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When my tutor asked me where I saw myself in ten years, my twelve-year-old self answered something along the lines of pursuing higher education in Ketterdam University and occasionally taking trips to The Grand Palace to annoy Nikolai, a prince of my age whom I was often forced to study with to promote ‘friendly competition’— whatever that meant, about being forever his older brother, Vassily’s shadow.
Ten years later and I don't think I'll be fulfilling the latter any time soon for very unfortunate reasons, including Vassily’s untimely death.
Instead, I'm sitting on a velvet blue chair on the other end of the King’s newly-polished marble table, which felt comically long, by the way. Instead, I abandon my shame and face the boy who I was now obligated to call the Tsar. Instead, I was here in Os Alta to make a proposal. Literally. Because in the next few seconds, I would be asking Nikolai Lantsov, the Tsar of Ravka and the reason for the many wrinkles in my forehead, to...
"Marry me."
I say it with my whole chest as if I was simply barking out orders at a palace servant, "Or, at the very least, pretend like you want to marry me."
We are both rendered speechless by what I had just said, and our silence is as uncomfortable as a sock rolling halfway down a shoe-clad foot.
There’s a subtle look of shock present on his face before quickly schooling it back to something a little more controlled, "Little bossy coming from somebody who wants my hand in marriage, no?"
Huffing, I sink back into the chair, "Pretend hand in marriage."
Silence falls on us again, but this time Nikolai has his brows knitted, trying to figure out why'd I want to do this in the first place. After all, we've spent the better half of our mortal lives in a catfight. It could've been counted as a childhood rivalry, yes, but unfortunately, Nikolai and I are both destructively competitive, much so that what was once a quarrel between 9-year-olds over simple geography and literature became a fight between 22-year-olds (who both have much better things to do) over politics and pride.
It takes a good minute before he gives up, striding across the floor to get to my seat. He sighs, planting a hand in front of me as he leans into the marble, "You've got me again, princess. Go, elaborate."
"Parents want to marry me off to this Fjerdan boy, and he's terribly stupid and arrogant." The words pass through my gritted teeth, "I am a scholar at Ketterdam University, Lantsov. Royalty, at that. I can't get married to a man who lowers the intelligence of the whole room every time he talks."
Nikolai licks his lips, nodding in amusement. He's clearly enjoying the predicament I'm in. Bastard. Chances are, he'd reject the deal just to see how it plays out, "Watching the boy annoy you to your wit's end would be fun—entertaining, even. I'd throw a ball every two weeks just to see how you’re holding up. Perhaps I could learn from him.”
"Ha-ha. You're predictable, Nikolai."
"But also, I have to say, the idea of you being cross at somebody that isn't me is making me a little jealous." He moves forward, tilting the bottom of my chin with the pad of his finger, “I think I should be the only one to see this little scowl of yours.”
What?
I could feel my breath hitch from his comment. "What do you mean?" I stab a finger at his chest. I’m making a move to get out of the seat, hopefully covering the red coming up on my ears, "Look, if you aren't going to take this seriously, I might as well just lea-”
I'm startled when he grabs at my hand to stop me from moving away from him any further, his thumb smoothing over my wrist, "It means I'm interested, darling. What's in it for me?"
Nikolai gently pushes me back down on my seat, and I do the impossible: I oblige, "I hear Ravka’s coffers are nearly empty, and with everything going on, I know you need the money I’m offering you. What’s inside those coffers won't be able to support the people and those little pet projects you have.”
He scowls at the comment, “Huh.”
"If you accept my offer, I’d be willing to fund you. I mean it, every personal project you need the money for. I earn more than what I need and the exchange rate between kruge and Ravkan money is good.” I bite at the bottom of my lip, smiling as if assured he’d take the deal, “You’re smart as a whip, Nikolai. You’d get more benefit out of this than I would.”
His ears seem to have perked up at my last statement, immediately turning his head to meet with my eyes. His expression is melting into something cocky as if telling me he’d already figured me out. “I’m an ethical person, princess.” He shakes his head, sucking on his teeth, “I don't take offers where I get more than the other, and you don't make offers that put you at a disadvantage.”
I scoff, “Oh, my. Is Nikolai Lantsov willing to put morality over coin? Did coming back to court soften you up?” His eyes are boring straight into my soul at every word I spit out, “You’re a privateer, Nikolai. You took what you could get.”
His tone, however kind and sincere it sounded, was filled with stinging poison, “Correct. Privateers took what they could get, but I am a king now, and kings get whatever they desire.”
I cross my legs, smoothing over the wrinkles on my dress, “What’s your point, Nikolai?”
“You obviously have some sort of plan under this fake relationship proposal, and I’m trying to fish it out of you. There isn't any way you’d let me get so much in exchange for so little.” He kicks the leg of my seat so that I’m forced to face him, “So, it’s either we play this stubborn game of ours a little longer, or you just tell me what it is.”
If there was one thing worth noting about Nikolai, apart from his freakishly good looks and his sunlight hair that just has to be styled to perfection, it was that he was observant with anybody and everybody. He had such a keen eye that by the ripe age of 15, he could tell whenever I was lying or hiding something. The catch is? I don't have a tell. Or at least I think I don’t. I once looked him dead straight in the eyes, stating a lie so coherent it could've easily been the truth, and yet, he flashed me his childish, toothy grin, and pointed out my lie.
Not even my own sisters or my own governesses knew how to figure me out, and the fact that Nikolai did never failed to get under my skin.
Slightly on edge, I mask my nervousness with a snarky comment, “Can never get anything past you, can’t I?
“So?”
“My papers are based on the theology of the Ravkan saints. The books I need for research are in the Apparat’s possession, as well as a bunch of scrolls from the palace’s restricted library.” I shrug, “Thought I’d have an easier access if I had a direct relation to you and the palace.”
Clearly pleased with my answer, Nikolai lightly taps on my cheek, the gloves’ leather rough against my skin, “That wasn't so hard, no?”
His gloved hands are stuffed back into the pockets of his coat as he walks back to his own seat, and I hope they sweat so bad that they stain through both his ridiculously expensive gloves and his ridiculously expensive coat. Insolent little peacock.
Nikolai is now clearly evaluating the deal I've given him, judging by the furrowed eyebrows and with constant nibbling of his bottom lip. He’s back in his seat from across the table, bouncing his knee ever so slightly. His actions are making me weirdly anxious even though I was confident he’d strike up the deal, and I imagine I've turned blue, vis-à-vis lack of breathing.
"You’re going to get a deal, but on one condition.” He pauses before his lips curl up into a little Cheshire grin. "You have to say please."
—
Three weeks from now, our first plan would be set in motion. A massive party for the nobilities and the merchants to mingle amongst their pretentious little selves would be held inside the Grand Palace, right in the heart of Ravka. My family, of course, would be invited to see their youngest daughter hanging off the arm of the king.
Very fortunately, I was allowed by the university to take a month-long vacation to Ravka, where I’d settle into a guest’s chambers every night. This new arrangement would ease the other people in the palace into our very fake relationship, however, it would mean that I’d have to spend every waking hour in his presence. That wasn't something I was looking forward to, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. However, Nikolai was a king—a tremendously busy one, at that— and it wasn't as if he’d go out of his way to spend time with his pretend girlfriend whom he surely hated: me.
I assume we are in Os Alta from the way my carriage ride goes from rattling to smooth. With this, I packed up the book inside my purse, and opened the carriage curtains to reveal the pinnacle of all gaudy monstrosities Ravkan architecture has birthed, the Grand Palace, and waiting for me in the entrance is Nikolai—
Wait. Huh?
Nikolai?
Why’s he there?
“You gonna get down from there or you want me to carry you out?” Nikolai is leaning against the frame of the carriage door, “Hi, princess.”
I frown, taking his offered hand as I climb out, “What are you doing here?”
“Might come off as a shock, but I actually live here.” He answers, pure sarcasm seething out of his tongue. His other hand moves from behind his back, revealing a bouquet of snowdrops and native Ravkan flowers, all tied between fine strings of twine, “I sure hope you still like snowdrops.”
I take it from his hand. Given his track record, it wasn't all too surprising that Nikolai knew the basics of making bouquets look coherent and appealing, but he didn’t need to know that. He was plenty good in many other things already, “Not really your talent, is it? Flower arrangements?”
“And acting like a besotted little princess certainly isn't yours.” Nikolai pauses, gesturing to the multiple people around us, “A thank you would suffice.”
I look around, facing the palace servants and a few grisha looking at us with clear intent to figure out why the princess of Novyi Zem was here, and I remember that I was here to be his fake girlfriend, and not to annoy Nikolai into ripping out his hair,
“Thank you,” I mumble begrudgingly.
“Thank you… what?” He raises his eyebrows at me, waiting for an endearment.
I try not to throw up in my mouth, “Thank you, solnyshko.” I made a move to walk away into the doors, but I couldn’t get any farther away with Nikolai’s hand gripping on my waist, pulling me right back to him. A small gasp escapes my lips when his hands find their way on the small of my back, tracing circles while my hands are placed flat on his chest to stop myself from crashing into him.
Nikolai lowers his head and presses a kiss on my temple, whispering, “Try not to act so repulsed, princess, disgust doesn’t look that good on you.”
—
It’s been four days and we have not spent a single hour together. Normally, being away from Nikolai was something to be celebrated, but right now, I was his fake girlfriend, and his fake girlfriend did not enjoy the pity stares and gossip she was receiving from the servants and the grisha. Poor, naive princess waiting for the busy king’s attention.
Until now.
Nikolai has invited me to dine with him and his friends tonight, and he seems excited about this, even doing as much as sending a personalized dress and pieces of emerald jewelry to my room. I find myself arriving earlier than what was said in the card, and Nikolai, ever so punctual, is alone on one of the chairs with a bouquet right next to him. He’s deep in thought and tapping his fingers on the table in a song I’m not very familiar with when I arrive. Nikolai shakes sober when he sees me, eyes scanning everything from my head to my toes, “Hi.”
“Well, hello.” I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at him, “Finally decided to talk to me, have you?”
“You’ve been waiting?” He’s grinning wicked, head lazily propped on his hand, “I know you’ve missed me, princess, but you don’t have to make it so obvious.
Nikolai doesn’t have to stare to notice that today I’m not in the best mood today.
He earns an eye roll from me when I chuck the bouquet out of his hand, “I miss not being the recipient of all the hot palace gossip, that’s what.” I scrutinize the flowers a little longer, “Good saints, Nikolai, these are wilted. Is this how you treat your lady?”
“Judging by the beautiful gown I had made for her and the jewelry hanging from her neck, I think I treat my lady quite well.” Nikolai gestures to the variety of beverages on the table, “A drink, darling?”
“What are my choices?”
“Yes or no.”
Sighing, I answer, “Whatever you’re having.”
Our conversation is cut short by the doors creaking, entering now are Nikolai’s friends. I’m glad to see familiar faces, namely Zoya and Genya who frequently visit Ketterdam to see me, and apparently some guy who runs the Crow Club downtown. The night is young, and while we eat, Genya makes small talk to entertain the group, “I hear Nikolai’s invited you to stay for the month, leading up to the party. What for?”
Nikolai is quick to answer, “We’re finally making it official to her family.”
Everybody has stopped their movements, either shocked or in the middle of processing the information. Did he not tell them beforehand?
“Official?” Tamar asks.
“We’re dating.”
Genya lifts an eyebrow, inquisitive, “You’ve been packed these last few days, Nikolai. Why didn't you tell us your girl was here? We could have cleared up your schedule!” She turns to me, “I hope he’s been spending enough time with you.”
“Well, he hasn't had the time to talk to me, let alone spend a few moments together.” I answer, plastering an obviously fake smile to get my point across, “But what can we do? Kolya has precious things occupying his day and it’s only unfortunate I’m not included.”
I see from the side of my eye that he’s seething with anger, hiding it under rapid slicing of the knife on his steak. It was only a matter of seconds before he talked, “If you didn't give me a headache every time you opened your mouth, maybe I would have made an effort to actually spend time with you.”
Oh.
I hear gasps from around the table, even from David, who has kept to himself all evening. The utensils dropping on the porcelain plates make screeches and clangs. Zoya is furious, brows furrowed with her tongue biting her cheek and Genya is constantly looking over at me to see how I would react.
I smile. A tight-lipped, tired smile.
Without a second thought, I abruptly get up from my chair. It makes a scandalous little screech that garners the attention of everybody in the room, including Nikolai’s, who is looking at me with a mixed expression of regret and anger.
“I don't wish to make your busy night harder for you, moi tsar. Have a good night, everybody.”
—
It’s deep into the ungodly hours of the night when I hear another knock from my door. I’ve been left to soak up my emotions, namely anger. Exhausted, I think of feigning sleep to let the person realize I wouldn't be getting up soon, but I do the opposite anyway, “A second, please!” I say, slipping on a silk robe.
When I nudge the door open, it reveals Nikolai. Just great. Perfect.
“Can I come in?”
I decide to indulge in pettiness so I don’t say a word, only gesturing with my head.
He settles on leaning on my vanity table, taking a deep breath before softly letting out, “What’s wrong with you?” Nikolai doesn’t wait for an answer, “How are we supposed to be believable if you act like that when somebody even looks at us?”
“Look at us? They barely see us together, Nikolai.”
“They finally saw us together three hours ago and what did you do?” He works his jaw, “The moment you got an opportunity to talk about our arrangement and convince them we’re real, you tell every person with an ear to lend about how your own partner doesn’t give you the time of day.”
Nikolai is off my vanity, walking towards me until I’m forced to take slower steps backward. His breathing is ragged and it’s obvious he’s trying his very best to stop whatever anger is boiling in his blood.
“How am I at fault here? The last time I checked, I wasn’t the one who let their partner have no company at all for four days.” I let a finger jab into his shoulder, “Have you heard the gossip, Nikolai? The servants all think I’m some stupid princess who forced her way into the castle for you to start giving me attention, and you’re making it all too real for them.”
“Tell me, then, smart girl. How was I supposed to react when you told them you think it’s unfortunate you weren’t important enough to occupy my day?”
“You were supposed to act your part as the charming king, telling his lady that he’d take time off for her and coddle her up until she was practically melting in his arms. You’re used to swooning people into taking a bullet for you, so what’s not clicking?”
Nikolai doesn’t say or do anything, instead, he walks closer and closer until my back hits the wall next to the door, eyes boring into me as if I’d committed a terrible crime until his expression breaks into something I was so very familiar with. He’s relaxed his jaw to give way to a forced smile like he’s clearly figured out what to do with me. I’m hoping it isn’t murder.
“You want my attention, princess? Fine.” He plants a hand above my head, he smells of brandy and that one ridiculously expensive perfume he likes so much and it’s overwhelming my senses. Has he been drinking? At this hour? How irresponsible. “Oh, you’ll get my attention alright.”
The way he’s towering over me is enough for my voice to catch on my throat, and I don’t say anything until I manage to get a small croak of, “Good.”
I can see his eyes flickering from mine to my lips before he turns away, reaching for the doorknob, “I’ll have handmaidens here by seven in the morning to prepare you.”
“What for?”
Nikolai sneaks a glance back at me, and the faint ghost of a smirk is on his lips, “You wanted attention, didn’t you?”
—
Right on the chime of the morning bell, about 12 handmaidens enter my room, Genya making her way in last. I see them carrying boxes, which I can only assume are dresses, and my suspicions are proven when they lay them out on the table, revealing gorgeous fabrics of various colors and embellishments. “I saw Nikolai make his way to your room late last night. Must’ve done more than just reconcile if you’re still asleep at this time.” she lifts a brow suggestively, poking at my arm.
“Give me a break, Genya. It’s like seven in the morning.” I groan out, trying to block out the light from the windows, “What’s with all the dresses?”
“The king had them made just for you.” Genya drags me by the arm, “Now, get up, because you have to meet with him in exactly two hours, and Nikolai does not like to wait.”
True to her word, Nikolai was waiting in his private dining hall at nine in the morning, “Hi, pretty. I see you’re wearing the dress I sent you.”
I shrug, taking a seat across from him. The scene is dramatically similar to when we made our deal, and I stifle a laugh at how stupid we must look: begrudgingly sitting across from each other with daggers for eyes, “What are you planning, Nikolai?”
“I’ve taken time off from my kingly duties, and I’m planning to coddle my lady until she practically melts in my arms.” He directly quotes me from last night, sending over a mischievous grin, “Since she wanted the attention so bad, today she’ll find her fill of it.”
He certainly wasn’t lying.
Nikolai’s brought me around the Little Palace, parading me around the most crowded of hallways and courtyards with his hand settled on my waist, squeezing on it ever so lightly when somebody greets us. He tells the trainers he’s in here to overlook how the new training regiment is performing but spends more time planting kisses on my head and fixing my hair than actually looking at his Grishas train. It’s obvious he’s overplaying his role, out of spite or not, but after yesterday, I’m sure I shouldn’t be in any position to complain.
When we are asked to join them for lunch, Nikolai doesn’t hesitate to take them up on their offer, immediately following them onto the dinner hall. Two seats up front are reserved for us, and he pulls my chair closer to his when I sit down, “Princess, how far are you from melting in my arms?”
Near, actually. I’m not the most used to public affection and I’m one forehead kiss away from fainting into the cold, dark earth, but Nikolai didn’t need the satisfaction of knowing he’d put me into such a condition.
“Very far. I feel bad for your future wife if this was your best shot at it.”
He laughs, “You’re damn hard to please, aren’t you? This isn’t enough coddling for you?”
I never liked acknowledging that Nikolai’s smile was pleasant to look at, so I turn away from him when I sip into my glass of kvas, “You did say I was hard to please.”
“Then, I hope this’ll suffice.”
Nikolai pulls me into him and presses a kiss on my mouth, and all of my senses are focusing on him and him only. I can feel him smiling into it, his fingers splayed out on my waist, and perfume’s scent is rendering me weak in my knees.
I try to shake myself sober from the desire to pull him in, instead placing a hand on his chest to push him away lightly. I can see him shift his gaze from me to the crowd of people who are doing a bad job of trying not to stare at us. His eyes are back on me and he subtly licks at his lips, breathing heavy, “You taste like kvas, princess.”
—
Nikolai was a true romantic, and I hated it with all my whole being. I regret ever complaining about how much he didn't take the deal seriously, because I’d sure take that over trying not to burn red every time he showed me some type of attention. He constantly brings me to dinners where he’d lace his fingers with mine, drawing incoherent letters and shapes on my hand while he had small talk with one of his advisors, pulling me away when he wanted to have an early night and brushing away the stray hair on my face when I was busy scribbling off on my notebook. I’d try my best to not flush red, occasionally hiding away to collect whatever was left of my sanity that chipped away at every forehead kiss he’d give me whenever I fixed his hair or his clothes. Butterflies started to burst into my stomach, and every day I do my best to swat them all dead and remind myself that this was an act and nothing more.
Slowly, the things we were only supposed to show in public turned into things we subconsciously did in private, and that terrified me.
I start to seek refuge inside the libraries Nikolai promised me in the deal, avoiding his presence more often than usual. Focusing on my papers would help sober my mind from constantly thinking of Nikolai’s annoyingly soft kisses and his even more annoyingly pretty smile and possibly even save myself the embarrassment I’d face if he saw me like this. It’s nearing eleven in the evening when I decide to take a small break from writing, cracking my knuckles until my fingers feel somewhat sores. It was also nearing eleven in the evening when I hear a familiar voice calling out my name in a soft sigh, “I haven’t seen you all day.”
Oh no.
“You’re a mess, Nikolai. Look at you.” I lean back to get a good look at him.
He’s dragged a chair opposite mine, settling down on it rather slouched. Nikolai’s tousled mess of hair is juxtaposed by his pressed, kingly clothing, and my body betrays me when I reach out to him, running my hand over his hair to push it back from his forehead. My actions have surprised us both, and I try to salvage the silence with the clearing of my throat, “What brings you here?”
“You, clearly.” He answers nonchalantly, “Since when do you hide out in a dusty library for hours?”
I take a second to answer and I raise my eyebrow, giving him an amused smile, “Don’t tell me you’ve missed me, Nikolai.”
There’s a glint in his eyes, “And what if I did?”
“Then, you’d be a liar.”
Nikolai takes it upon himself to stand and loom over my chair, anchoring himself on an arm pressed on the back of my seat, “Oh, milaya moya, I’m many things, but I’m certainly not a liar.” He leans down further, and I’m reminded of the reason I hide in the eerie library aisles. My breath hitches when he speaks again, “And stop flattering yourself. We have fittings in three days for the party.”
—
The fittings took quite a bit of time, and by the last day, Nikolai and I were invited to try on what we were made to wear for the ball. Both of our clothes are pulled in on a mannequin, and we are equally in awe of what they made in a few days’ time. Nikolai’s presented with a gold and blue court tunic with delicate embroidery and a sash. My off-shoulder gown resembles Nikolai’s tunic colors, black embroidery extending under my black corset. My corset is the last thing to fix in my perfect-fitting dress, and it’s impossible to do alone. I try my best to do whatever feels right, and I know it’s taking me a long time when Nikolai shouts out from the outside, “Princess? What’s taking you so long?”
“It’s my corset.” I mumble, rolling my shoulders, “Unless you’re here to help, I suggest giving me a minute or two.”
He knocks, “Come here. I’ll tie it up.”
I push the heavy doors apart with some struggle, and Nikolai is staring, rather wide-eyed when he sees me. His arms are crossed when he walks over, nodding in satisfaction, “You look beautiful in Lantsov colors.”
I turn around to let him grab at the lace of my corset, “I look beautiful in anything.”
“Of course.” He works his way from the top laces.
I understand I underestimated the proximity this puts us in when I feel his breathing on my neck when he moves his fingers around the laces, splaying his fingers on the small of my back. I groan when he suddenly tightens it, “Too tight?” He asks. It takes him a few minutes to figure it out, and when he finally does, he lays his hands on the smooth surface of the corset on my waist for a few minutes, “The gold brings out the spite in your eyes.”
“Charming.”
—
Today, I’ve woken up earlier than usual to prepare for the ball everyone’s anticipating. I’m sitting on my vanity when handmaidens enter my room, with them the gown from yesterday in tow. Upon laying my eyes on the corset, I remember Nikolai’s hand on my waist and I try to pull myself away from the thoughts in my head. I couldn’t afford to think these things, not when I’m supposed to spend hours of him doting on me for show. It would be too dangerous of a game, and I wasn’t exactly the person to dabble in risks. Counting down is the only thing I can do to keep my nerves in check, and it doesn’t provide much help when my heart starts to pound in my ear a few minutes before Nikolai knocks on my door to fetch me.
We are a hallway away from the venue when he stops, reaching for my hand. There’s a gold-band ring on his thumb with an uncut emerald, and he’s carrying an identical one on his other hand, “Just so they know.” And with that, he slips it on my thumb and drags me inside.
I’m quite pleased about how well the party is going. People are fooled by our show, and they’ve been tirelessly asking about our matching clothes and jewelry, intrigued about how this relationship between the youngest Zemeni princess and the Ravkan king bloomed, and I do my job well, gushing about it like it wasn’t just an act we put on.
I’ve also come to introduce Nikolai to my family, who are all gasping and clutching their pearls, “Is this why you haven’t sent letters this past month? You’ve been spending all your time here in Os Alta!” My mother says in fast Zemini, “And with little Nikolai too, no less.”
“I can assure your daughter’s been enjoying yourself, Your Highness.” He answers her in perfect Zemeni, flashing a charming smile before he bows, “She’s finding solace in one of our many libraries.”
“We never thought you two would come to terms with your feelings. Especially with our little girl here, who was practically glowing red when you two entered the room.” My mother pokes at my arm, “Sweet girl. What has he been doing to you to have you all shy?”
I stutter out an answer, and when no words escape my mouth, I pull Nikolai away from my parents.
“Shy, princess? Did I hear that right?” He laughs, letting himself be dragged off.
“No.” I pant. Nikolai wasn’t exactly a feather, “Now, go. Fool more people.”
“Alright, alright. No need to get pushy.”
Nikolai must’ve been fooling a whole nation because it’s been a good hour since I’ve seen him. I’m growing tired, so I decide to find drinks to sustain me for at least a few more hours. There, I see the boy I’ve been looking for, and… with another princess, too. He’s standing over a glass of brandy with her, and it seems like he’s enjoying his time. I could feel an ugly boiling of emotion at the bottom of my stomach, and my face contorts into something of obvious disgust.
Oh no. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. I wasn’t feeling this way. Not for him, no.
Nikolai sees me and he excuses himself promptly from the princess, who I’ve identified now as the Shu princess. “Hi, pretty.” He lifts my knuckles up to his lips, “Is there anything you need?”
“You,” I jab a finger at him subtly, holding him at the arm, “are coming with me.”
When we arrive at a secluded room, I push him against the door. “Bold, aren’t we?” He says.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? What are my parents gonna think if they see you chatting up the Shu princess who is clearly interested in you?” I hold him by the collar, “I know you aren’t the most delighted to be seen with me, but save me the shame, Nikolai.”
Nikolai is peering down on me, reading the expression plastered on my face, and his expression of confusion is melting into something of a knowing little smile, “Are you jealous?”
“Obviously not!” I chew at my bottom lip, crossing my arms defensively after such an accusation.
“Stop lying to me. I can tell when you are and you know that.” Nikolai shakes his head, taking me by the waist so that I’m the one against the door, “You think you don’t have a tell, but you do, and I’m rather elated I’m the only one that knows what it is because that means,” He says slowly, tone enticing, “I’m the only one that’s so constantly looking at your lips.”
I look up at him and glare, eyebrows furrowed, “So what if I were jealous? It’s not like it would matter, wouldn’t it? This is just an act we put on for both of our benefits.”
“You’re a stubborn girl, aren’t you?” Nikolai sighs, dragging his hand lower on the door, “I look at you like you hung the stars, the moon, and every celestial body in the night sky, and you’re telling me you think I’m just putting on an act? Good saints, princess, they told me you were smart.”
“You… were flirting with her.”
“And I kissed you in front of the whole Little Palace.” He lowers himself down to meet with my eyes, “I wasn’t flirting with her. She was, but not me.” He cocks his head to the side, grinning, “Why don’t we save ourselves the embarrassment of admitting to everybody this was all fake, and allow me to actually take you on a proper date?”
“I suppose that would be fine.” I turn my head to the side, unable to retain eye contact. His hand is tilting my face back at him, “Oh, no, no. We’re well past the point of being shy, I think.”
“You are impossible.” I try to muster a poisonous voice but my eyes betray me when it flickers between his eyes and his lips. Saints, his pretty lips, and his pretty smile. I hate him for what he’s doing to me, and yet somehow I’d hate it even more if he were doing this with anybody else.
I don’t have to look at him to know he’s reading me, figuring me out like I’m his favorite puzzle. “Far from that.” Nikolai presses a soft kiss on my mouth. I return it almost immediately, pulling him in by the hem of his tunic. Nikolai run his tongue on my bottom lip before he pulls away, leaning in to get another on my jaw, “I’m improbable, princess.”