is for the glory of the motherland. Sometimes, innocent people get in the way. The Fraktsiya uses them as shields.”

“I want full reports of any skirmishes that have resulted in significant civilian casualties, regardless of which side is to blame.”

Colonel Fyodorov choked on his wine. “With all due respect, Your Highness, there are hundreds.”

“We also want reports on how many people have been accused of being kolduny,” I added, getting ahead of myself, and the colonel nearly sprayed his mouthful of wine in my face. He stared at me, beads of red wine gathering in his mustache, looking so confused I almost felt bad for him.

Mikhail nodded. “She’s right. Compile an audit of the Tribunal’s investigations and executions in the months since the uprising, along with any and all acts of citizens taking judgment into their own hands.”

“Colonel, I’ll reach out to our troops and auxiliaries and have them compile a list of incidents,” Staff Captain Lokteva said crisply, and turned to Mikhail. Even with her powers stifled, her skin still seemed to gleam in the dim lighting, her nails darkly metallic as she traced her fingertips over the edge of the desk. “Would Your Highness also like the reports documenting atrocities committed by the Fraktsiya?”

“Yes, I would.” Now that he was back in his own element, Mikhail’s entire demeanor had changed. He no longer approached conversations as if expecting confrontation, instead responding calmly and decisively to every remark and question.

“Is there anything else you would like us to prepare?” the colonel asked.

“Yes, one more thing, actually,” Mikhail said, and the colonel stiffened as though preparing for a blow. He turned to me with a smile. “Arrange for travel to the Edge. I believe my friend Toma and her sister are looking to return home.”

44

Outside the dirigible’s window, a steppe of fluffy white clouds stretched to the horizon. I pressed my fingertips against the glass, peering between the gaps in the cloud cover in hope of recognizing the layout of the land below.

Galina stretched out on the bench’s wooden slats and fell asleep with her head in my lap. I ran my fingers through her thick chestnut hair, stroking it out of her eyes, which flicked beneath their closed lids. If she suffered from unpleasant dreams, she did so silently, her features as calm and peaceful as the sky surrounding us. This high above the clouds, it was difficult to believe that the empire was still engulfed in a civil war.