Master Author Short Story Reflection
Reflection: During this unit, we learned how to research an author of our choice. We learned how to take inspiration and not plagiarize from our master author and others. We discussed how inspiration and plagiarism don’t have a definite set line in which you can cross. Inspiration can always bleed into plagiarism if too much is taken. We learned the importance of copyrighting our own original images, and to not steal from others. We learned about AI writing, and how this could put people out of the job, no longer requiring as many people to write the work. It is important to learn about these topics so that we can spread awareness to others about why they should not use AI writers, plagiarize from others, or steal people’s original work.
Master Author Short Story
My master author, Katherine Arden, inspired the setting of this work. Like her book series, the story of Ekaterina and Noklai is set in 14th century Russia. Some of the Slavic spirits that make an appearance in her books appear in this story – Domovoi, Rusalka, and the Bannik. This story features a young girl, desperate to make her own choices and live her life, much like ‘The Bear and the Nightingale.’ A major theme that is borrowed from her works is the theme of religion, and so called good versus evil.
The Empress of Rus
By:Arwen Mencke
Ekaterina, Katya, Smirnoff had a choice. According to her papa she could marry the crown prince, Noklai Starodvoskii, or be sent to a convent. Live in the house of worship, never marry, never live her life freely. It wasn’t really a choice at all. She would marry the crown prince. As she ponders her ‘choice’ in the lush green grass, the Rusalka rises up from the nearby river. The once calm water churns around her.
“Greetings Ekaterina, daughter of Leonid Smirnoff, why are you here? Pondering your thoughts by my river is quite the risk. Are you not afraid for your life?”
“Greetings Great Rusalka of the Kama River,” she replies without enthusiasm. “I do not fear for my life since I know you only drown men. As you can see, I am no man.”
Ekaterina turns around and sees the Rusalka’s figure, glistening from the river. She’s gorgeous, her body draped in a semi-transparent robe. Her hair is long and green, much like the color of water grass. Atop her fair head sits a crown composed of flowers and herbs. The Rusalka are water spirits or demons, and commonly appear in children’s stories. They are said to be young women who drowned – intentionally or not – before they were married.
“Fair point Lady Ekaterina. Though today I’m not here to play word games. We, the spirits of the world and creatures of the household, among other things, are here to request your services. Noklai Starodvoskii, your soon to be betrothed, has been corrupted by the Church. He is planning to exorcist and kill the spirits and household creatures that he can find,” she pauses and gives Ekaterina a pointed look. “We need your help. We need you to kill him.”
“I understand. But the real question remains.” Ekaterina rises from her spot on the grass. “Why would I want to help you?”
“You can see us, communicate with us, and have known us for many years. Why would you not help us?”
The Rusalka’s demeanor shifts, she straightens to her full height, almost a head taller than Ekaterina. Her skin ripples, and when she speaks again, her tone holds a slightly veiled threat, “I could always make an exception and drown you. Nobody would ever know the truth.”
“But why me? I’m not special. Everyone can see the spirits and household creatures, they just choose to be ignorant of the fact. They all believe in the bad omens and curses they could suffer from.” Ekaterina frowns, understanding dawning upon her. “Is this because I talk to you? Because you are my childhood friends? Because nobody else acknowledges your existence in this pitiful world?”
“I’m glad you understand my sweet Ekaterina.” The Rusalka’s figure shimmers before she starts to disappear back into the Kama River. “Thank you for doing this. We will find a way to repay you.”
Ekaterina stares open mouthed at the now empty river. She didn’t even agree. Well, not out loud at least. She decides to take a nap, next to the river in the swaying grass. She will return home to inform her papa of her decision upon her awakening.
The sun has started to set by the time Ekaterina opens her eyes to the world once more. The sky, now pink, is striped with clouds, the sun dipping behind the trees, illuminating their silhouette. The summer air has cooled, and a pleasant breeze rustles the fresh leaves. She pushes herself up into a sitting position, pulls a few pieces of grass from her hair, then sets off towards home. Following the dirt path, the walk is quick. When she reaches her house, she sees flickering candle light in the kitchen window. The sides of her house are clad in wood, the roof thatched with dried grass and reeds. The windows have shutters on them to block from the cold winter wind. A figure moves into the light of the candle. Sônia! Ekaterina’s nursemaid. Ekaterina races towards her house, nearly tripping over her long red sarafan. As she burst through the door, a startled Sônia turned in her direction.
“Katya! You scared me half to death! And why do you look like that?” as Sônia rushes to fuss over her appearance, she tries to picture what she looks like in her mind.
She is of medium size and stature, with waist length wavy brown hair, hazel eyes, and a creamy complexion. She has a dusting of freckles across her round nose and upper cheek bones due to her many hours spent in the sun. Her hair is currently knotted and Sônia desperately tries to remove all the stray grass and leaves from her nap.
“Where have you been? Your papa will be home any minute, expecting a presentable daughter and a hearty meal of borsch! Quickly, go get changed!” Sônia pushes me in the direction of my small room, urging me to do as she says.
“Yes, Sônia. Did papa have a troubling day today?” Ekaterina inquires, not quite able to discern Sônia’s flustered attitude.
“Your papa has news of the Crown Prince’s marriage request. If you accept he will be here within the week. He wants you to be on your best behavior, and it is my job to ensure that. Now go get changed!”
At Sônia’s demand, she rushes down the hall, and enters her dark room. On a small table beside the door, her hands locate the fire steel and tinderbox. Lighting the tinder, Ekaterina grabs a wood sliver and transfers the growing flame to the candles worn wick. The small room is immediately filled with light. As Ekaterina turns to glance around her room she notices the Smirnoff’s Domovoi perched precariously on the edge of her bed. Domovoi are household creatures that can either play the role of a lucky charm or a curse. They appear in the shape of an old man and usually live in the attic or basement.
“Domovoi, do you need something?”
“Not at all Lady Ekaterina. I’m just here to thank you on behalf of the creatures and spirits in our world. You are doing all of us a great favor and service.”
With those empty words, the Domovoi slides from my bed cover and pads quickly across the floor, leaving without a backward glance. As Katya changes out of her dirty sarafan, and into a new light blue sarafan, she only thinks about how she is going to accomplish killing the Crown Prince without getting herself killed.
The sun has fully disappeared from the sky, leaving behind an inky sky dotted with constellations. A knock resounds on her door and she quickly rises to her feet. Sônia stands on the other side when she opens the door.
“Katya, your papa has arrived. It is time to eat. Be quick so the borsch doesn’t get cold.” Sônia wrings her hands in her pinafore, looking older by the second.
“Of course. Thank you Sônia.” Ekaterina smiles, trying to ease her nursemaid’s worries.
As Ekaterina makes her way to the dining room, she wonders what mood her papa is going to be in. She quickly enters the room and takes her place across the table from her papa.
“Good evening papa. How was today?” The easiest way to gauge her papa’s mood was through small talk.
“My dearest Katya.” He smiles. “I’m so happy to see you. Have you made your decision?”
“Yes.” Ekaterina answers, feigning a smile of her own. “I agree to marry Noklai Starodvoskii.”
With those words, Ekaterina had sealed her fate. The Crown Prince’s arrival happened two days after Ekaterina’s declaration. His entourage was with him, filling the courtyard of her tiny house.
As Ekaterina sinks into a low curtsy, she says, “Greetings Your Highness.”
Beside her, her papa bends at the waist in a low bow. They are both dressed in their most formal attire. Ekaterina wears dark red silk sarafan, vastly different from her everyday rough spun sarafans. Her brown hair is tied up in a complex hairstyle through the use of a white scarf. Her papa is adorned in his finest shirt, a creamy white, with a dark blue silk waist tie. His trousers were brown and tucked into his boots. The Crown Prince emerged from his horse drawn carriage, and Ekaterina forced herself to keep her eyes down. To remain docile and shy. To show nothing.
“Ah, if it isn’t my beautiful bride,” He says, a smile pulling at his lips.
Ekaterina hears his footsteps approaching, and forces her eyes to stay on the ground. To focus on the hard packed dirt. Two fingers press into her chin, lifting her face so it’s level with the kneeling Crown Prince’s. She lifts her eyes to his face and is shocked by his youth. He looks to be no more than 19. A mop of dirty blonde hair sits upon his head. His skin is pale, a small scar running through his right cheek is the only disturbance in his otherwise smooth skin. He smiles, and Ekaterina looks into his bright blue eyes. He reaches for her small hand before rising from his kneeling position. As he stands at his full height, Ekaterina is once again shocked by his height. He must be at least two heads taller than her. He is dressed in an embroidered cream silk shirt, with a black waist tie and loose black trousers. He brings her hand to his perfect mouth, planting a kiss on it before lowering it back down to her side.
“Ekaterina, Katya, your beauty has reached my ears in the capital. It’s a relief to know that they were not exaggerating. Please look at me. We are equals now,” He speaks like he wants to know her, as a person, not just a beautiful work of art for display.
“Your Highness,” is the only response Ekaterina gives.
The Crown Prince turns his attention to her papa, “If you have no objections,” he says. “Then we will be leaving. Please help load her luggage into the carriage. I will allow one last goodbye between you two.”
With those harsh words void of emotion, he turns and sanuters back to his carriage, climbing in and closing the door. Ekaterina turns towards her papa but he is already loading her singular bag into the storage compartment on a second, less adorned, carriage. As he walks back her gives her a quick hug before shoving her towards the Crown Prince’s carriage.
“Papa! Wait!” Ekaterina cries.
Willing her papa to turn around and face her. He doesn’t. Just goes through the door to her home, not once looking back. Ekaterina notices Sônia standing in the doorway, before the door closes fully, dabbing delicately at her tear-striped face. Resigned, Ekaterina turns and opens the door to the Crown Prince’s carriage. He waits inside, offering a hand to climb inside which she takes reluctantly. No need to be difficult.
“Katya,” he says, words filled with a silent sigh. “Call me Noklai. And do sit beside me.” He pats the fur covered seat expectantly.
Ekaterina sits where he indicated and when the carriage starts moving, he puts an arm around her waist, pulling her close. When Ekaterina asks him to remove his arm his only response is, “The ride will be long and bumpy, let me hold you for your comfort.”
They bounce slowly over the uneven terrain. Through the day and into the night. Only stopping for the occasional bathroom breaks. They even eat in the carriage during meal time. Never once does Noklai let go of her, as if he is afraid she will disappear without his touch. Ekaterina eventually gives into her exhaustion, and lets her head fall onto his broad shoulder. She feels him flinch, then quickly stiffen, or maybe she imagined it. She is too tired to care.
When Ekaterina awoke next, she felt extra weight upon her head. She was still sitting up, her body still trapped in Noklai’s tight embrace. Her head was still balanced on his shoulder, and his head was resting on hers. Ekaterina squirmed, trying to break free of his hold. This only caused Noklai to tighten his hold.
“Don’t leave me too Katya,” he murmured into her hair. “I don’t want to be alone again.”
This caused Ekaterina to still her movements. Who had left the Crown Prince? She was uncomfortable but didn’t want to risk waking Noklai so she closed her eyes and willed sleep to fall upon her once again.
The first golden rays of the sun, flitting through the cloth covered windows, awoke Noklai. Once realizing he is awake, Ekaterina lifts her head so suddenly that she smacks right into his chin.
“Ow,” she exclaimed. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a hard chin?”
Noklai stared down at her, finally releasing his hold on her waist to rub his injured face.
“И тебе тоже доброе утро, Катя (Good morning to you too, Katya.).” he sighs. “Did you really have to hit my face though? You have a comfortable head by the way.”
Ekaterina glares at him, taking the opportunity to scoot to the other end of the bench seat.
“Well, you have an extremely uncomfortable shoulder. I do not wish to sleep sitting up ever again.”
“Right, I apologize. That was inconsiderate of me. I will do better to listen to your wishes in the future.” a smile plays across his lips.
Ekaterina recognizes his tactic. He is just humoring her. Her face flushes in humiliation, how dare he.
“No, it is I who should apologize. I should not have spoken back to Your Highness.” she grins in satisfaction, watching as his face falls at the formality. “Please forgive me, Your Highness. It will not happen again.”
“Katya,” he reaches a hand towards her. “Drop the formalities, and come sit by me again. I didn’t mean it. Please.”
His last word is said in a whisper. No Crown Prince should have to beg someone to do something. They should demand it.
“Fine,” she says begrudgingly
Ekaterina scoots back to his side, and his arm comes around her immediately, pulling her tightly to his side.
“Can you remove your arm though?”
“No.” he smirks. “I like holding you.”
One week into the trip, the carriage rumbles to a stop. They are located in an unnamed town. There is only one and a half weeks left of their journey to Moscow. Noklai claims that they will be going to a bathhouse, to clean themselves properly. As one of Noklai’s guards holds open the carriage door for Ekaterina, she climbs out gratefully. Her sarafan is mint green, and she wears flat boots. Noklai hands her a bundle of clothing, the finest clothing she has ever worn, before showing her the way to the bathhouse.
“I will wait for you out here,” he says before turning away from the small hut.
Ekaterina opens the doors and walks inside, finding a small tin tub filled with warm water and rose petals. She undresses quickly and slips into the warm waters, relieving the soreness in her joints. As she looks around in the steam she notices the bathhouse spirit. A Bannik. He is a man with an overly large head, long tangled hair and a beard that stretches his entire body. When he opens his mouth to speak, Ekaterina catches a glimpse of his jagged teeth.
“Hello, seeing being. Would you like to know of your fortune?”
“Great Bannik of the bathhouse, I am here to give you an offering,” Ekaterina holds out a small chunk of her soap.
The Bannik snatches it with his hands, cradling it to his wrinkled chest.
He sniffs the soap intently, “Sage and lilac!” he exclaims. “I will tell your fortune. Give me your hands seeing being,”
Ekaterina hesitantly places her hands in his, and his fingers curl around to grasp her.
“You have good fortune…for now. In the near future you will suffer. Suffer from pain so potent you will welcome death,” his hands tighten, crushing the bones in her fingers. “Nothing and nobody can save you from the horrors you will witness.”
At that, Ekaterina yanks her hands free, clambers from the tub, dresses quickly in her clean sarafan and races from the bathhouse. She can still hear the Bannik calling out after her.
“You will suffer the wrath of God!”
As Ekaterina stumbles into the light, Noklai glances at her, a questioning tilt to his head.
“Is something wrong Katya?” his concern fills the air, making it harder for her to breathe.
“N-no. Nothing is wrong. I’m fine.” she smiles wanly, trying to convince the both of them.
“Uh, sure,” is his only reply.
Ekaterina turns and rushes back to the carriage, climbing in and getting herself settled. A sharp shrill scream pierces through the air. Ekaterina quickly turns towards the window, searching for the source of such a horrible sound. The screaming stops just as abruptly as it began, and a few minutes later Noklai exits the bathhouse. He strides up the carriage, has a quick word with the driver then climbs in beside her.
He shoots her questioning look, “Are you sure you are fine? That nothing truly happened?”
“Yes, of course.” she smiles again, looking into his gorgeous blue eyes.
Noklai reaches out and grasps her by the wrist, before pulling her close to him. He wraps both of his arms around her, hugging her tightly to his chest.
“You do know you can tell me anything my dearest Katya. Anything at all.”
Ekaterina squeezes her eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the sound of their hearts pounding in tandem.
“I know,” she replies, trying to ignore the feeling of guilt worming its way into her heart. “I know.”
The rest of the journey goes smoothly. No more Bannik telling her fortune, no more suspicion from Noklai. They arrive in Moscow and their wedding ceremony is immediately acted upon. They will be married in 3 days. One day for settling in, one day for banqueting, and one day for the ceremony and crowning of Ekaterina as Crown Princess. Everything was moving way too fast for Ekaterina’s liking.
“Are you nervous to meet your people Katya?” Noklai asks.
“Yes. But I am excited to finally have a proper room again.”
He smirks, “It will be our new room.”
“Our?” she echos, unsure if she heard him correctly.
“That’s what I said. Our room,” he emphasizes, with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
“What! Why would we share? We are not yet married. We have no reason to share.”
“That’s not true. We have plenty of reasons to share a room. We are soon to be married, and I enjoy your company. Which is why I specifically requested to share a room with you.”
“You requested! Noklai!” she says exasperated.
“It will be no different from sharing the carriage. It will be comfortable, keeping each other company and such. Just trust me,” he replies.
“Fine.”
They sit in silence for the rest of the trip to the palace. Ekaterina gazing out the window at the well developed dwellings. Vendors line the sides of the road, shouting about their magnificent goods, hoping someone will buy from them. They pass by richer houses, and finally Ekaterina spots the palace. It is built with a combination of stone and wood. Towering high above the rest of the surrounding structures, moss and ivy clinging to the sides. The palace is elegant in its own way. Not perfect, showing many flaws but standing tall, a sign of strength.
“That’s your new home,” states Noklai. “What do you think of it?”
“It’s…interesting. I was expecting something grander. Something much more extravagant and boasting of the wealth held inside.”
“Many have a hard time believing this is the real palace.”
“Well…” Ekaterina pokes Noklai in his side. “Is it the real palace?”
He laughs, a bemused look crossing his face, “Yes, this is the real palace. The inside is much more impressive.”
“I’m counting on it.” She smiles at Noklai and he smiles back.
Maybe, just maybe, he isn’t corrupted. Maybe she wouldn’t have to kill him.
Soon their carriage rolls through the palace gates, and into the garden filled courtyard. Ekaterina notices a figure dressed in heavy furs and jewels by the entrance. That must be Emperor Vlastislav Starodvoskii. Noklai exits the carriage first, offering a hand to help Ekaterina out. She gratefully accepts, nervous to be at the palace, especially coming from such a humble background. Noklai holds her hand, even after she has made it from the carriage, and together they walk towards the Emperor. Ekaterina curtsies on instinct. It’s a terrible curtsy, one hand still trapped in Noklai’s grip.
“Your Imperial Majesty, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. Thank you for sending your son to personally escort me to the palace. I am not worthy of such a display.”
She keeps her eyes down on the ground until she feels a small squeeze on her hand. Dropping her curtsy, she glances up to meet the eyes of the Emperor. He smiles at her, and she sees kindness in his old gray eyes.
“The pleasure is all mine, Ekaterina.” He says before turning to address his son. “Noklai, Ekaterina and I will have a nice little chat before settling down. Help unload the luggage and she will be waiting for you in your room when we are finished.”
“Yes, Father.” He then lets go of Ekaterina’s hand and walks back to the carriage.
“Ekaterina, please come with me.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” she replies, taking the arm he offers her.
They enter the palace, and she immediately realizes that Noklai’s words about the interior ring true. The floor is covered with a red velvet carpet, and paintings of the previous Dukes, Duchesses, Princes, Princesses, Emperors, Empresses, and all the other Nobility fill the walls. There are artifacts stored in glass boxes, mementos of Russia’s first years as an Empire. Ekaterina gasps involuntarily, overwhelmed by the wealth surrounding her. The Emperor leads her to a wooden door, pulls the handles and leads her inside the room.
“This is the Emperor’s office.” he gestures at the plush chairs surrounding a table. “Please take a seat.”
Ekaterina sits, unsure what her and the Emperor had to discuss. He takes the seat across from her, crossing his legs, a sneer distorting his face.
“Have you ever wondered why I would let my son, the Crown Prince marry a peasant such as yourself. Have you wondered what your purpose in the palace is? From the look on your face I can safely assume that no, you have not wondered about anything. I must say, you are quite the disappointment.” He sighs, and shoots her a lethal look.
“I’m sorry Your Imperial Majesty. I don’t understand.”
“Here.” He pulls a letter from deep inside his furs, handing it to her. “It’s from your papa, he explains everything in here.”
Ekaterina takes the letter, not knowing what else to do. She opens it up and starts to read:
Katya, I’m sure you are confused. I sure was when I first heard of the Emperor’s strange request. But now I understand. You are going to save us all. I know that you are friends with the spirits and household creatures. I know that you treat them like human beings. There is a prophecy. And you are the salvation in it. Father Ivan saw, from God, the Crown Prince’s wedding. You were there. Later, you die, by someone’s hand. But your death saves us all. The spirits that have plagued this world for centuries die with you, leaving our lands. Finally freeing us from their constraint. Your death rids the world of the plague, brought upon by the spirits, of bad luck and dark omens. You save us all. That is the reason I sold you off to the Emperor. As the Crown Prince’s bride. I hope you can understand and forgive my actions.
-Papa
Ekaterina finishes reading the letter, anger blossoming on her cheeks.
“What is the meaning of this! Is everything in this letter true? Have you been the one killing the spirits and the household creatures? Painting the blame on your son?” she bursts out, the brashness of her words striking the Emperor.
“Yes,” he remarks, uncaring towards her anger and indignation. “I have ordered my son to kill the creatures and spirits. I fed him rumors of your beauty, so that he would marry you. So the prophecy would come true. The day after the wedding, you will die. Not by my hands, but by my order. There is a servant waiting outside the door. They will lead you to your room. You are dismissed.”
Ekaterina stands, crumpling the letter in her clenched fists. She curtsies in the direction of the Emperor one final time before leaving. The servant sees her and begins walking towards a stairway. Ekaterina follows, going up two flights of stairs and then to the left. The servant pulls open a wooden door to reveal a plush bed covered in a red bedspread, and a few furs. Noklai is not yet back, probably taking care of whatever Crown Princes have to do. Ekaterina doesn’t bother changing into her bed clothes, just squirms into the plush material. She does however allow herself one ragged sob before composing herself once more. Nobody shall know her weakness.
It is late at night when Ekaterina hears someone enter her room. A voice calls to her tentatively, “Darling Katya, are you asleep?”
Noklai. He has finally finished with his princely duties.
“Hmmm.”
“You did not show up for dinner. Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Oh. I see.”
Ekaterina hears footsteps approaching where she lays, and though her eyes are closed she can feel Noklai’s stare. She feels him rest a hand atop her head, brushing back some stray hairs from her face before bending down and planting a kiss upon her forehead. Then he is quickly walking away. He has moved to the other side of the bed, not bothering to change, he climbs in beside Ekaterina.
“Katya,” he murmurs into her ear. “I think I love you.”
With those words, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her to him. And all through the night, he cradles her in his arms.
Ekaterina wakes in a tangle of limbs, sometime in the night she must have wrapped herself around Noklai. She quickly removes her arms from his waist and pulls her head out from under his. When she squirms to free herself completely, she realizes that he is holding onto her just as tightly.
“Katya, just stay with me. Please,” Noklai whispers.
Ekaterina sighs, then makes a decision, “I think I love you too, Noklai.”
At that he bolts upright, dropping her in the process.
“I don’t know what you are talking about. When did I ever say I loved you.” His face is flushed, red running up to tinge his ears.
“Oh, I don’t know. Last night, before you fell asleep. After you kissed my forehead.” She smirks, and rolls over towards the edge of the bed.
“I thought you were asleep. I didn’t think you were listening to me.” He looks away, embarrassment flooding his face. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“I know,” she replies before getting out of bed. “I know.”
Ekaterina dresses in a deep green sarafan, the neckline embroidered with flowers and vines. A formal outfit perfect for the banquet filled day ahead of her. She gives Noklai, still laying in bed, one final glance before leaving their room.
Ekaterina attends banquet after banquet. All held in her honor, all organized by the Emperor. Everytime someone appears before her to congratulate her, she jumps and shrinks back. After the 5th banquet, she decides she has had enough. Leaving the banquet behind, Ekaterina hurries to the bathhouse. When she enters, she finds a Bannik waiting for her.
“Ah Ekaterina, I was waiting for you to show up. We, the spirits, have something for you.”
The spirit produces a long thin dagger from the tin tub. The blade shimmers, made from some impossibly dark stone.
“It’s an obsidian blade. The sharpest in all of Russia. The blade can cut through the hardest of surfaces, even bone. It’s so you can kill the Crown Prince. So you can save us all.”
Ekaterina takes the dagger from the expectant creature, hiding it beneath her sarafan, before muttering a quick thank you. Tears prick her eyes as she turns from the bathhouse. She doesn’t return to the banquet, instead going to her room. She climbs back into bed and falls into a restless sleep.
The creaking of the door alerts Ekaterina of someone’s arrival.
“My Father was right. You did run from the banquets. What’s wrong Katya? Are you regretting your choice?” Noklai’s voice cuts through her sleep-addled mind.
“I never had a choice to begin with,” she says, her words cutting into Noklai. “It was all planned from the beginning. This marriage. My death. All planned out. Please leave me Noklai. I’d prefer to be alone.”
“Katya, what are you saying? Do you really mean those harsh words? I have been nothing but kind to you, we even got along well. What do you mean by never having a choice? I don’t understand. Please help me understand.” Noklai moves towards Ekaterina, hands extended to cradle her face. She slaps them away, causing her pent up anger to give way. Tears stream down her face, and Noklai looks stricken.
“Noklai,” she says warningly. “Please leave.”
And he does. Turning quickly and fleeing through the door. Ekaterina turns around, burying her head in the pillows nearby, screaming into them, releasing her anger. Her sadness. She becomes an empty shell of herself. Hollowed out by the actions of those around her. And when she sleeps, it is tainted by her waiting nightmares. Of her dying, of her killing the Emperor.
It is the day of the ceremony, the day of the crowning. Ekaterina is ready. She is dressed in crimson sarafan, with a vermillion embroidered blouse overtop. She wears a heavy headpiece, decorated with round beads and golden thread. She has not seen or spoken to Noklai since the day prior. He must be upset at her actions. The last part of her attire is a heavy fur cloak, which helps her conceal the obsidian dagger. Her face is painted with pale powder, and her lips stained red. She looks the part of a blushing bride. When the clock strikes midday, she leaves her room for the church. She is escorted by a gaggle of guards, and Nobles. Noklai is already waiting at the doors for her. He is dressed in a red kaftan, with a black waist tie. He wears his crown on his head. It is an extravagant crown, forged of gold and inlaid with ruby gemstones. She will soon have a matching crown on her head, replacing the headpiece. They do not speak to each other, Noklai not even glancing her way. Ekaterina accepts that she is not worthy of him, she deserves worse from him.
The Head Priest, coincidentally Father Ivan, hands them each a lit candle, which is supposed to remain lit throughout the ceremony. The big church doors open and Ekaterina and Noklai step in together. They walk between the church pews, ignoring each other’s existence. Father Ivan quietly shuffles along behind them. When they arrive at the altar, the rest of the recipients flow in, the Emperor among them. He flashes a smile at Ekaterina. She grimaces, imagining his blood on her hands. Then time speeds up. They say their vows, promise to always love each other, now and forever. Ekaterina accepts the Starodvoskii name, and Noklai accepts her as his wife. They kiss, the people cheer. A crown, molded from gold and inlaid with ruby stones, is produced by Father Ivan. Ekaterina vows to protect and serve Russia well as the Crown Princess. When the headpiece is removed and the crown is placed upon her head, the people cheer once again. Ekaterina is numb. She blinks back to her senses when a hand touches her. Noklai’s hand.
He looks down on her, his expression pained. “I’m sorry.” he mouths at her. “I’m sorry for everything.” She gives him a confused look, then the music starts up. The bride and groom’s first dance. It is a traditional dance, the Korobushka. A partner dance that begins with the couples making a circle, standing side by side with the man’s left shoulder pointed towards the center of the circle holding cross hands with the lady in front of him. Her right shoulder is pointed to the outside of the circle. There are six steps in the dance. The schottische forward and backward is one, then the Polak forward is the second step. The Hungarian Bokazni is next followed by the double step and slow walks. The final step is the ladies’ part of the Hungarian Bokazni. Step 4, 5, and 6 are repeated again and when finished, the dance starts back from step one. When the dance is finished, Ekaterina and Noklai are approached by the Emperor.
“Noklai, my son, I’m sure you don’t mind if I steal your new wife away for a moment, we have much to discuss.”
“Of course Father.”
Ekaterina is led back to the palace, and into the Emperor’s office. He motions for her to sit and she complies.
“Your Imperial Majesty, did you need something from me?”
“Yes, I am letting you know that tonight will be your last night alive. You will be dead by morning.”
“Oh. I see.”
Ekaterina lets her tears fall, and when the Emperor reaches toward her to offer a handkerchief, she lunges at him. Full of fury and hatred. She digs the obsidian dagger from inside her furs, intending to kill him. But he overpowers her, being bigger and heavier. She rolls on the floor, her crown falling from her hair, her legs tangled in her sarafan. The Emperor is on top of her, his weight crushing her bones. Ekaterina brings her arm up, dagger gleaming, and aims for his neck but he moves faster, anticipating her attack. They are both on their feet in an instant. Their heavy breaths fill the air. This time the Emperor lunges at Ekaterina first, and she dodges to the side, crashing into a glass case. The glass shatters, pieces getting stuck in her exposed flesh. She has little time to react before the Emperor is upon her again, his fat hands going for her throat. She swings the blade uselessly, she is at a disadvantage. As his hands wrap around her throat, he starts to talk,
“I wasn’t going to kill you myself. But you’ve left me no choice. I will make your death painful, more painful than anything you have ever experienced before.”
Ekaterina struggles against his grasp, feeling the air leave her lungs, her breaths becoming shallower. The Bannik’s words come back to her. Saying that she will ‘suffer the wrath of God’. In this case, she had at least found out who God was. The Emperor is believed to have powers to communicate with God, and above all be the reincarnation of God. Every word he says is thought to be from God himself. Ekaterina chokes on her next breath, spit bubbling up through her lips. If she was gonna die, she was going to at least die fighting. She brings her arm up one final time, over the Emperor’s body. As she drops her, she pushes the dagger into whatever flesh she finds. A gut wrenching scream fills the air, she had stabbed the Emperor in the base of his skull, severing the connection between his spine and brain. His body goes limp, and she pries his hands from around her neck, gasping in lungfuls of air. His body is now dead weight, making it heavier on Ekaterina’s body. She pushes against him, and rolls out from under so they now lay side by side. The only difference being that she is alive and he is dead. Blood pumps out from his wound, thick and gelatinous. She stands up, dagger still in hand and starts towards the door. She is ready to flee with only the clothes on her back. As she reaches for the handle, the door swings open to reveal Noklai and a group of guards.
“Uh, Noklai, what are you doing here?” Ekaterina says, waving her arms wide to hide the Emperor’s prone body.
“I heard a scream. Where is my Father?” He cranes his neck to peer around her.
The color drains from his face when he spots his father basking in a pool of his own blood.
“This isn’t what it looks like Noklai.” Ekaterina pleads when she sees his face.
“Guards, take her to the dungeon. She is under arrest for the murder of Emperor Vlastislav Starodvoskii.”
Rough hands grab her, and she brandishes her bloody dagger. One of the guards moves to grab it when Noklai holds up a hand, halting him.
“Let her keep it. She is untrained and will not be able to harm anyone who is ready for her attack. Just drop her in the dungeon already.”
“Noklai, please, let me explain, please you have to listen to me. You promised you would.”
“Oh I have to? You are nothing to me anymore. You murdered my Father in cold blood. GUARDS! Remove her immediately, and someone, gag her.” He draws a hand down his face, and his body starts to shake.
Ekaterina is dragged away, rough cloth in her mouth to keep her from speaking. She does not struggle, knowing that she will need to conserve her energy for the dungeon. The guards pull her along down five flights of stairs, before opening an iron door. This must be the dungeon. Putrid smells reach her nostrils causing her eyes to water. They slosh through puddles of filth, until they reach an empty cell. They toss her in and hook her wrists in the chains on the wall, keeping her far from the bars. They remove her gag and then leave her cell. When they exit the dungeon, slamming the iron door behind them, Ekaterina finally allows herself to weep at the horrors she has faced.
The hours pass. Or it could be days. Weeks. Time is hard to tell in the perpetually dark cell. Food that can only be described as slop arrives every so often, never at the same time. Ekaterina’s neck aches, she imagines deep purple bruises caging her neck. She does not speak, for her vocal cords strain against her tender flesh. Who knows how long it has been since she was put down here. All she knows is that one minute she is closing her eyes, and the next she is opening them up to look at the Crown Prince, no, Emperor. Noklai stands in her cell, an arms length away. He looks haggard, a sleep deprived, emotionless void of his usual self.
“Katya,” He says when she opens her eyes. “Why did you kill my Father?”
She shakes her head, too hurt to speak.
“I just want to know why. Did he do that to your neck?” He reaches his hand out to rub at the bruises. Ekaterina flinches from his touch, hissing through her teeth.
“It was a kill or be killed situation, Your Imperia-”
“Noklai.”
“Right, Noklai.” She coughs, her throat parched, her vocal cords burning.
“Katya, I read the letter from your papa. I just need you to tell me what happened. I’ll release you. I need you to rule by my side. Please, tell me what happend!” he exclaims, stricken.
“He was going to kill me the next morning. I needed to kill him to save the spirits and household creatures he was dead set on killing. I wanted to live. It was selfish of me. I should have let him ki-”
“NO! You should not have let him kill you. That would have left an even bigger hole in my heart. I need you Katya. Do you still wish to be with me?” He seems to regret his outburst.
Looking like he wants to pull the words out of the air and back into his mouth.
“Yes, Noklai, I still want to be with you.”
With those words, Noklai grabs a key from the inside of his kaftan and quickly unlocks her chains. He immediately pulls her into a tight embrace, and Ekaterina lets her body melt into his. She is too weak to walk so Noklai carries her from the dungeon. Instead of going to get medical treatment, they pass by the palace’s reception area. The Nobility are gathered, dressed in their finery.
“Attention,” Noklai calls out from the front of the room, Ekaterina buries her face in his shoulder, “I’d like to introduce you to your Empress.”
Everyone turns to him, then they notice the girl in his arms. The girl covered in grime. Their new Empress.
“Please welcome Empress Ekaterina Starodvoskii.”
And the crowd breaks into bows, curtsies, and applause.