Zoya Nazyalensky Imagines

The Difference in You

This is one of Zoya Nazyalensky's favorite parts of her job. She supposes that she's supposed to enjoy battle best, or favor every chance she gets to show off her mastery of the Small Science and look good while doing it. Zoya loves that too, no doubt about it, but some part of herself has always secretly enjoyed the quieter moments, such as this one.

For some reason unknown to just about everyone, Zoya has been tasked with being a personal guard to the youngest Lantsov, Princess Y/N. Typically, this would be a burden forced upon a lesser guard, but Zoya already spends so much of her time orbiting around the Lantsovs as the general of the Second Army that she scarcely even notices the change in schedule.

Besides, if she cares to think introspectively for longer than the second she usually allows herself, Zoya can admit that she does enjoy being around Y/N Lantsov. Truly. It's hard to not appreciate her company in at least some respect. Zoya doesn't think she's ever met someone quite so, well, spontaneous, in her sheer joy for being alive.

Ravka is not a hospitable place for dreamers, nor princesses. Y/N's faced more attempts on her life than most people can even imagine, yet she still remains a giddy optimist. It's fascinating. Zoya has attempted to wear her down on numerous occasions, just to see what it would take to make Y/N's smile slip, but it never quite works out. Even Zoya's own barbed wit is nothing in comparison to the princess' emotional shield, although that doesn't mean Zoya's toning herself down anytime soon. Not even royalty can convince her to lay down her favored weapons.

Still, straightening up from where she leans against the wall of the Grand Palace, Zoya can't deny that she's happy to be here, for once. In the past, visits to the Grand Palace have never boded well for whatever unlucky Grisha was forced to parade in front of the elder Lantsov king in the hopes of gaining some sort of funding for their projects.

That was then, though, during the reign of the Darkling's manipulation tactics. Today, Nikolai wears the crown, and he's more than happy to spend an afternoon locked in pleasant debates with Zoya on just about anything. She might be the first person he truly considered a friend, which says something about the sorry state of affairs Ravka's king finds himself entrapped in now. If your best compatriot is someone who'd rather bare her teeth than grin, well, things clearly aren't great for kings nor soldiers.

That's how Nikolai differs from Y/N, though. Nikolai, despite his best efforts, still carries with him the shadows of being a king. He puts on a mask, one that could pretty much be his real face were it not for the near invisible seams at the edge, but it is, in the end, still a mask. If you look closely enough, you can see where it breaks, where the exhausted man inside does his best to peer out.

Y/N, though, bears her burden in a different way- through challenging it instead of bearing it admirably. Nikolai has accepted what he must be, but Y/N still has the hope to launch a counterattack against the injustice of it all. Zoya doesn't know how; Y/N has been here fighting this never ending war alongside her brother for as long as Zoya can remember, yet she still keeps the faith that something good could come of it.

Maybe that's why Zoya like spending time with her, after all: it reminds a stone hearted general such as herself that not all darkness has to last forever. Sometimes, better times are just over the horizon.

Speaking of which, Y/N has just appeared out of a wide set of double doors, casually pushing past the gold inlaid panels to step out into the bright morning. She bids farewell to a couple of advisors, then meets eyes with Zoya and beams. Zoya doesn't think that anyone else has ever been so pleased to see her, but she can't say that she minds.

Y/N crosses over to Zoya, still smiling just as happily. "There's my favorite chaperone. Have you had a chance to crush someone's dreams yet?"

"No, but it's only morning." Zoya responds, bemused.