Rule as Equals (Meant to Be My Balance #2)

Chapter 18

When I left the room, my legs weak, Nikolai supplied me with a jelly-filled pastry that smelled too good to refuse and a hot cup of tea. I sat in the sitting room for a bit, eating in silence and trying to tune out Nikolai's overdramatized stories about his sea battles.

"—the Fjerdan bastard started shooting. The ship was going down, my men were going mad, we thought there was no hope. Then, I had the genius idea of—"

"Nikolai," I said, quietly.

"Yeah?" His entire body perked up at my reply and the fact that I was somewhat aware of him.

"If you don't shut up right now, I'm going to burn your skin off. Slowly."

"Feisty." He grinned. "Just like your husband, huh?"

"Please don't."

Nikolai let me finish my pastry in peace, then grabbed my hand and pulled me up. "Hey, don't touch me. I'm surprised the king even left you alone with me."

"I had to sneak in your room this morning, you know? Good thing the guards believed that since I was your friend I had free access everywhere." He winked.

I gaped at him. Going to my room while I was asleep without Aleksander knowing? Especially when Aleksander was in the state that he was in? If my husband had walked in, he would have killed Nikolai, I had no doubt about that.

"But because you decided to not listen to me, I had to go to the king and make up some sob story about how I heard the maids talking about you and how he needed to get his ass up to help you."

"You didn't."

"Oh, I did, sunshine." His teeth shined with his smile and he slung and arm around my neck, guiding me outside. The weather was turning, and I shivered at the first brush of cold air. I hadn't even realized my hands were glowing, already warming up my body.

"What are we doing out here?" I asked as Nikolai looked to the field of bustling Grisha, in various stages of training and eating together.

"Hey. Pass." Nikolai gestured to the guard and before I could even process what was happening, the guard slung his sword two feet into the air.

My eyes widened, hands ready to cut the blade in half to deflect it from cutting Nikolai in half. But instead, he just reached into the air and caught the sword, then gestured to another guard and did the same thing again. While I was gaping at him, he handed me one of the swords.

"Nik—"

"You have your lecturing voice on right now, and I don't want to hear it, Alina," he said, sounding like the little boys who would talk back to Ana Kuya. She used to beat them with a stick, and in that moment, I related to her more than I ever thought possible.

I was more than happy to strike out with my sword, a cold wind running through me, making my skin shine brighter with light. Nikolai met my every strike though. Even with the brisk weather, a thin sheen of sweat formed on my skin, my exhales puffy white clouds as my sword skimmed Nikolai's arm. He winced, losing his advantage, and I used my foot to push him down. My weight was only enough to make him stumble and he fought viciously, not caring whether I was a queen or a sankta or anything.

But right when he had me on the ground and he was just about to press the sword against my exposed neck, I jerked my knee up, hitting the end of my sword against his wrist and forcing him to drop the weapon.

"That's my girl." I jerked my head to the side and faced my husband, his eyes finally silver again, soft like clouds on a rainy day. Our eyes locked, pride shining through Aleksander's slight smile. The first I had seen since—

In the two seconds I'd been staring at my husband, Nikolai had retrieved his weapon and pressed it against my throat.

"I win." He was beaming, all gloating and proud as I moved away from the blade and let him help me to my feet. Aleksander's eyes locked on the place where his hand met mine, gaze burning.

"You got lucky," I mumbled, throwing the sword down to fix my hair.

"Sure I did," Nikolai gloated.

I was breathing heavily, out of shape and weaker than ever before. It was a surprise I had managed to get as far as I did with Nikolai.

Aleksander approached me, his steps tentative and careful as he looked me up and down. "Be careful, Alina. But keep training."

My eyes couldn't stay on him, so I blinked a few times. "Nikolai won't let me out of it now." The intended humor in my voice came out too weak.

My husband tipped my chin up, his face devastating. "I'll see you for dinner. No sooner, Alina. Stay with the sobachka or Genya or the Grisha trainees for all I care, but don't let me find you alone."

My throat felt tight when I nodded. I hadn't missed the way his voice strained at "the sobachka" or how angry it made him to see the two of us together. But he knew that every time he appeared, I was reminded of the son we had lost. He knew that Nikolai's light and stubborn insistence would guide me out of the pain, and he hated it, but he had also accepted it.

He was willing to make that sacrifice for me.

***

ALEKSANDER'S POV

I left my fragile wife in the hands of a man who couldn't take care of something as simple as a throne. It could be the worst decision I ever made, but when I saw Alina fighting today, it only confirmed my suspicions. He could help her in a way I never would.

My feet guided me to our bedroom, my hand tightening around the doorknob. I should have gone in, retrieved what I needed, then gone down to the dungeons to take the edge off. Instead, my feet led me to the second door, to my son's bedroom. Everything was still in pristine condition.

I had seen it so clearly, I thought I had been gifted a glimpse into the future. Alina in that rocking chair with my son bundled in a night-sky blanket. His chubby toddler hands tracing the images on the walls. His cries breaking the silence of the night, Alina waking to go to him, me pushing her back into bed and rocking my son back to sleep.

I pressed my thumb against my forehead, feeling the beast rage and beg to be free. He was already slipping out, black consuming the forest green walls. Sometimes, the shadows were comfort. Solace and reprieve, forgetting the pain and surrounding yourself in power. But sometimes, you could feel the cruelty in every wisp of darkness, and I could feel it now, consuming me.

The darkness drew lines across my face, my eyes turning blacker and blacker, vision hazy. My fist tightened and something made of glass shattered. A growl of unadulterated rage escaped me, and the furniture fell, one by one by one. I bared my teeth, watching as out of the darkness, a nichevo'ya appeared, its claws sharp as it tore through the paint on the wall, ripping every inch apart until there was nothing but a broken room.

I let the darkness fester in what should have been my son's nursery. Then, anger released, I went to go to dinner with my wife.

She looked better than I'd seen her in weeks. Her hair was in a loose white braid, strands slipping out against her black kefta. Her eyes softened, the smallest of smiles tugging up her lips when she saw me.

"How are you feeling?" I pressed my lips to her cheek in greeting, then pulled out her chair.

She shrugged. There wasn't much to say. Both of us switched between states of pain and hurt, then these flashes of normality before reminders of our son dragged us back down. The feeling was all too familiar.

But oh did it help to see her this way. Flushed cheeks, that cloudiness fading from her eyes. When she was bedridden, I had felt there was no hope. She wouldn't eat, she wouldn't sleep naturally, all she would do was cry or stare blankly into space, eyes foggy. Ordinarily, I would have raged against everything to pull her out, shifted the very world on its axis if it meant seeing her smile again. But this time, I had shared in her pain and suffering, and I could not bring myself to take her pain away when I knew just how much she burdened.

I didn't think anything would be enough for us to heal, but when I added another serving of custard to her dessert bowl and she smiled up at me, finishing every last bite, I realized it could very well be time that saved us.