Her Balance | Nikolai x Reader x Darkling

~ Chapter 5 ~

Let's get into it.

First Person - Y/n

Anger, confusion, and blatant shock swarmed me as Ivan and I walked down a hill and onto a road where the Darkling's black coach was already waiting. 

His grip had slackened after the brief interaction outside the tent, but tightened again as we got closer towards the coach which was surrounded by a ring of mounted Grisha Etherealki and flanked by lines of armed cavalry. 

Two of the Darkling's gray-clad guards waited by the door to the coach with a woman and a fair-haired man, both of whom wore Corporalki red.

"Get in," said Ivan his tone less harsh, "if you please, General."

"No," I said.

"What?" Ivan seemed genuinely surprised. The other Corporalki looked shocked.

"No!" I repeated. "I'm not going anywhere. There's been some kind of mistake. I—"

Ivan cut me off, taking a firm grip on my arm. 

"The Darkling doesn't make mistakes," he whispered. "Y/n, get in the coach. You're a First Army General, so you should know what is going to happen in a few hours' time once what happened in the Fold gets out."

Hating myself as I did it, I replied, "Fjerdan Spies and Shu Han assassins will be on their way."

"Exactly, so please, get in the coach, because our only chance is to get you to Os Alta and behind the palace walls before anyone else realizes what you are."

He seemed to have calmed down again since I was able to understand the urgency of the situation, and more when I groaned and climbed into the coach. 

He followed me inside, throwing himself down on the seat opposite me. The other Corporalki joined him, followed by the oprichniki guards, who settled on either side of me.

"So I'm the Darkling's prisoner?" 

"You're under his protection."

"What's the difference?"

Ivan's expression was unreadable and he said, "Pray you never find out."

I scowled and slumped back on the cushioned seat, then hissed in pain. I'd forgotten my wounds.

"See to her," Ivan said to the female Corporalnik. Her cuffs were embroidered in Healer's gray. The woman switched places with one of the oprichniki so that she could sit beside me, and a soldier ducked his head inside the door. 

"We're ready," he said.

"Good," replied Ivan. "Stay alert and keep moving. We'll only stop to change horses. If we stop before then, you'll know something is wrong."

The soldier disappeared, closing the door behind him. The driver didn't hesitate. With a cry and the snap of a whip, the coach lurched forward. I felt an icy tumble of panic. 

What was happening to me? I thought about just throwing open the coach door and making a run for it. But where would I run? We were surrounded by armed men in the middle of a military camp, most of who knew my name and face. And even if we weren't, where could I possibly go?

"Please remove your coat," said the woman beside me. "I need to see to your wounds."

Not wanting to start more issues, I shrugged out of my coat and let the Healer ease my shirt over my shoulders. 

She took something out of a little satchel and a chemical scent filled the coach. I felt the pain as she cleaned the wounds but years of army battles had conditioned me to not flinching and feeling it as much.