Dimitri didn't sleep.
He wanted to, of course. Exhaustion made him ache all over, and his legendary ability to hold his liquor didn't make him immune to the drowsiness tugging his eyelids.
Still, no matter how long he stared into the room's black void, slumber never came for him.
Especially not after realizing the buzz in his bones had nothing to do with the vodka. His brain only registered Anya's sultry warmth, her little sighing breaths fanning his neck, her spindly limbs winding around his left side like a flesh-colored vine.
Dimitri had tried to get up. He really did. At least three or four times after Anya passed out, he'd attempted to extract himself from her grip and tiptoe to his own room. But Anya would always whimper, crumpling a fistful of his shirt, and clutch him even tighter.
Around midnight he gave up with a resentful sigh. Funny how someone vehemently averse to physical contact became clingy as hell while intoxicated.
With no expectation to nod off, Dimitri decided to focus his energy on corralling his thoughts, which kept wandering into places they shouldn't.
By dawn, he started to lose that battle, too.
Pale, languid fingers of morning light revealed Anya one feature at a time, from the dark hair splayed wildly across the pillow, to the thick fringe of lashes resting against her mud-smudged cheek, to the ripe fullness of her mouth.
Perhaps most disturbing, Dimitri could now see that Anya had managed to kick off the blanket he'd thrown over her for modesty's sake, rucking the hem of her grimy dress up to her thighs in the process. A rip in her stockings exposed enough creamy skin to make his palms sweat.
All of a sudden he could feel his heartbeat in his throat.
As more light trickled through the woefully inadequate window, Dimitri found himself tempted to entertain the fantasy that had been nibbling at his mind all night.
It would be so easy to pretend he wasn't desperate, that he didn't need to sell Anya to liberate himself from an existence he could no longer endure, that they were just a young man and a young woman and nothing else mattered.
So easy to reach around and grab her waist, to roll her beneath him, to settle between those long, long legs and show her exactly how good a morning could feel.
Dimitri squeezed his eyes shut.
Clearly he'd been so long without a woman he'd lost his mind.
He'd sworn them off prior to he and Vladimir putting their scheme into action, his ability to focus too vital. The pull of physical attraction he'd been feeling was due to months of self-imposed deprivation. Nothing else. And even if he had actual feelings for Anya - which was too absurd to consider - he knew the rules about getting involved.
You didn't.
So it didn't matter that he was even more impressed with Anya's performance the night before than he let on. Or that it felt more than right to have her so close now, her body heat making him sticky with sweat.
Or how, when she whined in her sleep and her nose grazed the shell of his ear, he turned hard as a brick.
He knew better. He knew where the lines were drawn.
Puppeteer and puppet.
Conman, mark.
You didn't cross them if you valued your life. And he did, more than anything.
Slamming the mental door on his madness, he tried to think of how good his rubles would feel in the form of silk against his skin and fatty steak in his belly. Anya must have sensed something had changed; she groaned and flopped over to face the wall, her back to him.
Dimitri seized his chance at escape. He stumbled out of bed, snatching up his shoes and easing the door shut before Anya could roll over again.
The pub staff had put the place back in order after last night's festivities. Dimitri wound his way through the righted tables to get to Vladimir, whom he found seated near a window in the corner. He smirked at the steaming mug of black tea placed in front of an empty chair. Vladimir knew him well.
"I guess I don't have to ask how your night went," Dimitri said as he slid into the seat and took a tentative sip.
Vladimir bent down the corner of the newspaper he'd been reading to wink at Dimitri. "No, indeed. I believe the young lady is still sleeping. Very tired, you know."
Dimitri grimaced and reached for the pot of sugar. "Spare me the details."
Vladimir chuckled. "Do not ask if you do not wish to know." He rattled the paper as he turned the page.
"And I didn't because I don't," Dimitri said, shaking his head. He grunted with appreciation at the surprisingly delicious tea. Judging from what she said last night, Anya would hate it.
"What are you smiling about?" Vladimir folded the paper and placed it on the table, eyebrow raised in amusement.
Dimitri instantly wiped the grin off his face. "Nothing. So...what are we looking at as far as getting out of here is concerned?"
"The owner of this establishment informed me that the last bus for another month leaves in about one hour." Vladimir took a swig of his own hot drink.
Dimitri nodded. "So if we miss it, we'll be walking again."
"Correct."
Dimitri glanced at his watch. They barely had time for breakfast, and he really needed to get one more solid meal into Her Highness before they hit the road. Too many bones still showed through her skin for his taste. He couldn't present a well-dressed skeleton to the Dowager Empress.
Damn, he needed to buy her a dress, too -
"Did you sleep at all last night, Dimitri? You look like hell."
Dimitri gave his friend a sour look. "Thanks."
"And how about Anya? I imagine the two of you had quite a late night."
Not liking the twinkle in Vladimir's eye, Dimitri glared. "Do I look like I know how she slept?" Oh, Anya slept beautifully, he was sure, but he'd run out in the woods naked in a bee swarm before he'd tell Vladimir he knew that from firsthand observation. Dimitri would never hear the end of it.
Vladimir's lips twitched. "Don't you?"
"No, I don't," Dimitri said with heat and gulped the last of his tea. "Ask her yourself - if Her Majesty can be bothered with getting out of bed."
A disheveled Anya shuffled into the dining area some time later, the untied laces of her boots flapping about her ankles with every step. She'd finger-combed her hair into submission and scrubbed her face clean, but nothing could be done for the creases caused by sleeping face-down on the sheets.
She looked as pale as she did after her humiliating stomach upset on the train, alarming Dimitri enough not to take her to task for sleeping in. "Good morning, Your Grace." He used his foot to push a chair toward her.
Anya flinched, holding a palm to her forehead as she eased herself into the seat. "You don't have to scream at me, Dimitri."
Chuckling, Vladimir shook his head. "Are you alright, child?"
"Fantastic." Anya placed her elbows on the table and cradled her head in both hands. "But I'd be better if someone would call off the marching band inside my skull."
The intensity of the morning sun had grown in strength by then, drenching Anya in light the color of warm butter. Her eyes glimmered cobalt blue despite her overall sallowness.
Dimitri ignored the stirring they triggered in the pit of his stomach. "For someone who's supposed to be an old pro, you sure act like a lightweight."
"Funny thing is," Anya said on a wide yawn, dangling her arm off the edge of the table to let Pooka lick her fingers, "I can't remember going to bed at all." She turned to Dimitri, wide-eyed. "How'd I get to my room?"
Dimitri stiffened, especially when he realized Vladimir was staring as well. He shrugged. "I pushed you through the door before I went to bed myself across the hall." No way in hell would he tell her she practically slept in his arms all night and he'd been almost okay with it.
"Oh." Anya didn't question his answer. She propped her chin on the heel of her free hand and stared out the window to the road beyond. Dimitri avoided looking at Vladimir. He could sense his business partner didn't believe him, but at least he remained mute on the subject.
So Anya couldn't remember the more important bits of last night. Amidst the flood of relief, Dimitri felt a twinge of disappointment that the evening affected him so much more than it did her.
He cleared his throat. "You should probably eat something, Anya."
"Please." Anya groaned. "Don't say anything about food. Don't even think about food. I can't be held responsible for the consequences if you do."
Dimitri rolled his eyes. "At least drink something, then. The fluids will help."
When Anya didn't protest, Dimitri had the barkeep bring a pot of hot water and a mug filled with lemon slices. Anya poured the water with a trembling hand. It took some effort for Dimitri not to stare at her mouth when she pursed her lips and blew on the hot liquid.
Savoring it, she closed her eyes and sat back with a grateful moan. "That's wonderful. Thank you."
Dimitri's baser nature writhed at the sound, but Vladimir's low voice in his ear distracted him. "Dimitri, did you tell her - "
"No," Dimitri whispered quickly, knowing what Vladimir was asking. "Just a coincidence."
He'd gleaned that the Grand Duchess didn't like tea from his days in the palace kitchens; he knew tidbits like that would give them an edge over the competition for the reward money. Anya happening to dislike it was stroke of luck that worked in their favor.
Vladimir gave him a look but let the subject drop before leaving to procure food from the kitchen for their journey.
They hustled to the little station across town laden with bags stuffed with dried fruit and smoked fish and small loaves of dark rye, arriving in time to see the bus disappear around the bend in the road a quarter mile away.
"Godammit!" Dimitri dropped his burden where he stood and shoved both hands into his hair in exasperation.
"I was told the bus stops in each town overnight," Vladimir told Dimitri after digging out the map. "We should arrive in Strasburg by this evening if we leave now."
Anya put Pooka down and wandered over to the ditch to examine a stand of wildflowers poking through a patch of snow. She threw a questioning look at Dimitri over her shoulder. "So...what are we waiting for?"
Dimitri stopped glaring at the map and turned his furious gaze on her. "We were waiting for you all morning, which is why we missed the bus in the first place."
She stooped to pluck a bright pink flower and stood, tucking the bloom behind her ear. "So what? We're here now. We're on the road. Let's go."
Eyebrow raised, Dimitri said, "You're awfully unconcerned for someone who's about to walk " - he glanced at the map - "oh, I don't know, twenty miles."
Anya only shrugged. "Not like it can be worse than the forest. At least we have an actual road this time." Out of nowhere, a grin exploded across her face. "Besides, who can feel bad when it's so pretty outside?" She spread her arms wide, face tilted toward the cloudless sky as she spun in a circle.
There was some truth to that. Winter still clung in snowy clumps to nearly every surface, but this side of the Russian border springtime seemed to have crept in while they slept, bursting forth in downy green buds everywhere Dimitri looked.
That didn't keep him from gaping at Anya in disbelief. He didn't know what surprised him more: that she hadn't complained about their circumstances for the first time since they met, or that watching her childish glee triggered that mysterious ache deep in his chest.
The sun had just begun to sink below the tips of the trees by the time they came upon a footbridge that traversed a brook, a perfect place to stop and take a much needed break. Feet throbbing, Dimitri almost collapsed with relief.
They made stools of their luggage under an arbor of naked oak branches and passed around the sacks of food. No one spoke, too content to enjoy the intermittent birdsong above them and to watch the gurgling brook meander its way to parts unknown. Dimitri kept an eye on Anya, making sure to pass her something else to munch on whenever she got down to crumbs. He needed to fatten her up quick.
After a while, Anya ambled down the hill and gathered young daises by the handful to braid a crown for each of her associates.
Dimitri made a face when she placed one on his head with a flourish. "Thanks, I guess."
She grinned. "It's an improvement, trust me."
Vladimir, evidently recovered from his recent coughing episode and thrilled with his handmade gift, took to humming and waltzing around in the road with Pooka.
Which was entertaining right up to the point he started singing about Sophie.
And before Dimitri could scramble to his feet to stem the dangerous flow of information pouring from Vladimir's lips in melodic form, he heard Anya ask, "Who's Sophie?"
Shit.
"Who's Sophie?" Vladimir repeated incredulously, dark eyes glowing behind his spectacles. "Why, she's a cup of hot chocolate after a long walk in the snow - a decadent pastry filled with whipped cream and laughter." He disregarded Dimitri's stealthy attempts to hush him, yanking his protege into a twirl then dipping him backwards, right over an amused Anya's lap.
She squinted down into Dimitri's face, lips turned up in a wry smile. "Is this a person or a cream puff?"
"She's the Empress' ravishing first cousin!" Vladimir exclaimed, pulling Dimitri upright again and releasing him so suddenly he tumbled to the ground.
Dimitri kept his back to Anya after getting to his feet, trying to hide the dismay he knew showed plain as day on his face. It would be only a matter of moments before Anya put two and two together and came for his jugular. God, he could punch Vladimir in his big mouth -
"I thought we were going to see the Empress herself...what does her cousin have to do with anything?"
Silence.
"Dimitri!"
It was a shame her quick mind turned out to be a double-edged sword.
Upon hearing the approaching storm in her voice, Dimitri whirled and said, "Well, no one gets near the Dowager Empress without convincing Sophie first."
Anya had already thrown up her hands and stalked away. "No, not me, no way, Dimitri. Nobody ever said I had to prove I was Anastasia!"
"Just - "
Anya turned and advanced on him this time, forcing him to take a few steps backward. "No, you want me to lie. You want me to stand there in this stupid dress - " she grabbed handfuls of shabby fabric to highlight her point - "and tell that lonely, sad old woman that I'm her long-lost granddaughter."
"It could be true - that's the point!"
With a noise of disgust, Anya turned on her heel. Dimitri grabbed her sleeve and spun her back around to face him. Anya snatched her arm away, seething.
He needed to crank the charm up to maximum levels. "Just listen to me, okay? I know this is...unexpected, but I didn't tell you because I figured this was something you had to see through to the end, no matter what." Dimitri blasted Anya with his patented schoolboy-sweet grin.
Anya opened her mouth with what was no doubt a searing remark then seemed to falter, blinking at him. Then her eyes turned hard. "Look at me, Dimitri. Really - get a good look. Take it all in." She held her arms out to either side of her body, her baggy sleeves drooping from her thin frame. "Do I look any more like a duchess than I did the day we met?"
Starting to feel faint as the anxiety thickened in his veins, Dimitri shook his head. "Don't worry about your clothes. We can fix that. You are Anastasia," he said, dropping his voice to an earnest murmur as he captured her hand in both of his. To his surprise, she didn't pull away. "You, the person. That's what matters. That's what I believe in, what Vlad believes in. But you gotta believe it yourself for this to work."
Vladimir sidled up to him, perfect timing as usual. "There's nothing left for you back there, my dear," the older man said with a bittersweet smile. "Everything is in Paris."
Anya looked away and Dimitri watched the internal battle play out on her face, still holding her hand. She gently drew back after a long moment to wrap her arms around herself.
When she met his eyes at last, what he saw in them felt like a dropkick to the diaphragm.
Anya trusted him. Wholeheartedly. It glowed like a beacon from her stare, but Dimitri couldn't understand why the rush of triumph he should have felt at bending her to his will never came. All he wanted to do now was crawl into the nearest dark hole to hide.
Dimitri hazarded a glance at his partner, who grinned at Anya like he'd just won the lottery. He clearly had no such qualms. Anya's tiny body nearly disappeared into Vladimir's embrace as his mentor told her, "You are an engaging and fiery young woman, one I have seen show a regal command equal to any royal in the world." He lifted her head with a finger under her chin and Anya offered him a nervous smile. "For you, this will be easy."
Easy, Dimitri thought scornfully, swallowing hard as his own smile turned brittle. Yeah, right.