Burning Glass (Burning Glass, #1)(106)
I contemplated him, his fine clothes, perfectly groomed mustache, and the amethyst ring—perhaps a family heirloom. No doubt he had a good heart: he’d married for love, joined the revolution, played a role in trying to sway other nobles to the notion of equality. But how much of Nicolai’s good heart was really in it? I hadn’t forgotten how eager he was at the prospect of dancing with me at the ball—strange for a devoutly married man. And he didn’t attempt to back Anton at their last council meeting. I feared how long he would be able to lend his support at all.
Despite everything he’d said, I suspected the root of his fear was cowardice, his unwillingness to risk his own life above his consideration for anyone else’s.
“I’m sorry for your difficult circumstances,” I replied. “The good aspect of your secret marriage, however, is that if you are compromised, your wife and child won’t be endangered by association. My friend, Pia, didn’t have that same luxury.” I managed a thin smile. As an Auraseer, I often had no trouble finding empathy for another. Perhaps I was becoming heartless because I could find none for Nicolai. “So, you see, you and I are equal, after all. Our own lives are what we fundamentally risk.”
He blinked at me. His shame made my insides clench.
“Now”—I faced Anton—“I believe we are ready to hear why you have summoned us.”
The prince gave me a look of gratitude. His energy was still deeply troubled, but I felt him holding himself together to show a brave face for Nicolai, and perhaps even me. With a steadying breath, he said, “Feliks no longer supports me in a peaceable revolution. He was with Tosya at his arrest. Since then, Feliks has rallied his web of followers to spread word that the ‘Voice of Freedom’ is to be silenced by execution—and at the emperor’s hands.”
“But there will be a trial,” I interjected. “Did you tell him that?”
“He doesn’t care about a trial. I don’t believe he even cares if Tosya dies. The people will have no reserve in taking up arms against my brother after an execution.” Anton shook his head. “I didn’t realize how perilous things had become. I enlisted Feliks to spread Tosya’s philosophy, but he has done more—he has stoked the people’s desperation into hate. They are coiled now, their forces gathered and ready to strike. All they needed was a catalyst. The lowered draft age didn’t help, but Tosya’s imprisonment—that was the fatal blow.”
Nicolai’s aura lost all its color. It leeched me of my spirit and left only the pale ash of dread. “Speak plainly, Anton,” the count said. “What does this mean for us?” For me, he might have asked. “What is happening?”
Anton’s broad shoulders expanded, as if fortifying himself against the weight of every soul in Riaznin. “The revolution has gone public. They are coming.”
“The people are coming?” Nicolai gasped. “They will march on the palace?”
“Tomorrow at noonday,” the prince added grimly.
Nicolai laughed, though it didn’t bring a smile to his face. “They’ll never stand a chance!” He templed his fingers at the bridge of his nose, then dragged them across his face. “The emperor has a walled fortress here, countless guards with firearms. It will be slaughter! We will surely be compromised.”
“Nicolai, I need you now. Do not falter.” Anton gripped his friend’s arms. “What is done cannot be undone. We must hold together. . . .”
The prince’s words seemed to fade until I was deaf to them. The only sound was the thundering of my heart. I envisioned the mob of peasants at the convent’s gates—the mob I’d become one with in their single-minded fury. Surely the revolutionaries approaching tomorrow would be far more numerous, far more impassioned. How would I restrain myself from doing something violent along with them?
A warm hand touched my back. “Are you all right, Sonya?” Anton murmured.
I sharply inhaled as I fought to collect myself and scatter the waking nightmare from my mind. “Yes.”
His hand slid up to my shoulder and squeezed it before he turned to Nicolai. “How many nobles will stand with us?”
The count gasped with amazement. “You intend to fight with them?”
I whirled on Anton, my eyes rounded, my dread giving way to surprise. Would he fight? I didn’t believe it possible.
“We still have hope of preventing bloodshed,” the prince replied. “If Valko abdicates, no lives will be lost.” His gaze riveted to mine, and I swallowed, knowing what he saw in me. I was the hope he spoke of, the last means of attaining his dream for freedom and peace.
The count watched us, but I didn’t sense Anton’s faith spread to him. Nicolai only reflected my own lack of confidence. There could be no drawn-out persuasion with the emperor now. I had one day to make Valko see that the fate of the people was better entrusted in their own hands, when they were anything but trustworthy right now. And I had to do it before they marched here and made my task even more impossible.
“If everything goes as planned,” Anton continued, “the emperor will call off the battle and give the government to the people. But I want all people represented. I need to know how many nobles are on our side. We can’t risk a civil war.”
“There aren’t many.” Nicolai gave a shrug of apology. “There hasn’t been enough time to convince them—and this wasn’t what I promised. They agreed to stand in support of some rights for the peasants and serfs, not to be stripped of their own lands and titles, which will surely happen if the people take the government so quickly. It will be chaos, Anton. There has to be a better way. If this is what we have to offer the nobility, I’m afraid you will be standing alone.”