Captain and a Corset (23 page)

***

Chains rattled for what must have been the hundredth time, the sound echoing through the lavish dining room. Sophia didn’t bother to look at Bion; she knew that he was restless and didn’t need to see his white knuckled fists to confirm how frustrated he was to be in chains.

You
don’t need to see it because you feel the same way.

That was a solid truth. Fate had an odd sense of humor at times because the frustration she had felt last night paled in comparison to what she felt now. Both her hands were clamped in shackles like Bion’s. On either side of them were guards, both men holding guns on them.

They stood in a hallway, just inside a doorway that was open to a dining room, kept back like servants waiting on the master’s whim. The room was lavishly furnished. A dining table with ornately carved legs was draped with a lace tablecloth. Its surface was set with fine bone china and silver flatware, which gleamed in the light. There were no candles in the room; the lamps used Deep Earth Crystals to produce light. Prince Afanasi seemed to enjoy Illuminist technology as much as he did pomp. The butler serving the table wore white gloves and a formal three-piece suit. His shoes shone and he made only the barest sounds as he waited on his master.

The Russian noble sat in a throne-like chair at the head of the table. His military uniform was covered in gold braids and there were numerous medals secured to it. Two servants stood beside him, their attention on his hands. All he had to do was lift a finger and they hurried to serve him. The man did not even pick up his own flatware. Instead, he lifted his hand and his butler placed it in his hand from a tray. The man never used soiled utensils.

Another servant passed by Bion and Sophia, her hands full with another dish to present to the master of the house. She curtsied the moment she stepped out of the hallway and twice more before offering the tart she held to Afanasi. Meanwhile, she and Bion stood waiting, their bellies empty while the scent of the meal being served made them even more aware of their hunger.

“We’re nothing but chattel to him.” She’d have been wiser to hold her tongue but couldn’t seem to keep silent.

“Exactly,” Bion spat softly. “Perhaps facing the reality of our circumstances will soften your judgment of my dedication to duty.” There was a note in his voice that surprised her. Somewhere past the frustration and stubborn devotion to honor was an undercurrent of injury.

“I wasn’t judging you, Bion.”

He pressed his lips into a firm line and peered at her over the rims of his purple-tinted glasses. The man was a fully dedicated to his duty, and she realized she would have him no other way.

“Then why did you turn your back on me?”

It was there again, the note of injury. Heat teased her cheeks but she maintained eye contact with him.

“Because I realized if I truly wanted to be your counterpart, I would have to shoulder the same duty you do. I did not like the feeling of knowing I might have to harm you or that I have belittled the burden you carried in the past by not realizing that I am considered a commodity beyond the walls of the Solitary Chamber.” His eyes were beginning to show the amber streaks now, the transformation continuing its course. “Or that I sentenced you to the same without asking you if you wanted it.”

“Sophia—”

“Who is talking and disturbing my dinner?” Afanasi pounded his fist on the table. One of his servants whispered in his ear and he snapped his head about to look at the opening that led to where they were being forced to wait upon his leisure.

The two men guarding them made a slashing motion with their hands, but Afanasi slapped the table again. “Well, bring them in, since they cannot maintain their place while I finish my meal.”

“You’ve done it now,” one of the guards threatened in a low tone as he prompted them forward with his pistol.

“Better to be done with waiting,” she insisted as she stepped into the dining room.

“I agree,” Bion said.

She looked toward him, suddenly fearing that it might be the last conversation they had. It wasn’t her own fate she feared but his. She felt as she had on the deck of the Soiled Dove, but now it was much stronger. It was no longer the simple desire to not see someone else harmed; this was a very personal emotion attached to Bion himself.

You’re in love with him.

She didn’t have time to argue with herself. The guards pushed her forward when she hesitated too long.

“The prince has called for you.”

The Russian nobleman was drumming his fingers on the table. Sophia stared at his fingers, astounded by his arrogance. She was sure she’d never seen anyone so spoiled—except for perhaps Captain Aetos. A chill traveled over her skin as she realized how similar the two men were, as well as the circumstances they had thrust upon her and Bion.

“Closer,” the prince insisted. “I need to see their eyes.”

The guard made to push her forward but Sophia stood fast. “I do not need your assistance.”

Afanasi frowned. “You were not given leave to speak in my presence and where is your curtsy?” He looked at Bion, his face turning red as Bion refused to bow.

One of the guards hit Bion on the head, but the man had made a grave error. Bion lifted his leg and sent an Asian back kick at the man. The guard went rolling as the pistol fired into the air. A chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling, making a dull thud as it landed on the polished wooden floor.

“Insufferable!” The prince hit the table several times like a child stomping his feet during a tantrum. “I am a prince!”

“Which is the same as an earl in my country,” Sophia informed him.

“And an earl may not put anyone in chains,” Bion finished with a snarl. “I am no serf.”

For a moment, Afanasi looked like he might choke, but he finally recovered himself and drew breath. “Here, on my land, you are what I say you are.”

Another chill shook her as she noticed just how subservient those waiting on the man were. They were all bowing, bent over and looking at the floor. She could feel the tension in the air as every last one of them tried to be invisible.

That fact told her everything she needed to know about Prince Afanasi. The man was a bully and an abusive lord. He ruled by fear and she would be foolish to not understand she was at his mercy.

“Did you enjoy watching your Solitary Chamber burn?” He smiled wickedly. “The czar distrusts those who keep secrets. I am sure to be rewarded for removing the blight from my land.”

“Your czar is making ready to go to war over the Ottoman question,” Bion spoke up. “He’ll have to promise the men who fight for him something and that something will be freedom. The days of serfdom are drawing to a close.”

Rather than growing angry, the prince smiled once more. “The future is very far away and very much out of your reach.” He stood up, the servant behind him hurrying to pull the chair out of his master’s way.

There was a flurry of footfalls as more guards entered the dining room. Bion looked around, taking in their number as Sophia did. Horror clogged her throat as she recognized a very familiar look in Bion’s eyes. She wasn’t sure the man knew how to bend. It was noble and honorable, but often, those traits were recalled by others long after a man ended up dead for upholding his duty.

That thought ripped a jagged path across her heart. She clamped her stinging retort behind her teeth.

“Now,” the prince continued, his tone restored to its full arrogance, “in spite of my czar’s dislike of your Order’s secrets, I myself find several things about you Illuminists very much to my advantage.”

The guards moved, rushing Bion and clamping him in their hold. Bion resisted, struggling against them. Sophia gasped when the guards behind her grabbed her. There were simply too many of them to struggle against for long and it simply wouldn’t gain them anything.

“You will be still,” Afanasi ordered Bion. “Or she will suffer the consequences.”

Sophia hissed, her temper flaring. Bion froze, only the rage burning in his eyes betraying his true feelings.

Now she’d seen the man bend and it brought her no happiness. Instead, she hurt even more to know she was his Achilles heel.

Afanasi grinned very much the way Grainger had. He stopped in front of her, cupping her chin and peering into her eyes. She shuddered, revolted by his touch. She strained against his hold on her, unable to master the urge. It was pure reaction.

The man moved on to Bion. His eyes gleamed and his lips curled back. Afanasi began to reach for his chin but stopped and only looked into Bion’s eyes.

“I understand Navigators are worth quite a bit.” The prince returned to his throne and took his time settling into it. Only when he waved his hand did his guards release them. Sophia rolled her shoulders, trying to erase the memory of their touch.

Bion merely cocked his head to one side. There was a loud pop from his neck as he sent a venomous glare toward Afanasi. “Return us to the Order and you’ll be rewarded.”

“I rather think you will fetch a far higher price on the black market.” Afanasi lifted his hand and his servant placed his goblet in it. “I’ve already spread the word of your presence here. Tomorrow night, I am having a gala ball, and after I have shown you both off, you will be auctioned to the highest bidder. Take them away.”

It felt like someone had kicked her in the chest. Drawing breath was impossible as she was dragged away. Bion snarled and she looked over her shoulder and saw that he was being dragged toward a different doorway. The separation was too much to bear. She struggled, finding strength she didn’t know she had and using it to fling the guard holding her arm away. Her chains rattled as the man tumbled to the floor, but his comrades rushed at her to fill the spot he’d occupied. Bion struggled as well, but he was pulled through the doorway and beyond her sight.

It was very possibly the last time she would ever see him.

Sophia wanted to cry. Her eyes stung with tears and even having her shackles removed didn’t grant her any relief.

Stop
acting
like
a
child. If you’re Bion’s counterpart, devise a plan of action.

A plan would require information. She lifted her head and blinked away her unshed tears. She needed to discover where she was. The guards had taken her to the upper floor of the grand house. The lavish ornamentation wasn’t confined to the dining room. The hallways were all afforded with gleaming wood flooring and the ceilings decorated with wood molding. The chamber she stood in had two parts. The outer room had couches and plush chairs for receiving visitors. There were glass-paned windows without a speck of dust on them and silk valances edged with tassel trim. Books lined one wall and even a phonograph sat on a side table. She couldn’t resist trailing her finger along the edge of its large sound funnel.

Had it only been months ago that she and her sisters had danced around after supper to the tunes played on the phonograph her father had bought them for Christmas?

“Would you like some music?” one of the maids asked. The women were so silent; Sophia hadn’t noticed that there were four of them standing in various places just to wait on her.

Sophia shook her head. The woman frowned and wrung her apron. The worry in her eyes was disturbing. To have someone fearing her displeasure did not suit Sophia.

“Perhaps I might bathe.”

The woman nodded, relief easing the tension on her face. She snapped her fingers at two younger maids who were standing near a closed doorway with their hands folded and their eyes downcast. They opened the doors, reveling a large bathtub. There was an old pump positioned near the tub to fill it with water.

One girl began to kindle a fire in the hearth that the tub was placed in front of. The other went to a large wardrobe and opened it. She pulled out a length of toweling and spread it on a warming rack. There was a jingle of keys as the maid who seemed to be in charge went to one of the drawers in the wardrobe and unlocked it. One of the younger girls was already behind her, waiting with a silver tray. The older woman placed a bar of soap on it and a silver brush.

There was a sizzle as a kettle was pushed over the fire. Orange flames crackled to life as one of the younger girls worked the pump to fill the tub with water.

They would certainly adore the Illuminist bathing facilities, but she doubted they would ever be allowed off the prince’s land. Sophia pitied them and suddenly realized just how much she had allowed herself to overlook while missing her family.

A year was a long time until her novitiate was complete and she could contact her family. But the year would end and she would have her adventures too. The transformation of her eyes was a most wonderful thing and it was time she appreciated it.

It’s time you figured out how to escape.

Or at least how to rejoin Bion. While the maids filled the tub and heated water, Sophia walked to the bedroom. A huge four-poster bed sat on a raised dais. Bed curtains were draped at each pole to be drawn once the occupant retired. She walked to the windows, which were open, but it was a sheer drop to the ground. Beyond the house, there was a huge green. White gazebos sat under trees and the entire estate was surrounded by a wall. It looked similar to the construction of the building that had been the Solitary Chamber. At the end of the main drive, there were two wide iron gates that were closed. Men sat nearby, clearly on duty to prevent uninvited guests from entering.

Or anyone tired of being Afanasi’s property from leaving. Well, she was going to be leaving…
somehow.

“Miss? Your bath is ready.”

Sophia turned and realized the woman waiting on her might be her best resource. They knew the house and she needed to be free of the house before she could ever make it past the gates. But first she needed to find a way to get to Bion.

Somehow…

***

“Brooding will not help.”

Bion grinned at the man laying out formal evening attire.

“Neither will trying to sweet-talk me into dressing up for your master’s little event.”

The man straightened his lapels for what must have been the tenth time. He looked rather exhausted, which was a vast improvement over the confidence he’d had when he first arrived with his staff.

Bion shook his head. The men waiting on him had no concept of freedom. It would be impossible for them to understand why he was not happy with his current circumstances. It was a sad reminder of why he was proud to be an Illuminist, the core reason why he was so dedicated to the Order. Now, with his new sight coming in, he had more reason than ever to remain steadfast in his thinking.

There would be no auction.

He liked the sound of that idea but not the feeling of uncertainty that followed it. The room he stood in was guarded and on the third floor of the house. Some of Afanasi’s men were patrolling the grounds beneath the windows and Bion still wore his shackles.

Difficult, but not impossible. At least that was what he was going to believe. Sophia deserved a better effort. She deserved a hell of a lot more than being sold. He would find a way.

“If you would please try on this coat, we shall see that it is fit to you for this evening’s gala.” The servant held out the coat, unknowingly offering Bion an opportunity.

“Someone will have to relieve me of these shackles first.”

The servant paled, lowering the coat as he worked his mouth without any words coming out.

Bion pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning on and shrugged. The lazy gesture seemed to put the servant at ease. “I haven’t worn decent clothing in too long.” Bion held out his wrists, the chains dangling from the manacles locked around them. “But my hands won’t fit with these chains on them.”

The servant sniffed. “Yes, that is clear. Of course.”

The man went to the double doors of the suite and opened them. The guards were still there and after a few muffled comments, one of them entered with a ring of keys.

Action, at last.

***

Decima was in a hurry. Her steps echoed in the hallway as she rushed toward him. He picked out the way her hand was crushing the piece of paper she’d retrieved from the telegraph office and her teeth were worrying her lower lip. From Guardian Hunter Talaska, the emotional reactions were a red flag. His muscles drew tighter because he’d already been unhappy about having to rely on her. But there were times when Decima’s gender produced more results than his. Just because the opposite was often also true, didn’t ease his frustration.

“They are set to be put on auction tomorrow morning.”

Lykos flinched.

“A Prince Afanasi has them and intends to hold an auction,” she explained. “What worries me the most is just who might be invited to the event, since our Order wasn’t.”

“At least we’ll get a look at the scum on this side of the planet,” Lykos remarked. “Because we will be attending.”

He wasn’t sure just how he was going to make that happen, but it wasn’t the first time he’d beaten the odds.

***

“The prince has been most generous.”

Sophia looked up from the book she was reading as the head maid returned. The woman still hadn’t introduced herself; that fact struck Sophia as sad because it was as if the woman didn’t think herself important enough to be called by her name.

The prince was a spoiled brat. Like someone from the Middle Ages who had been raised to believe that they ruled by divine right. Being born into a noble family line didn’t mean God had decided you were infallible.

You
sound
more
like
an
Illuminist
than
a
tailor’s daughter.

She smiled, pleased with herself as a line of maids filed into the chamber until six of them passed by. They practically marched and never looked at her or anything else. They kept their attention on the person in front of them as they delivered a small collection of boxes before turning about and leaving.

“Yes indeed,” the older maid continued. “The prince sent to the tailor for you and there is everything a lady should need for a ball.”

“What is your name?”

The woman drew herself up, considering her for a moment. “Yaneta, but you are leaving soon, so it really doesn’t matter.”

It would have been easy to become offended, but Sophia noticed the pity in Yaneta’s eyes. The maid clearly didn’t care for what the prince had in mind for Sophia but was powerless to intervene. A chill traveled through her, attempting to steal away her confidence. Sophia brutally ordered herself to maintain her composure. Bion’s stern orders came to mind, making her smile again as Yaneta began to open the packages and exclaim over their contents.

Like someone trying to distract a child—or dupe an innocent.

“A fine chemise. It will feel so nice against your skin, and there are three silk taffeta petticoats to hold out your skirt.”

All the better to ensure she sold at a high price. She might refuse—her pride would certainly like her to—but Sophia chewed on her lip as she considered her options.

An Illuminist Navigator always weighted the situation carefully. Bion certainly did.

And she was his counterpart.

“You will make a very pretty picture in this silk brocade; all the men will rush to fill up your dance card,” Yaneta cooed. “Many of the bidders will be attending; surely one of them will become smitten with you. That will not be so bad an arrangement.”

Sophia could not have disagreed more. But Yaneta’s prattling did bring to mind Bion and the fact that he was her lover.

“My heart could not bear it,” Sophia said, “for it belongs to Captain Donkova.”

“You shall have to forget him,” Yaneta cautioned sternly. “You will fall in love again, with the man who takes you away in the morning. You are young; a young heart can heal quickly.”

The expectation on the maid’s face made Sophia pity the woman once again. She finally understood what Bion had been trying to teach her about fates that were worse than death. The firm belief in Yaneta’s eyes that people could belong to others was sickening. It made Sophia’s stomach churn and her temper flare. But it also made her frantic to escape ending up like the woman, and for that, she needed Bion at her side. Together, they would succeed and she would never leave him behind.

“I suppose if I am to be parted from him, I shall refuse to feel guilty about taking him for my lover. But I shall have to hope I am not with child, for it would never know its father.”

Sophia looked down at the ruffle of one of the silk petticoats, but she was also watching Yaneta through her eyelashes. The maid didn’t look startled by her words. Instead, a gleam entered her eyes and a tiny smirk lifted the corners of her lips before she turned and opened another package.

So the woman was duly reporting Sophia’s every word back to the prince. Good. There was one thing Sophia might depend on and that was that the prince was a greedy man. Afanasi saw only her worth on the black market, so she would do her best to dangle the possibility of a third Navigator beneath his nose. It was a slim chance, but it was just possible that the prince might decide to double his odds by letting Bion spend another night with her.

Slim. Very slim. Yet it was better than nothing.

***

Russia might have been stuck in the past in some ways, but Prince Afanasi certainly knew a thing or two about hosting a gala ball. Yaneta and her staff set Sophia’s hair perfectly, crowning it with fresh flowers and ribbons. The silk brocade dress had an organ-pleated skirt that the silk petticoats held out flawlessly. The bodice had a deep point and a small waist that fit well once she was tightly laced into the corset. There were small pleats going from her shoulders to midchest and just the right amount of cleavage was on display.

“Your gentleman will be enthralled by you,” Yaneta cooed.

A maid set out a pair of sugar-heel shoes with a single strap over the top of her foot to keep the shoe in place while she danced. Sophia lifted the hem of her skirt and petticoats so she might fit her foot into one. It fit well, and the maid knelt down to fasten the strap.

The last thing Yaneta handed her was a set of long evening gloves. Once, Sophia wouldn’t have dreamed of stepping foot outside her home without a pair on her hands, but that seemed a long time ago.

She recalled enjoying the feeling of Bion’s skin against her own and a soft blush heated her cheeks. There was no shame in it now; instead, she enjoyed it as she turned and looked at her reflection. The dress was a summer-sky blue and it matched her eyes perfectly. In fact, it accentuated the amber streaks in her eyes. She picked up her glasses and set them in place, the light purple lenses something she enjoyed seeing on her face. Her lips curled up into a smile.

“The prince will be waiting.”

Yaneta held out a cream dance card. A silk ribbon dangled from one corner. Sophia slipped it onto her wrist and heard the double doors open. The two maids who stood on either side of them stared at the floor. It was a blunt reminder of how the prince viewed the world and everything in it—including herself. It might crush her confidence if she allowed it to, but she lifted her chin and strode through the open doors. Satisfaction filled her as she descended the grand staircase. Below, the house was lit by Illuminist lamps, the Deep Earth Crystals filling the room with a soft, golden light that didn’t offer any smoke to stain the ornately decorated ceiling.

The air smelled of flowers. There were greens and blossoms draped along the banisters of the staircase. Her petticoats rustled as she moved, drawing the attention of several men standing guard at the main doorway. They bowed to her and one extended his hand toward the back of the house. Sophia took a moment to look out the open front doors. Night had fallen and there were lanterns placed along the long driveway to welcome the arriving guests.