Mikhail flinched like he had been struck in the chest, but even now, he was sparing with his words. His jaw worked silently as he considered what to say, before at last responding. “You have it wrong. I have no intention of abandoning our empire. I simply need to leave so that I can find allies.”

I hesitated. Although I didn’t understand this conflict, one thing remained abundantly clear to me. “Mikhail, these people need you.”

“Svet’s royal family supported my reign, Toma,” he said, looking from Vanya to me. “They can lend me their forces and put this insurrection to an end. To face the Fraktsiya alone would be the definition of suicide.”

“So, you’re fine with piling all your shit onto other people?” Vanya scoffed. “Running away with your tail between your legs like a beaten dog?”

“You don’t understand,” Mikhail snapped, curling his hands into fists. “Koschei is able to take bogatyri’s powers, and he stole mine!”

A flicker of shock raced across Vanya’s features. “What?”

“He’s a koldun.” Mikhail’s voice lost some of its force and became hesitant, almost haunted. “All he did was lay his hands on me, and it was like—it’s like decaying from the inside out.”

If Mikhail’s confession inspired any sympathy, it was fleeting. Vanya’s expression hardened once more, and he took a step forward.

“Is that so?” he growled.

“I can’t do anything, not the way I am now,” Mikhail said hollowly. “I’m powerless.”

“Vanya, the floor,” I whispered as another board split. Leaves sprouted on the branches growing from the hewn planks. I felt frozen. Nothing I could say would stop this. After all, until today I hadn’t been a part of their world.

“Ninety-nine percent of people are born without powers, but they still fight and die for the good of their country,” Vanya shouted. “Thousands of normal, ordinary people died fighting against the Groznaya Empire, while you were hiding in your castle, detached from it all. My father died, and there wasn’t even enough of him left to ship back in a hat box! What excuse do you have?”

The tension drained from Mikhail’s body, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He muttered something under his breath, too soft for me to hear.

“What did you say?” Vanya asked sharply.

“If I go back there, Koschei will kill me.”

“Don’t you think it is the greatest honor for a soldier to lay his life down for his country?”

“I’m not a soldier,” Mikhail said through clenched teeth.

“Personally, I believe that leaders should be held to the same standards they expect of the people they send into battle.” Vanya brushed a hand through his hair, his gaze flicking to the bronze and silver medals in a shadowbox on the wall. “Besides, if Koschei is a koldun like you say, then it’s a curse what he did to you. You won’t get your powers back by running away.”

Mikhail’s eyes narrowed. “You think I can get my powers back?”

“We have our own legends about witches,” Vanya said. “About how the only way to break a koldun’s curse is to repay it threefold. He took your throne, your magic, your birthright—so take them back the only way you can.”