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"I LIVED AND DIED FOR MOMENTS THAT WE STOLE"
―THE TRUTH WAS, NIKOLAI HAD BEEN AFRAID.
The King of Ravka, afraid to kiss the girl he wanted to love.
He'd thought it was right, the familiar scent of her, as she'd willingly held her ground in such proximity. But then they were there again, on the Darkling's whaler as they had been long ago when they'd been searching for Rusalye, Morozova's second amplifier. And he was Sturmhond yet again, feeling that vulnerability overtake him as she'd whispered the word no. And in the moment, she had as good as done the very same. She'd pulled away before anything happened at all, and the rejection smarted even as he thought about it now.
Nikolai should have listened to what she was going to say. But he didn't want to. He didn't want to hear her say she was sorry, sorry that she didn't love him anymore and didn't want him. He didn't want to see the pity in her eyes. So he'd never taken the chance.
But he felt as though he'd imagined the disappointment in Yi's eyes as they'd pulled away, returning to their respective seats, and then she'd departed for the night.
So it was over, he decided as he took a swig of his brandy. They could never love each other again, she'd made that crystal clear as the glass in his hands, and at least they'd established it together.
The very same glass she'd made for him that day on the ship, when she'd shown him her ability.
He stared at the dregs of his drink and the symbol of the Materialki, her house, emblazoned into the cup. It was over. He'd accepted that from the day she'd left.
So why did it still hurt this way?
Nikolai closed his eyes as he heard his door open. "Zoya?"
"We need to talk."
"I'm certain nothing good has ever come of those four words, but do go on. I must say, a bit more trouble spices things up in these times," Nikolai said cheerfully as he opened his eyes and looked over at her.
"You've been avoiding Yi. She knows it, we all do," Zoya told him, running a hand over his desk. "Stop this. She's the ideal bride."
Nikolai leaned back. "Why, that would be a splendid idea. If she actually happened to care for such affairs."
"Don't be ridiculous," Zoya scoffed, walking over to the very seat Yi sat in minutes ago. "You managed to get her to fall deeply in love with you once. We all know you can do it again. Saints, she wants you to do it again."
"I highly doubt that."
"And I doubt that. What happened to your insufferable arrogance?"
Nikolai rubbed a hand over his eyes. He truly didn't know why it affected him so much that Yi didn't seem to care. He'd lived without her for three years straight, he should have been able to do this. "I tried, Zoya. Hardly five minutes ago. She walked out."
