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“Something troubles you.”
“That obvious, is it?” Natalia asked, hearing bitterness in her own voice. She released a breath and leaned out into the night, the rain falling onto her hair. It would cause it to distort itself and become unmanageable even after it was dry.
She did not like the rain.
“It is,” Virginia said, stepping out next to her. She should not. The moisture would ruin that dress, and it was the best of the masquerade. Natalia could not allow that to happen. “Since most would consider the evening a great success, your mood now means something happened during it.”
“You know what happened or you would not have come here.”
“Perhaps I have no more reason to be happy than you have,” Virginia said, and Natalia nodded. Stark was still missing, and Hawkeye's injuries and later his presence at her side had meant that he was not looking for his friend.
“I am sorry,” the queen told her. “I know you miss him.”
“I am not speaking of Stark.”
“Was he there in the masquerade? Did he kiss you under the cover of your masks?”
“No, but Hawkeye kissed you.”
Natalia shook her head. “He is playing a game, nothing more. It is not a romantic gesture, nor would it be. He intends to kill me, and he will. I do not know what makes him hesitate, but I know that he will. He cannot allow there to be no answer for his brother's death.”
“So you play games with each other instead of giving that answer?” Virginia asked. “You are both as contrary as the rain.”
“So we are,” Natalia agreed, leaning out into the water. “I do not want the rain, yet it follows me wherever I go. I bring nothing but misery with me. Misery and death.”
“That is not true. You have brought hope to us as our queen.”
“That is absurd.”
“So is the rain.”