The new year was approaching rapidly. The first time New Year's Eve had come around, Alex had been distraught. It was almost comical how upset he had gotten at the days leading up to the holiday. Knots had formed in his stomach and his face turned so white that the General wondered whether he should arrange for a doctor's appointment. In the end it hadn't come to medical intervention, but his overall demeanor had been so concerning that Sarov ordered his schedule for the week to be changed to allow for more leisure and less schoolwork. The General had simply chalked up the anxiety to too much academic pressure and left it at that. This had all occurred last year, however, and now it was going to be different. This New Year's would mark the second year spent in captivity with Sarov.
It hadn't been all bad, not really. Living with the current, undisputed ruler of Russia came with a few perks. Alex never went to bed hungry. The manor was always warm and there was always a quiet place to go to if he needed some personal reading time. Of course, he was usually accompanied by a guard-several guards, actually-and the books were screened for anything Sarov may have found scheming or distasteful, but all in all, he had it good. Alex wasn't stuck in the situation so many others had found themselves in when everything had gone to hell.
He would remind himself of that later on, when Sarov took him to the New Year's supper hosted by one of his acquaintances. It was supposed to be an event attended by all the powerful, wealthy Russian men and their mindless, attractive children. Alex and The General certainly met the criteria to warrant such an invitation. The man had become practically unstoppable since he took over the Russian government whereas Alex had been dolled up to look the part of the favored son. His face was framed with stylish, tousled curls and he was dressed in handsomely tailored clothes. Alex's schedule was busy and his curriculum was interesting, but he never let himself fully appreciate the life of a leader's son. It felt wrong to do so, after everything thousands of people had suffered. Nonetheless, he had become used to the day-to-day happenings at General Sarov's home and he ended up settling into a more comfortable role than he had been given by M16.
Still a tad groggy from sleep, Alex dragged himself from the warmth of his bed and made his way to the bathroom. He took off his soft pajamas and let them pool into a pile at his feet before turning to look in a mirror. Alex had looked better. His bedtime was nine o'clock, but once in a while Alex could get away with an hour of reading or radio listening. He had stayed up until ten thirty poring over the latest novel from one of the newer Russian authors. The story had been excellent, but the skipped bedtime had given Alex light bags under his eyes, bags that would surely be noticed by his father at breakfast.
Alex turned away from the mirror and stepped inside the bathtub. Hot water rained down from the shower head and over his body. He took fifteen minutes to scrub under his arms and brush his teeth. Alex stopped the water and got out of the tub, wrapping a white towel around his waist. He dried off in the middle of his room before selecting his outfit for the day. Alex's wardrobe was well stocked with a variety of clothes. He had everything from jeans and t-shirts to form-fitting suits. Had Alex gotten his way, he would have downgraded his attire to the essentials. Sarov, on the other hand, insisted on providing his son with all the articles of clothing he could buy. Alex saw it as an ostentatious display of money, but at the same time, he knew the man just wanted to spoil him rotten. Alex dressed himself in casual attire and descended his way to the dining room where the morning meal would be held.
Sarov was already seated. A folded newspaper was lying on the table in front of him. A soldier hovered next to him as he signed a few papers. After giving the papers a final look, Sarov handed them to the man and waved him away. He made a disappointed noise when Alex sat down. "You did not get a full night's sleep," he noted as the servants came out from the kitchens to begin serving breakfast.
"No," Alex admitted. "I was reading." A woman set down a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice before him. His eyes watched the ice bop to the top.
"It is good to read, but you should not disobey your father, Alex." Sarov motioned for the juice to be poured and a servant rushed to do his bidding.
"I know," Alex said. He may have uttered a curt remark under his breath a long time ago, but things were different now. Likewise, Sarov may have responded with threats of corporal punishment (it had been the alternative to whippings), but as Alex became less unruly, the warnings had disappeared.
Alex quietly ate his porridge while Sarov unfolded the newspaper. He guessed that one of the documents contained his schedule for the day. After breakfast, Sarov usually summoned a guard and gave him a copy. Alex would then be escorted to the study, where his school materials and composition books were located, and be sat down to begin the lesson of the day. He had two tutors, a young man and a gray-haired woman, but sometimes Sarov would come by to see how he was doing. The General also took an hour out of his day to personally teach Alex a subject, often history or Russian literature. He would then pass off the lesson to one of the tutors, but not before ruffling Alex's hair and telling him he would see him at dinner.
"I cut your lessons in half today," Sarov said. "We are going to get a new suit instead. The other ones are too old and I want you to look presentable at the New Year's dinner."
Alex looked up from his porridge. "Are we going to go again?"
"Of course. Why? You don't want to go?"
"I don't have anyone to talk to there," Alex murmured. "It's just going to be other politicians."
The General considered this for a minute. "You are not a very social boy, Alex. I admit that perhaps keeping you at home with schoolwork didn't help, but you don't converse much."
Alex said nothing and went back to eating his porridge.
"I have a few friends that will be there," Sarov continued. "Mostly men from my military days, and their sons. I shall arrange for them to meet you during the dinner. I know their boys and they are similar in age. You may speak with them as much as you please, but I expect you to be on your best behavior just like last year. Now, finish up your porridge so you can get to your studies."
The General entered the study while Alex was putting away his textbook. It was around one o'clock in the afternoon. His tutor, the young one named Ivan, stopped mid-sentence and greeted him.
"I hope I am not interrupting," Sarov said.
"No," Ivan said. "We were just finishing up, sir. He is progressing steadily in his science lessons."
"That's good. Did he have any trouble today?"
"He was a bit confused about his math problems, but I made sure to go over the method again," Ivan replied. "He completed his worksheets in a timely fashion, so I am satisfied with that. We will pick up math and science again on Friday."
"All right," Sarov said. "Put your things away, Alex. That's all for today."
Alex obeyed. "Are we going to get the suit now?"
"Yes. Come along."
Alex hadn't been to a mall since his Sarov stole him. When he was in need of new clothes, Sarov would take him to a tailor's and he would be measured for things. His father was a well-known man and there was no need to publicize their daily trips. It was a funny sight. Alex would be poked and prodded by the tailor as Sarov and an armed guard looked on nonchalantly.
The General opened the car door and gestured for Alex to step in. They sat in silence for a while as the driver took them to their destination. When he had first brought Alex to get fitted for clothes, the boy had tried to make out their surroundings. The manor was somewhere in the countryside. It was a huge, magnificent structure patrolled by guards at every corner. Alex sometimes hung around outside, reading on the grass or enjoying the light breeze. He knew, based off the multiple drives he had undertaken, that there were small houses and businesses further away from the manor, which meant they were close enough to go to the town. Sarov once caught him gazing out the car window wistfully and commented that, with enough time and trust, Alex would be allowed to venture there. It was going on two years and he hadn't been to town once, although Alex supposed that he could ask for a trip as a birthday present. Not that he longed to be anywhere but the manor anymore. Alex had given up looking through the darkly tinted car windows and hoping to catch someone's eye.
"I spoke with an old army friend of mine today while you were having your lessons," Sarov spoke up. "He is in the process of moving to our area. He will be attending the dinner with his son. The boy is sixteen, same as you."
"Will he be sitting at our table?" Alex asked.
"I want you to have companions. You're a growing boy and there will be things you need to discuss with other boys, not your father," Sarov said. There was a small pause before he spoke again. "In two more years, you will turn eighteen. I cannot keep you a small child forever." What did he mean? It sounded more like Sarov was talking to himself rather than Alex.
"Whatever you say, Father."
Sarov smiled at that. "I wonder what M16 would have done with you at that age? They never looked to the future. Had you been taken away from me, you would have remained a hapless spy forever. With me, you are becoming an educated, intelligent young man. Anyways, I don't think it wise to baby you. I am considering bigger things for you."
"What kind of things?" This caught his attention. Was Sarov going to force him to join the military? Was he going to work for him?
The General noticed his worry. "Calm down, Alex. I was simply thinking about allowing you to attend university."
Allowing him. How generous. Alex breathed out a sigh of relief. Still, it was much better than being forced to become a soldier for Russia or a direct accomplice to Sarov's crimes.
"It would make no sense to keep you cooped up in the manor. A higher education would benefit you immensely and as the son of the leader of Russia, you should aspire to loftier goals."
"Can I apply to study outside of Russia?"
"That eager to get away from your papa, hmm?" Sarov chuckled. "No, boy, you're staying right here. Whatever university you go to, you will be accompanied by my guards. You may choose to get multiple degrees or a doctorate, it is all up to you. Of course, you should think about a career as well. Securing a job won't be a problem for you. Whether you become a doctor or a writer, I will always provide for you."
Alex said nothing to that. He hadn't said it outright, but Alex knew he would never have complete freedom in his life. He may be permitted to earn as many degrees as he liked or buy his own home, but he would always be monitored by Sarov's cronies. How long would that continue? He was sixteen now, but what would his life look like at thirty or forty? Surely Sarov didn't believe he would have Alex in his clutches forever? Alex knew escape was futile. Even if he could find a way to leave, there was no safe place for him to go. Multiple leaders bowed down to Sarov and many agencies tip-toed around the man. Alex had no doubt M16 was one of them. He never knew what had happened to Jack or the others, but he guessed that they had no power to resist Sarov or even reach out to him.
"We are here, sir," the driver said in Russian. The car paused outside the tailor's shop and a guard got out. He opened the door for them and they exited the vehicle. The tailor greeted them warmly and led them to the upper floor.
"What will the younger Sarov be needing today?" The tailor escorted Alex to the middle of the room and motioned for an assistant to take down his measurements.
"He needs a formal suit," Sarov answered. "He has some at home, but they are aging."
"Do you have any idea what you want for him? I have a catalogue. Mikhail, give it to him, please." Mikhail, the other assistant, moved to provide Sarov with the paper.
The conversation continued in Russian as the General articulated what he had in mind for the boy. Alex's attire was devoid of graphics or pop culture references. He had a conservative but attractive wardrobe. The suits were no different. Sarov told the tailor he wanted something suitable for Alex's age.
"Does the boy need anything else, sir?" Mikhail asked after they were done.
"That will be all. Thank you." And with that, Alex was whisked out of the shop and brought back to the car.
"Are we going back home?" Alex asked.
"We only came here for measurements," Sarov said. "When the suit is finished, I'll bring you back to try it on."
"What will I do when we get home?"
"You can start on your homework. If you're hungry, you can make yourself lunch or ask one of our staff for something. We will dine together later on and then it will be time for bed. And by that, I mean only bed," Sarov said sharply.
Alex nodded and closed his eyes the rest of the ride home.