The Ranger of Marzanna (The Goddess War #1) - Jon Skovron Page 0,170
some leering, unwashed peasant flattered her outrageously. It was so demeaning, it made Galina feel ill just watching her.
If Galina was being honest with herself, perhaps some of her unpleasant mood lingered from earlier in the day. She had not expected it to be so hard to turn Sebastian away. The look of hurt in his eyes when he’d learned the truth had stabbed her as deeply as any blade. Then the scathing words Lady Portinari had delivered as she left had driven the hurt even deeper.
Galina had cared for Sebastian in the beginning. That much she was certain of. She had been duplicitous, it was true, but he had betrayed her first by becoming a pandering, imperial sycophant who relied upon everyone around him for his moral compass. Or perhaps it had been a doomed match from the start. Whenever she considered the picture as a whole, that was the conclusion she reached time and again.
Then why did it hurt so very much?
“Excuse me, Galina Odoyevtseva. May I join you?”
Galina glanced up to see the Aureumian deserter, Angelo Lorecchio.
“If you wish.” She couldn’t decide if his company was more or less preferable to solitude.
“I suppose this isn’t really your sort of party,” Angelo suggested dryly. “Nor your people.”
“Not really, no.”
He nodded. “Well, it was very generous of you to aid them, then.”
“I did it for all Izmoroz, Mr. Lorecchio, not just these peasants. The nobility were suffering under the empire as well. We had become mere figureheads, without any real power of our own. The sheer hopelessness of it all was crushing my father’s soul. I certainly couldn’t just stand by and watch.”
Angelo nodded thoughtfully. “Political transitions are always difficult and unpredictable. I should know, I’ve seen a few. Have you considered what should happen next?”
“The nobility will form a new council and rule Izmoroz jointly, just as they did before the empire came.”
“Oh dear.” Angelo gave her a pained expression.
“You have some concerns?”
“Well, it’s… not really any of my business…”
Galina sighed. “It’s been a long day, Mr. Lorecchio. Please don’t vex me further. If you have something to say, then say it.”
“I fear that Sonya has altogether different plans for the future government of Izmoroz.”
“Oh?”
“Just before you arrived at the tavern in Kamen, she told us, and I quote, ‘After we get rid of the empire, getting rid of the nobility is next on my list.’”
Galina did not react outwardly, but deep in her stomach, she felt something drop into place. She looked over at Sonya Turgenev, who despite her noble blood was lurching drunkenly up the stairs with her Uaine barbarian in tow, most certainly about to indulge in some premarital intercourse. The commoners around them not only knew this, but were cheering as the two climbed the steps. Once they reached the top, she even had the brazenness to blow them all a kiss, which sent them into a renewed frenzy of cheers and drinking. Yes, Galina could not say she was entirely surprised by this revelation.
“I see,” she said at last. “Well, I thank you for this information, Mr. Lorecchio. I hope you will continue to keep me apprised of the situation. And rest assured, if there’s anything I can do for you in return, I will be only too glad to help.”
The two beings met in a part of the forest where no human had ever tread. They did not so much appear, as reveal that they had always been there.
An animal observed them as they sat together on an old log. The animal could not easily distinguish one human from another, but these were clearly not humans. They were, in fact, something the animal had never seen before, and yet they felt familiar somehow.
“You’ve been quite busy of late, sibling,” said the one who had hair as red as blood and smelled like iron.
“Certainly,” said the one who had hair as black as midnight and smelled of lilies. “You didn’t think I’d let you get your own way forever, did you?”
“Well, I hoped not. That would be terribly dull. But was this all you have in store?”
“Fear not, my dear sibling. This was but the opening sally of a much larger effort.”
“I am always so entertained by your jests. But do so many mortals have to die every time?”
“Just as the fate of all snow is to melt,” said the black-haired one, “the fate of all mortals is to die.”