“You know the problem with heroes and saints, Nikolai?” I asked as I closed the book’s cover and headed for the door. “They always end up dead.”

CHAPTER 22

MAL AVOIDED ME all afternoon, so I was surprised when he showed up with Tamar to escort me to Nikolai’s birthday dinner. I’d assumed he’d get Tolya to take his place. Maybe he was making amends for missing his previous shift.

I’d given serious thought to not attending the dinner myself, but there didn’t seem to be much point. I couldn’t think of a likely excuse, and my absence would just offend the King and Queen.

I’d dressed in a light kefta made of shimmering panels of sheer gold silk. The bodice was set with sapphires of deep Summoner’s blue that matched the jewels in my hair.

Mal’s eyes flickered over me as I entered the common room, and it occurred to me that the colors would have suited Zoya better. Then I had to wonder at myself. Gorgeous as she might be, Zoya wasn’t the problem. Mal was leaving. I was letting him go. There was no one else to blame for the rift between us.

Dinner was held in one of the sumptuous dining rooms of the Grand Palace, a chamber known as the Eagle’s Nest for the massive frieze on its ceiling depicting the crowned double eagle, a scepter in one talon and a cluster of black arrows bound by red, blue, and purple ribbons in the other. Its feathers had been wrought in real gold, and I couldn’t help but think of the firebird.

The table was crowded with the highest-ranking generals of the First Army and their wives, as well as all the most prominent Lantsov uncles, aunts, and cousins. The Queen sat at one end of the table looking like a crumpled flower in pale rose silk. At the opposite end, Vasily sat next to the King, pretending not to notice as his father ogled an officer’s young wife. Nikolai held court at center table, with me beside him, his charm sparkling as always.

He’d asked that no ball be thrown in his honor. It didn’t seem fitting with so many refugees going hungry outside the city walls. But it was Belyanoch, and the King and Queen didn’t seem able to restrain themselves. The meal consisted of thirteen courses, including a whole suckling pig and a life-size gelatin mold cast in the shape of a fawn.

When the time came for gifts, Nikolai’s father presented him with an enormous egg glazed in pale blue. It opened to reveal an exquisite miniature ship set on a lapis sea. Sturmhond’s red dog banner flew from the ship’s mast, and its little cannon fired with a pop that released the tiniest puff of white smoke.

Throughout the meal, I listened to the conversation with one ear while I studied Mal. The King’s guards were placed at intervals along each wall. I knew Tamar stood somewhere behind me, but Mal was directly across from me, standing at rigid attention, hands behind his back, eyes straight ahead in the blank focus of all anonymous servants. It was like some kind of torture, watching him this way. We were just a few feet apart, but it felt like miles. And hadn’t that been the way of it since we’d come to Os Alta? There was a knot in my chest that seemed to grow tighter every time I glanced at him. He’d shaved and had his hair trimmed. His uniform was neatly pressed. He looked weary and distant, but he looked like Mal again.