The Second Archon War: Comoedia Glacialis 10 (Patreon)

Comoedia Glacialis 10: The Dancer and the Servant’s Aside 

“The r…re…red! The red…peg…pen! The red pen is my…f…fa…fan…fanorit?” Kollei said carefully, looking up at Anastasia in confusion, her finger over the last word. 

“The red pen is my favorite,” Anastasia corrected gently. 

Kollei nodded seriously, continuing to read laboriously as her finger slowly traced over the words in the workbook. It was something they’d bought at the store, meant for children just starting school to practice their reading. It had simple sentences and phrases, with pictures and some key vocabulary words. It was hard work for Kollei, but she was persistent. 

“That was very good, perhaps we can take a break now,” Anastasia suggested. “We’ve been working for nearly two hours.”

“No, I-I can finish the book,” Kollei insisted, blinking her eyes and then rubbing her knuckles at them. 

“We should eat lunch, then I need to practice for a bit,” Anastasia said. “You can work at math while I do, you’re much better at that.”

“It’s just numbers, they’re easier, but I still don’t know how to do the multiplication as fast as you or Thoma,” Kollei said forlornly, but she did close the book. 

“That is something that’ll come with time,” Anastasia said. “Speaking of, I’ll call him so we can get some lunch.”

Kollei frowned, then looked suddenly panicked. “But we have food here, don’t we? W-we’re not out, are we!?”

“No, no, not that at all. It’s just been ages since I’ve been to a nice cafe, and I’ve not taken you to half the places I like,” Anastaisa assured her. “There’s plenty of food in the house, don’t worry.”

“We should get some extra, just in case,” Kollei said firmly, standing up hastily now and putting away her book in the satchel she always carried with her. Not a proper purse, Anastasia had offered her several designer options, but the silly girl had chosen a simple yet sturdy leather messenger bag that had all sorts of oddments in it. 

“The pantry is full to bursting already,” Anastasia said with a sigh, but didn’t argue too much. She kept a few MREs hidden in her room as well. She could remember going hungry, but never to the same degree Kollei had. 

While Kollei got herself ready to go, changing into something more presentable than the jeans and hoodie she preferred to wear at all times, Anastasia went to the office to find Thoma. She could have simply sent him a text of course, but she wanted to speak to him in person. It felt a little naughty, especially with Anatoly gone. Not that there was anything wrong, Anastasia was an adult and so was Thoma, it was just…well, she was fairly certain Anatoly would not approve. 

Thoma was working away at a computer, a pile of paperwork before him. While Anastasia didn’t have as many romantic notions as most people about the running of a criminal empire, she had thought there would be much less paperwork and careful bookkeeping involved. 

“Knock knock,” she said, rapping her knuckles on the doorframe. “Busy?”

Thoma looked up at her, then smiled, leaning back away from his keyboard. “Ah, Miss Anastasia. Never too busy for you.”

“I told you, in private it’s just Nastia,” she said, stepping into the room. On a sudden impulse, she pulled the door shut behind her, then stepped around the desk to peer at what Thoma was doing. 

He swiveled in his chair to face her, but gestured to the screen, where a spreadsheet of some sort was on one screen, a calendar on the other. Both were filled with important-looking notations. “Keeping myself busy, as you see. How is schooling Kollei going? I looked in on you earlier, it was quite cute seeing you play the schoolmarm.” 

Anastasia blushed despite herself. “Well, she’s quite the eager student. If anything, she works too hard. She’s in love with books though, I saw you reading to her last night. It sounded like Shakespeare.”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” Thoma confirmed. “She-”

He paused as Anastasia cleared off a space on the desk and sat down, her leg rubbing up against Thoma’s. He didn’t pull away, though he did frown and hastily rearrange the paper’s she’d moved. 

“That one’s a comedy, isn’t it?” Anastasia prompted. “With the faeries.”

“Yes, and the man who is turned into an ass. Shakespeare really only wrote two kinds of plays, so I picked one of the more lighthearted ones,” Thoma said as he ruffled through the papers, his eyes fixed on his work. 

“Oh? I thought he wrote comedies, tragedies, histories, dramas, the whole gamut?” Anastasia asked, rubbing her leg against Thoma’s to see if she could get a reaction. 

“As my teacher once told me, Shakespeare’s plays either end with everyone dead or everyone-” he cut himself off and cleared his throat, looking up at Anastasia. “Anyway, what was it you wanted to see me for?”

“Everyone what?” Anastasia prompted. She grinned when Thoma actually blushed. “Go on, everyone what?”

“Fucking,” Thoma admitted. “Er, on second thought, maybe the play isn’t terribly appropriate for Kollei. It’s, ah, one of the latter varieties.”

That made Anastasia laugh, and she hopped up, satisfied with the rise she’d teased out of Thoma. She held out her hand to him, and he rose, taking it. “I came to get you to escort us to lunch. I want you to take us to Khoroshiy Okhotnik. We could all use a break.”

“Mm, twist my arm, forcing me to take two beautiful girls to lunch,” Thoma laughed and offered his arm to Anastasia. 

She accepted it, then leaned against him, standing on her tiptoes to breathe into his ear. “Kollei might be a little girl still, Foma. But I am a woman.”

That time, she got a most satisfying blush out of him. She giggled, as if to ruin her own point, then leaned on his arm. Now if only she could find an excuse to get Thoma to take her to lunch on her own. 

Lunch at the cafe was as excellent as Anastasia remembered, and Kollei’s table manners were even improving: she and Thoma only had to gently remind the girl twice to not eat like a starving wolf, and she even used the proper spoon for her soup, though she did forget which fork with the salad. 

Thoma was studying a newspaper, which Anastasia considered to be terribly old-fashioned of him. It was endearing, but he was showing his age. Most people these days got their news on the Internet, which was much quicker and more reliable. 

“Any interesting news?” Anastasia asked, leaning in close to Thoma both to see what he was reading and to try to get another reaction out of him. 

“Yes, actually, here,” Thoma said, and held the paper out to her, leaning in slightly to her own embarrassment, but she refused to back down. 

The article in question was actually about the Tsaritsa, which wasn’t much of a surprise. She was all anyone was talking about these days, whether online or in person. The article was a glowing praise of her work rebuilding Mordovia, and there was even mention of Anatoly’s help financing the efforts.

Anastasia beamed at that, turning to Thoma with a grin. “Look, they even mention Tolyan!”

“Indeed, he’s getting the recognition he’s always craved,” Thoma agreed.

“What’s happening?” Kollei said, shoving her own face in, to  Anastasia’s disappointment. “What’s it say? I can read it!”

“It’s a bunch of propaganda by Baba Yaga. Not surprising it’s so eye-catching, though I didn’t expect that witch to switch sides so quickly.”

The mood shifted suddenly, and Anastasia clung to Thoma, her heart racing as he lowered the paper, a red barrier springing up around him and the two girls. Kollei, on the other hand, pulled out a very large knife, and was baring her teeth at the stranger who took a seat at the table uninvited. He was dressed well, in a fine, well-cut coat with a suit and tie underneath, and he had spectacles perked on his nose. He looked like an accountant, but Anastasia was willing to bet he was anything but.

“Grigory Lipovsky. It’s been some time,” Thoma said calmly, setting the paper to the side, but not lowering his barrier. 

“Thoma Rot. It has been a while. I would ask you to introduce me to Anastasia and…Kollei, isn’t it? But you know I would know that,” Grigory said, smiling. He raised a hand, and a waiter approached. “Tea, please. And some onion soup.”

The waiter glanced at the glowing barrier, swallowed, then nodded and hurried away. Anastasia doubted he would be back. 

“Thoma?” Anastasia asked, her heart pounding. 

After a long moment, the barrier dissolved, and Thoma smiled. “It’s fine, Miss Anastasia. Put the knife away, Kollei. This is Grigory Lipovsky, of the Red Gauntlet. You might know him as The Secretary.”

Anastasia swallowed, then slowly pulled her chair closer, then sat practically in Thoma’s lap. She had heard of the Secretary. He was the number two man in the Red Gauntlet and a powerful Thinker. She didn’t fully know what all his powers were, but he was said to be capable of reading minds, or at least close enough to it.

“No, I’m not a telepath,” Grigory said with a small smile. “My power is much more limited. Human minds are too messy to read easily anyway. Besides, I’m not here to fight. I’m not the man Vasili sends to do that. He’d send Ruvim or Agata for that. Or come himself. I’m just here to talk with an old acquaintance.”

“He’s a combat thinker. Reads bodies, not minds. Though he prefers to use his powers to gather information and sweet-talk people than he does exchange blows. Don’t play poker with him,” Thoma said quietly to Anastasia and Kollei, who still had not put away her knife. Then he turned to Grigory. “Your information is out of date for once.”

“Oh?” that seemed to take Grigory aback, enough that he leaned back to regard Thoma through his glasses. Then he smiled. “Ah. Something about you? Did you get a Vision too? No, I would have noticed.”

“It’s Thoma Krasnov now,” Thoma told him. “She changed my name.”

That did surprise Grigory, who blinked and shook his head. “I…see. She can do that, hmm? Of course she can, she’s an Archon. And you think…you think she’s a god.”

“She is a god! She saved me, and she’s going to save all of Russia!” Kollei said vehemently, jabbing towards Grigory with her knife.

“Kollei, put that away. It’s useless against him anyway,” Thoma told her. 

“Let the girl have her security blanket. Though it might delay my lunch,” Grigory said with a sigh.

Kollei glared first at Grigory, then Thoma, but put the knife in her jacket with a dark mutter of something that made the tips of Anastasia’s ears burn. Even if she did agree with the sentiment. 

“Now, Grigory. What do you wish to talk about?” Thoma said, taking Anastasia’s hand under the table and squeezing it reassuringly. She felt much safer with him here, though she was still frightened. This world of gods and monsters…it was not fit for a normal girl like her. 

“Come, Thoma. You are a man of intelligence. Your gift might not be a cognitive one, but you are no fool,” Grigory said with a smile, tapping a finger on the table. 

“This is about the Tsaritsa. And my brother,” Anastasia said, swallowing. “He’s done business with the Red Gauntlet before. That’s how you know Thoma.”

Grigory inclined his head to Anastasia. “Indeed. I see you are as wise as you are beautiful, Miss Karimosova. I am here to discuss this Tsaritsa. She seems to fancy herself ruler of Russia. The Red Gauntlet wishes to know more.”

“You’re not a fool, Grigory. Tell me, is she an Archon?” Thoma demanded with a snort of disgust.

Grigory shrugged. “My power does not let me discern truth, I learned that long ago. I can tell you believe it to be true, but alas, what men believe to be true is often not the same as what is actually true.”

“Then what do you believe to be true?” Anastasia demanded, unable to remain silent. 

“Ah.” Grigory titled his head back, then nodded thoughtfully. “A fair question. I suppose I must believe she is an Archon, though I do not entirely understand what they are. Let us say for now, she is a supremely powerful being, such that I find it likely she could slay an Endbringer. She battled Scion to a standstill, no? Why did she do that, anyway? He is Earth Bet’s second greatest hero.”

“Second Greatest? Then you acknowledge the Tsaritsa as the greatest?” Kollei asked eagerly.

That made Grigory chuckle. “Ah, no, child. Perhaps, one day, I will see that. But the greatest hero of Earth Bet is the one they call Nahida Saeed.”

“My mother is stronger than her!” Kollei bristled, but Thoma grimaced.

“He makes a fair point, at least for now. There is famine in the warmer regions of the world, not just because of the global blizzard, but because of forces like Ash Beast and the Endbringers. Not only did Little Lord Kusinali defeat the Simurgh with not a single life lost, but she freed the people of Iraq and is feeding a significant portion of the world.”

“You see, heroism is not merely combat strength. Were that the case, I might acknowledge the Endslayer of Nagasaki as the world’s greatest hero. For only the Angel of Munich has a claim to that particular feat alongside her, which while some may doubt, I do not,” Grigory said with a nod. “No offense to the Tsaritsa: she seems mighty. But she brought a global winter, and that concerns me. What is it she intends for Russia?”

“To make it so we’re no longer sick, and hungry, and weak,” Kollei said, making a fist. “To make it so that we’re no longer ignorant, and afraid. To make us strong. So that we no longer need fear ever again.”

“Hmm.” Grigory rubbed his chin, then brightened. He leaned back as a pale faced waiter hastily set out his soup and tea, then asked if anyone needed anything else.

“Dessert for my friends. Some of your cake, I think. The bill is on me,” Grigory said, smiling at Kollei. 

She had to wipe away a little drool at the mention of cake, and hastily nodded. “Yes, please.”

The waiter scurried off again, and Grigory took a few sips of tea and spoonfuls of soup in silence. He sighed, and nodded. “Excellent. You always did have good taste, Thoma.”

“It was Miss Anastasia’s idea,” Thoma said, nodding to her. “My tastes are simple, you know that.”

“If you say so. Well. I have talked enough business, I think. Let us enjoy the food,” Grigory said, as cakes were hastily brought out and placed before them. “Please, enjoy.”

The cake was good, but Anastasia found she had no appetite. Thoma didn’t even touch his, and they both ended up giving their pieces to Kollei, who eagerly devoured all the food. Anastasia feared the girl would end up fat, but she’d been so woefully underweight when Anatoly had brought her from Moscow that it would be some months yet before that was a real danger. 

Grigory made small talk, and Anastasia replied automatically, gossiping about various bits of news, and laughing at Thoma’s jokes. When Grigory was finished, he paid their bill, then stood. 

“You have given me much to think on. I will tell Vasili. He will come to a decision,” Grigory said, standing at the same time as Thoma, and offering his hand. 

“I hope he comes to a wise one. I’d hate to have to bury you. If the Tsaritsa left enough for that,” Thoma said with a laugh. Grigory laughed as well, but Anastasia didn’t need powers to see the tension in either man, or that their little joke was a little too deadly serious. She clung to Thoma’s arm tightly, forcing a smile on her face. 

“Ah, a word of advice, though?” Grigory said as they turned to leave. He leaned in close, lowering his voice so Kollei wouldn’t overhear. “When one sleeps with the boss's sister, it is wise to either get his blessing or dispose of him first. I see that you haven’t yet, but Anatoly always was a touchy one. I’d get that sorted out. I hear he’s a Vision holder now. It would make things interesting.”

Thoma stiffened. “I am a man of honor, Vasili. Do not be crude.” 

“If you were a man of honor, you wouldn’t be in this business,” Vasili said with a chuckle, then nodded to them and left. 

Anastasia found she had tears in her eyes, and was holding her breath. For a moment, she couldn’t see, then she felt a warm arm slip around her even as she clung to Thoma.

“It’s OK, I thought he was scary too. But Uncle Thoma kept us safe,” Kollei said. “Besides, I had my knife.”

Blinking, Anastasia made herself nod. “Yes, he did. Like a brave knight.”

That afternoon and into the evening, Anastasia threw herself into practice, working herself until she was sore and her toes were bleeding. She nearly collapsed, but made herself clean up and walked gingerly to her room. She dressed in one of her thinnest nightgowns despite the cold, then put a robe over it, and strode with confidence despite her bleeding feet to Thoma’s room. 

He was reading at his bedside, but stood when she entered. “Nastya, I-”

“You wouldn’t kill Anatoly, would you? Even for me?” she asked, slowly removing the robe and dropping it to the ground. She did her best to sashay over to Thoma, standing up on her tiptoes and reaching up to put her arms around his waist. However, he gently pushed her back, resting his hands on her shoulders. 

“Anastasia…”

“What? I told you, I am not a little girl anymore. I’ve seen how you look at me. For years now,” she said testily, her eyes meeting his.

He blushed but nodded. “I…I have long found you attractive. But I did not lie to Grigory.”

“He said you should tell Anatoly or dispose of him. Well to hell with him, I say. I am a grown woman, and you a man! We can do what we-”

“Nastya.” Thoma gently cupped Anastasia’s chin, and she felt hot tears on her cheek. He brushed them aside, then gently kissed her on the lips. She tried to lean in for more, but he pulled away. “I will not betray your brother’s trust. I am a man of honor. In my own way. And I am loyal to Tolny. He saved me from…well. From myself. And as much as I love you, I love him as a brother. Surely you don’t want to betray him either.”

Anastasia felt her throat swelling up, and she jerked a nod. “I’m scared,” she whispered. 

Thoma pulled her into a hug, and Anastasia buried her face in his chest. He smelled of sweat, but also of sandalwood and basil. It was a good, manly smell. It made her feel safe. Especially with Tolny gone.

“I will speak with your brother. We both will. But when he returns. Until then…I will be your faithful retainer. But no more.”

Biting her lip, Anastasia forced herself to nod, unable to meet Thoma’s eyes. “You must think me shameful.”

“I think you beautiful. Were I a weaker man…it would have been me in your room tonight.”

She looked up at him, feeling her heart flutter again. He smiled, and relief washed over her. “Then, will you…?”

He shook his head, picking up her robe, and putting it back on her shoulders. He squeezed, but gently guided her towards the door. “Soon, I hope, Nastya. My love. But not tonight.”

Oddly enough, he guided her back through the halls, not to her own room, but to Kollei’s. “Don’t try to sleep alone tonight. Kollei is stronger than she looks. She can help you. Perhaps not in the way you hoped, but it is better than being alone.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Anastasia agreed. She pulled her robe tighter about her and turned to go, only for Thoma to grab her by the shoulders and turn her back towards him. Her heart fluttered in her chest for a moment as he leaned down, then put his arms about her and kissed her firmly on the lips. By the time she fully realized what was happening, it was over. 

Thoma bowed to her, backing away. “Goodnight, my lady.”

Hugging herself, Anastasia opened the door to Kollei’s room. The younger girl was delighted to see her, and eagerly snuggled up. That night, Anastasia insisted on reading a love story, the Frog Princess. She smiled to herself at the story of Ivan Tsarevich and his enchanted bride, Vasilisa the Beautiful. Kollei seemed to prefer the part with the battle with Koschei the Deathless, especially how the forest animals helped. 

“Do you think the Tsaritsa could beat Koschei?” Kollei asked tiredly once the lights were out.

“Of course,” Anastasia agreed, snuggling up under the warm covers. Even in the house, the night was terribly cold, and sharing a bed was far from the worst idea. 

“Good. Then she can beat Scion too,” Kollei mumbled, then fell asleep.

Are we the little forest animals then? Anastasia’s tired mind though. Surely not. The Tsarita loved them. They weren’t just simple beasts to her.