The Tsar, The Princess And The Tailor

A Letter From Fjerda

Nikolai suggested her room so no one would disturb them. After teasing him by asking if he thought she had no friends who may barge in, Ixora countered that they ought to go to his for that very reason - if he was needed, he'd be easy to find there. Nikolai just wanted to stay with her, no interruptions but she made a lot of sense, as always.

Hopefully, nothing would need the king's attention for a while.

To his credit, he did try to clean himself up at first. Up until Ixora smacked his hand away, ignoring his very weak protest. This close, he could see every detail of her face. He could truly breathe her in and he couldn't help but want more.

These feelings startled him. This was his childhood friend. He'd chased this same woman, as a little girl, around the garden outside. He'd trained for fights with her. She'd once taught him how to slow down and find peace while he'd taught her how to get reckless and have more fun.

To imagine that that little girl and this magnetising woman who drew him in too soon and too fast were one and the same? It was a strange transition to get used to. Besides, there was Alina Starkov, to whom he was engaged. And he'd left Ixora be all those years ago, ruining things by his own hand. Why would she ever want anything to do with him in the first place? The fact that she had showed up at the castle in the first place and was speaking to him at all still came as a shock.

"So, this was who you were when you were away from me, Nikky? An amplified version of yourself?" He looked up. She'd finished cleaning him up while his mind had drifted away off across too many memories, not noticing the subtle prick of pain in his gaze as she brushed her fingers over the buttons of his coat. It brought flashes of bitter nostalgia for a life he'd never have again that caused him to hasten in tugging it off.

"All that's left of my persona's handsome ensemble is my lucky compass. Gave it to a friend for safe keeping and safe travels, though."

"Well... I just don't get it. That isn't... Enough. If you were going to sail across the world, you could still have written me letters, Nikky." He bristled, risking a look at her. She seemed tense, shifting her weight as she avoided his eyes. It would take him some moments to realise it was because she was trying to hide the tears in her own.

"Can't we just leave the past in the past?"

"I wouldn't be here at all if I was capable of doing so, Nikolai."

"I don't want to fight."

"This isn't a fight-"

"You're ashamed of me. You hate that you're here. You hate that you're with me, again. You regret it, don't you? You regret ever coming-"

"You are reaching, your majesty." Her head had snapped up so quickly. He could see them, now but it didn't matter. The seeds of doubt were planted and it was making him lose his mind.

"I am not! Look at you... Look at you... You are like a... A light. In clouds and seas of darkness. And I am that darkness personified."

"That isn't who you are."

"It is, now!"

"So... You even lie to yourself, Nikolai. It seems I'll have to teach you a lesson as I always do. A task I hold with great regard. A challenge I am going to win."

"You can't understand this."

"Do you think my life in Novyi Zem is always happy, Nikky? I... It should have been. I had my mother. I had flowers and a kind people and a room full of books from all over the world... I should have been happy. I certainly wanted to be."

"...I didn't mean to cause you such strife."

"It wasn't you, your majesty. It was me. My mind, my thoughts, the swirl of... Inky black madness that spread through my skin, poisoned my every waking moment. I wanted to die... For the longest time, I wanted so badly to die."