fₒᵣ ᵢ ₐₘ bₑcₒₘₑ dₑₐₜₕ, dₑₛₜᵣₒyₑᵣ ₒf wₒᵣₗdₛ
Anastasia Morozova is a kinslayer. Anya Varamyr is a murderer. Anastasia is a decorated soldier. Anya is a backstreet cutthroat. Anastasia would die for her country. Anya would die for her friends.
Anastasi...
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Anastasia sat atop a wooden table, Mal and Alina sat in the chairs beside her. Across the tent, Sturmhond - or rather, Nikolai Lanstov stood with his arms up in a gesture of peace. "I'm just here to talk," he said.
But Mal had grown tired of his games. "Who are you, and what are you playing at?"
"Nikolai Lanstov. Please don't make me recite my titles again. It's no fun for anybody, and the only important one is 'prince'."
"And what of Sturmhond?" Alina asked.
"I am also Sturmhond; scourge of the sea."
And the bane of my existence as of late, Anastasia thought bitterly - yet almost fondly at the same time.
"That's impossible," Alina insisted, shaking her head. "You can't possibly expect any of us to believe any of this!"
"I do have the royal seal - "
"You probably stole it from the real Nikolai Lanstov!"
Nikolai looked down at his untouched glass of kvas in exasperation, before glancing up and making eye contact with Anastasia. "You trust her, don't you. Miss Anya remembers me, don't you sweetheart?"
Alina's head swung around to stare at Anastasia in surprise. Even Mal glanced back from the entrance of the tent.
"Unfortunately, I do," she admitted, nodding at Alina. "The prince lived in Os Alta up until the age of 14. Little fucker used to steal my brandy - followed me around like a lost puppy. Hard to forget a pest so persistent."
"I'd politely like to remind you that at the age of fourteen I was already a good half foot taller than you. And I did not follow you around like a lost puppy - I was simply trying to find out where you'd moved the brandy to!"
"Not to mention he'd replace the empty bottles and fill them with apple juice -"
"It was pear juice!"
" - little shit thought I wouldn't notice."
In truth, Nikolai had hoped and dreamed of catching the pretty Grisha princess' attention. As a 14 year old boy he hadn't even liked brandy all too much - it was a taste he'd become accustomed to with time.
