The Firebird's Tale by Anya Ow

Author:Anya Ow [Ow, Anya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Less Than Three Press
Published: 2016-12-04T16:00:00+00:00

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According to her dossier, Elena was the daughter of the previous Mayor, a no-nonsense old man who had been appointed through unanimous vote and whose tenure had run unremarkably into the decades. Elena, on the other hand, was on her first term, and fissures were opening, perhaps. Carriages and fine horses already thronged the town hall’s courtyard by the time Aleksei arrived in the evening on Murom, with Vasily and Pyotr behind him and an all-too-curious Nazar by his side. Nazar had to be coaxed into dressing for the occasion. He had complained and squirmed and pleaded as he was forced into the high-necked white silk shirt with its cravat, the slim-fitting dove grey breeches that hugged his thighs to the high boots, and finally the heavy coat with the silver buttons, jet black but for pearls and pale white and blue gems, woven cunningly into the fabric, sprinkling upwards from the brocade hem. Nazar had finally stopped his complaining when he had admired himself before a mirror. “A coat of moonlight,” he had said, laughing. “Now I just need sunlight and furs.”

Arseny greeted them in the courtyard, severely wrapped up in layers of coats over his cassock, and he looked miserable and tired. He smiled when Nazar dismounted, though. “Ah, so you were dragged into this as well, Tsarevich.”

“I haven’t been to a party before,” Nazar declared brightly. “This is all very interesting.”

“Surely there was a party when you were wed…?”

“Oh, that,” Nazar said dismissively. “I don’t remember any of that. I was really only interested in getting to the bedr—”

“Nazar,” Aleksei cut in, shocked, even as Murom sniffed and, further away, a knot of merchants and their husbands and wives blinked at them and giggled nervously.

“My best beloved,” Nazar said, with a playfully outrageous wink, “since everyone is going to be jealous of me tonight, I might as well enjoy it.”

“It will be absolutely tedious, I assure you,” Arseny noted, amused, as Elena bustled out from the gathering crowd.

Elena had her wife in tow, a blushing, dark-haired beauty who averted her gaze and curtseyed limply when introduced to Nazar and Aleksei, though Aleksei noted that she did shoot a backward glance over at Nazar when, pleasantries over, she could retreat. She was unable to fully hide her curiosity, a sentiment common among the others: even Sofya stared hard at Nazar when she strode out to greet them. And why not? Nazar greeted everyone with brilliant smiles and open, seemingly genuine enthusiasm: even Sofya was moved to a faint, thin smile as he complimented her outrageously on the make of her sober ceremonial armour.

Drinks were served first, the crowd moving gratefully into the warmer depths of the town hall, its audience chamber cleared of pews to make a banquet hall. Elena had attached herself to Aleksei’s arm, an irritation that he could not shake off without appearing uncouth, and she was intent on introducing him to any-one remotely of significance. Nazar had somehow weaselled out of this by staying close to Sofya, of all people, and an increasingly morose Arseny, who was never one for socialising.

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