Excerpt: The Amber Rose: A Novel of the Winterborn Empress

"Sonia, give me your hand."

Sophia held her hand out. Lady Mariya glared at the gloves she wore and then gave her a reproachful look. Sheepishly, Sophia removed it and put her out again. With trembling hands, Lady Mariya took a handkerchief from under her pillow and set it in the apprentice's hand.

"There is darkness over the Empire," said Lady Mariya, "and there are shadows in your heart. I wish I'd payed more attention to the latter than the former."

"I don't know what you mean," Sophia lied, and was immediately sorry for it.

The old woman's smile twisted bitterly. "I'm not stupid or blind, girl, and nor are you. But, never mind, the past is past. You remember the Imperial heir?"

Sophia nodded. Nadezhda, the little girl in the corner with the violet eyes. The screams from above their suite and that faint whiff of roast pork. Oh, yes, Sophia remembered all too well. Her hands clenched and one encountered something hard and cool under the hankie she gripped.

"Good." Lady Mariya nodded. "She needs you. And through her, the Empire needs you. Don't make the mistake I made. Don't be an idiot."

Sophia realized that Lady Mariya looked very gray and thin. Of course, she would, she was well past seventy and had been ill for so long. Add to that the fact that Dr. Berezutsky was forbidden to attend her and the doctor she probably had was probably a flaming imbecile and...

No. No, no. She couldn't die now. She'd served two Emperors and an Empress. Damn it, she swore she'd complete the set! And Sophia knew next to nothing about actually serving the Imperial House. A knife of anger rammed into her ribs and sliced her heart roughly in two. This wasn't right. This wasn't fair.

She opened the hankie. The rose glowed up at her in the candlelight. Its silver stem and leaves reflected her face and the deep blue of her suit. The amber bloom, caught the light and held it, warming it in its depths before releasing it, sun-colored and carrying the fragrance of the forest and the hearth.

"The oath." It wasn't a request.

"I can't," Sophia began.

"Now."

Sophia took the needle case that hung on her chatelaine and removed one. She stabbed her pinkie and held the gleaming red bead that welled up to the light.

"By Needle and spindle, by cloth and by thread, my life for my Country, until I lie dead."

A trick of the shadows, or maybe it was the magic that hung in the air here, always, turned the red a deep royal blue. She turned her hand and let it drip onto the handkerchief.

"Good girl." Lady Mariya sat back, her blue eyes suddenly dull and weary. "And now, tell me, will they be long digging my grave?"

"No, milady," said Sophia, the truth a relief for once, "I wanted to tell you before. The thaw has been on for weeks. It's summer now."

Lady Mariya brightened, her face like a saint's apotheosis. Her eyes closed and her smile widened. There was no way to avoid it now. Not even winter to could stop the Imperial Seamstress anymore. As she went still, Sophia leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"Goodbye, milady."