They Called Her the Miracle Worker

Natalia

A seed of suspicion had taken root in my mind, and it refused to be dislodged. Viktor’s recent displays of kindness were entirely out of character, setting my teeth on edge. He had even gone so far as to prepare a comfortable bed for Jace within my chambers, an act of thoughtfulness so foreign to him it felt like a trap. The man was capable of profound cruelty; I knew this as surely as I knew my own name. He harbored a deep-seated detestation for Jace, a fact he barely bothered to conceal. Why, then, would he expend any effort for the boy’s comfort unless a hidden motive was at play? It defied all logic. My unease only intensified as I observed the palace bustling with what appeared to be important figures. Viktor had mentioned no special occasion, and his silence on the matter was a glaring omission that screamed of deceit.

My apprehension spiked when Viktor himself came to wake me this morning. Lately, he had taken to personally escorting me from my room, forgoing the usual routine where maids would rouse me and prepare me for his summons. This time, however, there was a finality to his presence. He led me straight for the exit without a word.

"Wait," I managed, my heart beginning to hammer against my ribs. "What about Jace?" The terrifying thought that this was all an elaborate ruse to separate me from him, to finally enact some long-dreaded harm, seized me. If that were true, I was—

"He will not be touched," Viktor stated, his voice a flat, emotionless monotone. "The order concerning him has been rescinded for the next week and a half." With that, he guided me through a labyrinth of long hallways and up a seemingly infinite flight of stairs, finally halting before a massive, ornately carved door.

"What is happening?" I demanded, my eyes narrowing into slits. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face.

"I'm calling in that favor," he said, his voice smooth as polished stone. "For the entire day, you will cooperate. No arguments, no escape attempts, no… defiance." Fantastic. I had foolishly hoped he might forget that ill-conceived bargain. But a vow was a vow. I gave a reluctant, grudging nod. He swung the door open, propelling me inside a chamber where a dozen maids were fussing over a breathtaking white gown. A glacial chill washed over me, seeping into my very bones. What had I just agreed to?

"Remember your promise, Natalia," Viktor’s voice followed me into the room, a chilling reminder as several maids detached from the dress and converged on me. "You swore you would behave for the entire day." They began to pull and guide me toward what I assumed was a bathing chamber. A silent scream built in my throat. I wanted to shriek that he had tricked me, to weep in despair, to snatch a bucket of black paint and defile the pristine white fabric of that gown. But I had given my word. A promise was a promise, and I was caught in its snare.

Viktor departed, presumably to attend to his own preparations. The servants descended upon me, scrubbing, grooming, and painting me with a meticulous attention I had never before witnessed. They coiffed my hair into an elaborate style, placed a glittering tiara upon my head, and draped a delicate, shimmering veil over my face before easing me into the magnificent white dress. In that moment, the final, horrifying piece of the puzzle clicked into place. I was being forced into a marriage, most likely to Viktor himself. What have I done? Why did I ever make such a foolish offer? I should have stopped pushing, should have abandoned the game! I’m not old enough for this! I’m only eighteen! My life is supposed to be ahead of me, not ending today! A wedding should be a decade from now, not forced upon me like this! He had duped me completely.

"Breathe, my lady," one of the maids murmured softly at my side. A pang of longing for Morgan struck me so fiercely it nearly brought me to my knees. She would have known what to do. I drew a shuddering breath, forcing the air in and out, in and out, a desperate rhythm against the rising tide of panic. It was going to be a very long day. I tried to wrench my thoughts onto another track, anything to stave off the hysteria.

Oh, gods. Jace. What would he do all day? He would be so dreadfully bored! I myself would despise being left alone with nothing to occupy my time.

Viktor

The wedding ceremony was still several hours away, but Viktor had initiated Natalia’s preparations early. He was well-acquainted with the extensive time ladies required for such affairs. The more pressing matter, however, was the logistical problem of the street rat. Even Viktor acknowledged the inherent risks of leaving a child unattended for a prolonged period. While he wouldn't normally spare a thought for the rascal’s well-being, ensuring Natalia believed Jace was safe and occupied would minimize her potential for dissent after the day’s events. He coveted a peaceful honeymoon in the coming days, and that would be impossible if she was constantly pestering him about the brat’s welfare.

Viktor loathed liars and made a point to avoid outright falsehoods whenever possible. Therefore, if he arranged a genuine distraction for the boy, he wouldn’t have to lie.

He entered Natalia’s chambers, his steps silent. The boy was a small lump curled on his cot, right beside Natalia’s empty bed.

"Rascal," he rumbled, his voice a low, harsh whisper. He watched with detached interest as the small form stirred, slowly coming awake. When the boy’s eyes finally opened, Viktor was pleased to see a flicker of fear ignite within them as they darted around the room, undoubtedly searching for Natalia. "She is not here," he stated calmly, allowing a cruel smile to touch his lips. "In fact, you will not be seeing her for quite some time." He savored the wave of panic that washed over the child’s face, the boy likely believing he’d been abandoned to his fate. A pity that wasn’t the truth, Viktor mused.

He knew he was treading on delicate ground where the rat was concerned. Natalia’s willingness to slice open her own arm to secure medical treatment for the boy had made that abundantly clear. "Come," he commanded. The boy’s eyes widened, and he promptly pulled the blankets over his head as if to vanish. The utter terror the rat felt in his presence was morbidly amusing; perhaps he should keep the creature around purely for entertainment. With a sigh of impatience, Viktor strode to the cot and yanked the boy out from under the covers, observing dispassionately as the child struggled feebly against his iron grip.

He carried his squirming burden from the room and navigated the castle toward the slave quarters, situated on the opposite side of the estate. After Natalia’s recent outburst regarding the female slave, he had taken meticulous precautions to ensure she would never venture near this area again. Her inevitable tantrum was a headache he had no desire to endure for a week.

Upon reaching the dingy barracks, he shoved the boy toward the nearest slave. "This rascal is a ward of my soon-to-be wife; she is fond of him. See to it that he is cared for over the next week." Leaving the slave quarters behind, he proceeded to the armory to find Mikael, his master-at-arms and one of his most formidable fighters.

"Mikael," he announced, "for the next week, you will instruct my wife’s ward in the proper methods of her defense." If he was going to allow the rascal to live, he might as well make him useful. His preferred emergency decoy was gone with the maid, and he required a replacement should the need arise. Since Natalia rarely let the boy out of her sight, this was a logical substitute. After all, experience had taught him never to underestimate a child. It was a lesson his own father had learned the hard way—that and the fact that being your son doesn't preclude a man from usurping you.

From the armory, Viktor made his way to his own apartments. Markus was already there, his own wedding attire laid out neatly on the bed.

"You know," Markus began with a wry smile, "if it weren't for that prophecy, I suspect you would have remained a bachelor for all eternity. Or at least until the Council forced your hand." Viktor let out a short laugh. Markus was one of the very few men he considered a friend, one of the few he trusted implicitly.

"Women are a nuisance," Viktor remarked, "especially a slip of a girl who has yet to finish growing, either physically or mentally." Now it was Markus's turn to chuckle.

"I genuinely believe you've developed an unwitting affection for the girl, Viktor. The tragedy is, you refuse to see it."

Viktor shot him a glare. "I feel no affection for the brat. She is spoiled, petulant, and childish—"

"Blah, blah, blah," Markus cut in. "I've heard this speech a million times. But we both know that if anyone else had defied you in such a manner, Jace would have been dead in an instant. You let her keep the boy because you thought she'd appreciate the company, especially since you permit her to spend significant time with no one but you and Morgan." His voice softened on the last part. "I know you don't care, but I was not pleased to hear of your plans for Morgan, nor about how you nearly harmed Natalia in the process."

"And? Your point?" Viktor countered dismissively. "You would have gained a new plaything for your trouble."

"That's no way to treat women, Viktor. I understand they may lack the strength or station of men, but they are still people. Just like the villagers, the servants, and—"

"—and the slaves," Viktor finished for him, his tone bored. "Yes, I am aware."

"Then why do you persist in treating most of them like dirt? As if they mean nothing to you?"

"Because it is entertaining," Viktor replied, a chilling grin spreading across his face. "To watch them scrabble and fall. To watch them climb over one another for the promise of power or coin. To watch them betray their own kin for a loaf of bread."

"I will always be your friend, Viktor, but that doesn't mean your worldview unnerves me any less." Viktor knew Markus harbored a foolish belief that Natalia would somehow change him, as if she could possibly accomplish such a feat.

"Enough," Viktor said sharply. "I have a wedding to prepare for, Markus. You wouldn't want me to be late for my own nuptials, would you?" He began to dress. Though Markus's moralizing irritated him, he knew his friend's acceptance was a rare gift. Even his own parents had not afforded him that. The fools. They had whined that he was growing too powerful. He had certainly shown them. For a fleeting moment, he wondered how they were faring in the afterlife, and just how many new ways they had found to curse his name.