The Brilliance of Stars by J'nell Ciesielski

Author:J'nell Ciesielski
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2022-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

The Washington Post

February 1917

America Faces Break with Germany that May Draw This Nation into War

Notification of renewal today of illegal submarine warfare brings on an unexpected crisis.

Fifteen

Crimean Peninsula

February 1917

How appropriate for this to be the Tsar’s Path.

The woodland path was built for the privileged use of tsars and their glittering tsarinas nearly sixty years ago. They holidayed in the warmer climate at their summer retreat, Livadia Palace, where the therapeutic trail curved its way through the shadow of the Crimean Mountains with breathtaking views of the Black Sea far below the wind-buffeted crags and ended at Swallow’s Nest Castle. How many times must the grand duchesses and tsarevitch have splashed in those blue waters? Salt sticking to their skin and sun shining on their faces with no thought to royal decorum.

With Russia seething in cries for revolution, and hatred for the tsar burning like torched tinder, would the imperial family ever live in such luxurious escapism again? Likely not when Balaur had commandeered the compact castle for his own nefarious purposes.

A midday sun glazed the milky blue sky and washed out the Mediterranean colors of sand, scrub green, and sparkling water to a mild winter palette. Crouching on an overlook near the end of the path next to Jack, Ivy unbuttoned the top of her jacket and inhaled the fresh sea air. She’d opted for a hat with a small brim to shield her skin against the sun, but she’d not accounted for the bright reflections off the surrounding sand cliffs and felt the slight tenderness of exposure on her nose and cheeks. A far cry from the near frostbite of the previous week. If only more of their missions took them south.

Jack tapped the tip of her nose. “Getting sunburned.”

“Better than icicles dangling off.” She tipped her head so the brim blocked the cliffside glare. She wore a moss-green travel suit that allowed for movement of her legs should the need to kick or run arise, but she looked the perfect nonchalant tourist. Except that she carried a three-inch blade up her sleeve and a Beretta strapped to her leg with a garter.

“A rare day indeed when fifty-five degrees is considered pure tropics.”

He tilted his face to the sun. “I’ll take it any day. I’m just glad we escaped the twenty-degree weather of the frozen tundra.”

Leaving the rest of the team in a safe hiding spot farther back on the path, she and Jack crept away from the trail and down the hillside to the scrub of trees and scraggly brush overlooking the square castle. Swallow’s Nest Castle boasted a wraparound observation deck and three-story tower where four turrets perched on the corners. She’d heard that the average man could circle the large deck in under a minute if he were running. The castle itself was built on a hunk of rock that jutted out over the water like a ship’s bow or a forlorn lover awaiting her love’s return.

“Can this schwalbennest truly be where Balaur built his giant

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