“You’re not well enough.” I held back my wince. Steel entered Alexei’s features. His body. His will. “Not yet. But I will be.” And that was why he would have made a brilliant tsar. “They are likely sending him to trial in Moscow. Papa will leave tomorrow morning and we will follow once you are well.” I fixed him with a stern gaze. “The Bolshevik commandant thinks you’ll die. Survive so you can spit in his face.”
