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Zoya’s gown was a low-cut sapphire blue, glittering as the light caught on the beads of her skirt. Her hair was styled to one side, loose black curls cascading down her shoulder, held in place by hairpins. She was radiant, if not for the hollowness she felt inside, the dullness of her eyes.
Fortunately, no one would pay attention to her eyes as long as they were staring at her plunging neckline. Practical as ever.
And maybe she wanted to outdress the bride. Just a little bit.
It was almost disappointing when Nikolai didn’t seem to notice. She knew he had other things on his mind, pacing the floor when she entered his chambers, a deep frown on his face – yet, she’d hoped to garner some sort of reaction. It was like begging for scraps that would never satisfy her, and she felt angry at herself all over again. She was above begging.
But he asked her here. And when he looked at her, his eyes just a little wild, every reminder to repress and deny that she spent so long internalizing flew out the window. She was a stupid lonely girl again, preparing to watch the man she loved marry someone else.
“Zoya,” he breathed, her name a hopeless sigh on his lips. He didn’t seem to notice her attire, only that she was here. “I don’t want to do this.”
There it was. She knew he had his reservations about a political marriage, idealistic Nikolai and his desire to marry for love, but she thought he had accepted his duty when he proposed to marry the Shu princess himself. He’d mentioned nothing of it since, donning a graciously resigned approach, a self-sacrificing king, and Zoya wondered if he truly made his peace. He made sure to be kind to his bride, taking her on walks in the palace gardens, eating with her in his chambers in the morning; a fact Zoya tried to begrudgingly accept. Nikolai didn’t want to be enemies with his wife, and she didn’t wish him an unhappy marriage. But seeing Nikolai slowly replace her in his life stung.
She hadn’t realized how much she relied on their small routines until she lost them.
Now she realized his acceptance was all an act. A king was always acting – but no part of Nikolai truly made peace with this.
And what was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to appease him? Tell him he could do it, that he had to? Tell him Ravka needed it? Nikolai already knew that. That was not what he wanted to hear from her.
She didn’t know what he wanted, in truth. He knew she would not coddle him, would not sugarcoat it for him. What then? Did he want her to give him a stern speech? Did he want her to smack him upside the head and yell at him that he could not, will not call off the wedding a mere hour before it began?
She was so, so tired of telling him he had to marry. So tired of ignoring the painful twist of her heart, denying the quickening of her pulse. It was not fair that the stability of Ravka meant never having one of the few things she wanted for herself.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she hissed, steel in her voice. Anger was familiar. Easier than entertaining thoughts that made her chest hurt. It was hard enough to watch this happen, did she really have to convince him to go through with it too? “You know you have to.”
“I have to marry a woman I don’t want, don’t love, doesn’t love me, is that what I have to do?”
“For your people and your country? Yes, you do.”
It was like he didn’t hear her. Nikolai stepped forward, gripping her arm, Zoya’s breath catching at the unexpected proximity. The anguish in his eyes hurt her more than she cared to admit; she didn’t want this for him, and not only because she loved him. She hated to see his misery.
“I need a reason,” he said, his gaze boring into hers, searching for something. The excuse he needed, perhaps. “I need – Tell me not to marry her. Tell me you don’t want me to.”
Of course, she didn’t. But it didn’t matter what she wanted. Or who she wanted. How could she put herself above Ravka, above the Grisha who needed her? Was she supposed to just take what she wanted like the Darkling? With no consideration to anything or anyone? Was that what she was supposed to do?
The ancient beast stirred inside her.
Take what you want. You’re more than capable.
Zoya shook herself out of it and pushed the dragon back inside the cage she put him in. No. She would not give in.
“You need a queen,” she said simply, neither accepting nor refusing his request.
And why would he care anyway? Was he so desperate for a reason, an excuse? If he thought she would give him an out, he was sorely mistaken – she wouldn’t validate his delusions.
“I already have one.”
She sucked in a breath and moved away on instinct. Nikolai’s hand fell from her arm limply, its absence burning.
He doesn’t mean it. He just wants to get out of this. He doesn’t mean it like that.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Nikolai,” she snapped again, sharper than before. “This isn’t a game. You’re a king, act like it.”
She knew she wounded him, but it was for the best. He drew back, nodding a couple of times, like telling himself she was right. His posture was all wrong, defeated and slouching. So uncharacteristically unsure. She may have wished to knock his ego down a couple of times during their partnership but now she hated it, wished for his easy confidence and nonchalant arrogance back. Nothing would be the same after this, would it?
“Of course,” he murmured, painfully resigned. “I understand.”
She thought she should say something but soft, reassuring words weren’t part of her vocabulary, even if it hurt to see him like this. They got stuck in her throat and cut her up inside. A bleeding mess of a girl stood in her place.
Nikolai turned away to fiddle with his jacket in the mirror, a gentle but obvious dismissal, and Zoya took her cue. She walked away with a terrible feeling in her gut that she was missing something.
The ceremony was grand as anyone would expect it. No detail out of place, no extravagance spared – no matter their financial struggles. It would be unseemly for the young king of Ravka to have anything but a pompous wedding; after all, he would only have one. By now, Zoya didn’t care about the unnecessary excesses of it all. She just wanted it over with. She watched Nikolai standing at the altar, waiting for his bride to be, none of the signs of distress from earlier displayed on his handsome face. A small mercy, at least. He couldn’t very well look miserable in front of hundreds of their guests.
Eyes of both men and women followed Zoya as she stood to the side with Genya and David, but it hadn’t felt as satisfying as she thought it would. She always looked breath-stopping, that was nothing new. It was boring. Why did she think outshining the bride mattered at all; it changed nothing. Perhaps she would have cared more if she didn’t only have eyes for Nikolai. A small wistful and childish part of her thought she would not give a damn if no one ever looked her way twice, as long as Nikolai did.
But these kinds of thoughts belonged to a blushing gentle lady, not a commander loyal to her king. Zoya did her best to dismiss them.
I’m letting you go, she thought, stubborn and willful and determined. His back was to her when Ehri walked down the aisle towards him and placed her hands in his. I’m letting you go.
You’d give him up so readily?
He isn’t mine to keep, she replied then, but maybe he was, a little bit.
Standing beside him, always a soldier at his side. Now she was standing behind him, disconnected. He was close, yet it felt like they were miles apart. I’m letting you go, she repeated once more, squeezed her fists, and tried to believe it. They never could have been anything, it wasn’t – when Nikolai called her his queen, he was desperate. Exaggerating. Anything to get out of this marriage he never wanted.
Perhaps he hadn’t even realized what he was implying.
But if – if he meant it? If he longed for her like she longed for him, if he loved her like she –
Useless thoughts, she reminded herself, but it was hard to watch this. Harder than she thought. No amount of rationalizing had prepared her for this in the end. She should have said yes, should have told him not to marry her. He’d asked her, he’d begged her. Why hadn’t she? Selflessness or fear? Both?
She couldn’t watch this.
And what? she barked at herself, angry at these thoughts. What? You’ll interrupt the ceremony now? Right here in front of everybody? Hundreds of guests gathered from everywhere, and you’ll pour your heart out and beg him to marry you, or at least not marry her? As if, she scoffed.
But wouldn’t that be a story for the ages? the dragon in her snickered.
She ignored it. Just keep your head up and hold your tongue; suffer in silence. It was almost over.
Was it? something dark echoed inside her. The ceremony will be over and then came the celebrations: the music, the dancing, the cake, the toasts, the jokes about the wedding night and the little heirs Ehri will eventually bear. You’ll go back to your chambers and he’ll go back to his bed that he shared with his wife to perform his marital duty. Then you’ll wake up and he’ll eat breakfast with his wife and dine with his wife and go to sleep with his wife, and you’ll see him during meetings and discussions and nothing more. You’ll be nothing, maybe friends, if that. And Ehri will give him children, little golden boys like Nikolai, and you’ll wonder, always pining, for what could have been. It was never going to be over.
Her chest felt tight and she couldn’t breathe. It felt a little like dying, and abruptly, she didn’t think she could do this for the rest of her life. Despise your heart. If only it was that easy.
“Nikolai,” she gasped under her breath, but no one heard her. She spoke up again, louder, and now he turned to look at her as the priest paused in his speech, glancing up from his book. “Nikolai.”
He looked at her cautiously, wondering.
What are you doing?
There was a hush in the church that was deafening, and she felt the stares of everyone on her, waiting, like the calm before a storm. Genya was stiff beside her and David shifted awkwardly on his feet. But Zoya could only see Nikolai, her eyes pleading, apologetic, desperate, a little ruined. His hand fell from Ehri’s and there was a distant gasp and murmurs from the wedding crowd.
Choose me.
She didn’t speak but he never broke their gaze, and she saw his eyes grow wide as he seemed to lean an inch towards her. In that moment, she thought he understood.
Choose me. Love me.
Ehri cleared her throat and the spell was broken. Nikolai snapped his gaze back to his bride and Zoya felt the air leave her lungs in a whoosh as her heart shattered. The room was suddenly buzzing with whispers, every pair of eyes trained on her, making her skin crawl. Stupid little girl, they seemed to say. Did you think he would choose you? She felt ridiculous. Too young, too foolish.
What the hell were you thinking? she berated herself, furious. You know better. You don’t act like this.
Why didn’t you commit to it? wondered the dragon in contrast. You limit yourself too much.
Zoya breathed in and out slowly, attempting to compose herself. Steel your heart, straighten your spine, lift your chin. Eyes cold and emotionless. Ignore the stares of everyone around you. You could do this. The show had to go on.
Then the church doors blew open and everything went to chaos.