We•Will•Rise

Chapter Twelve

The sun is not yet above the roofs of the noblemen's houses when I set off to wake Nikolai. Kyrad said they'd meet us by the stables with the pirates at late sunrise. I might be a bit early, but I was getting too anxious pacing around in my room and replaying stupid scenarios in my head. As usual, I barely slept and I woke up before the sun and even before most of the servants. I stayed idle for as long as I could manage, so Nikolai can be annoyed at me all he wants when I wake him up.
I thought I finally got them out of my head, but the Queen's words from the previous day still bounce around in my mind. It angers me more each time I think of the smile on her face, a smile like she knows something I don't. My fingers itched to wipe it from her lips, but I have some self-control. Enough to not be practically begging for death, anyways. Either way I have to remind myself that she isn't my biggest concern. Not right now. Sure she's a threat and an unworthy Queen, but she's only a real threat to me and isn't planning on burning down the kingdom as far as I know. It's the vamphir's that mean to destroy the world and that's where my focus is.
I take a deep breath as I reach Nikolai's door, knocking on it with a purpose. No answer comes and I chew on my bottom lip, rapping almost desperately. I don't know what else I'm going to do if I can't wake him up. Pacing around the castle doesn't seem like a great idea. But after knocking again, I hear a curse and his angry footsteps right before the door swings open. He stands in front of me with no shirt and a pair of loose grey underwear, his black hair is tousled from sleep and sticks up at odd ends. His eyes are narrowed and still half-asleep until they focus on me. He immediately smooths out his face and the sleepiness leaves just as quickly, replaced by confusion.
"Maltrov," he says, leaning against the door. "You really do wake up before the sun." He shakes his head at me. But I'm too busy looking at his chest to reply. I don't know what I expected exactly, I mean I guess I never really had time to think about it really. He's made lean, not all bulk and muscle, but in no way weaker looking than someone built broad like Barron. It's something I wasn't expecting underneath his loose-fitting tunics. I realize I'm staring after a moment and quickly look up, frowning at his tiny smirk.
"Well, I couldn't sleep," I snap, "I figured we'd get a head start."
"I suppose that's fine," He says with a light shrug before opening the door and motioning me inside. I hesitate, suddenly unsure of myself. Maybe waking him up had been a bad idea. I hadn't thought about him being half naked when I did it. I'm an idiot for that miscalculation.
I decide to step inside anyways—nearly brushing against his chest in the small opening he made—before he decides to shut the door in my face. That would be even more embarrassing than whatever might happen here.
He stares at me for a moment, arms crossed over his fit chest. I try to look anywhere but at him, my eyes scanning over his simple room. It has the same bed as me, but with a window almost the same size and an armoire against the wall across from the bed. It's relatively barron and small, like most of the empty guest rooms, but he seemed to have made himself at home anyway.
"Why don't you sleep well at night?" He knocks me off guard by asking. I look at him with a frown, my hands on my hips.
"My mind just. . . isn't quiet enough." I shrug, dropping my hands and laughing. "You seemed to be sleeping good though."
"I was," he chuckles, "I was sleeping hard until I found myself standing half dressed in front of a beautiful woman."
My cheeks flush and I instinctively take a step back. "Don't do that."
"Do what?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Whatever it is you've been doing," I throw my hands in the air in exasperation. "There are so many other things going on I can't handle another one."
"Alaya," he breathes my name softly, making me look at him in shock. He takes a step forward, but his hands remain crossed tightly over his chest. "It's important to live, not just survive."
I open my mouth then close it again. He's right of course, but could I manage doing both? What if I allow whatever is between us to grow and something happens to me? Or to him? I couldn't handle the loss well enough to go on like I'm supposed to. I don't know what he sees in my face, but his eyes are gentle as he steps towards me again, reaching out for my hands. I let him take them, his rough, warm fingers closing around mine. "I'm not going anywhere." He shakes his head, squeezing my hands. "I will fight for you and with you until my last breath. The first time I met you, when you held a knife to my throat I knew."
"Knew what?" My voice is barely above a whisper.
"That I want to be around you. Especially after I've learned that you are an exceptional woman who feels things hard and won't apologize for it. You fight for what you believe in and you fight with grace. You defend even the people that tossed you out and would have hunted you down and you didn't even think twice about it."
I take in a deep breath to steady my voice before I speak. "You couldn't possibly know all of that," I shake my head, "I'm just doing what anyone else would do."
"Perhaps, but I didn't see any of us stepping up to the job until you made us. I'm going to make you realize that you are strong, you are worthy, and I will gladly cut down anyone that makes you feel less than."
"I—" I shake my head, lost for words. I look up at him with wide eyes and he stares back, unapologetic about opening up to me. My heart flutters in my chest and the warmth in my belly unfurls, aching to reach out where our fingers touch. This is all too much; I've been in this position before only for it to end with a knife in my back. Even though I know deep down that Nikolai's words are genuine, I still can't bring myself to open up, or to let anyone in. Especially not at such a bad time and I don't think I'm wrong for that. Maybe a coward and an idiot, but I'd rather that than be left with a gaping wound in my heart either from loss or betrayal. After hiding for so long, that's where I find my comfort. Not in the hands of some boy I've only known for a few days. No matter what my heart tries to tell me.
After a moment of no reply, he squeezes my hands one more time before dropping them. "I'll be here when you're ready," is all he says before walking over to his armoire and ruffling through his clothes. I stand there awkwardly, unsure of if I should leave or just wait. He says nothing as he pulls on a beige tunic, some black trousers, and his boats and leather coat. He even pulls on his stolen Sultan's sword, belting it around his waist. My hands go unconsciously to the Grimstone dagger I've kept in my sleeve since the attack. Looks like we've both decided to take extra precaution, though his is a little more obvious. When he's done belting the sword, he turns back to me and offers a small smile. "Shall we go?" He gestures towards the door and I gladly start for it. He opens it before I can, waving me through it. I glower at him despite his manners and step out of the room.
We walk in silence out of the castle and to the stables where we find the other men. Six armored Sultans like Kyrad promised, none of them I recognize. The three pirates stand beside them, having been given actual clothing that seems oversized over their frail frames. They wear chains around their hands, loose enough to give them only a few inches of separation. There are seven free horses for the Sultans, Nikolai and I, and then two more attached to an old, rickety buggy. I walk up to one of the unclaimed ones—a beautiful black horse with a white stripe across its face—and pat it gently on the nose.
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Maltrov," one of the Sultans say in a pleasantly low voice. He sticks his hand out for me to take it, and when I do he brings it up to his face and kisses it. He's a relatively nice looking man despite a long, crooked nose and small chin. His hair is a dusty brown and his round eyes are about the same color, but they seem genuine. I pull my hand back and try to look like I appreciate the gesture instead of feeling weird.
"Pleased to meet you as well," I say back, looking to the other Sultans that step forward.
"I'm Garreth," the guy that kissed my hand begins, "this is Edmund, Ricket, Orian, Torrin and Felmen." He gestures to all five, and I know I'm going to have trouble remembering their names. Edmund is very short, almost shorter than me, with hay colored hair and grey eyes. Ricket is tall and skinny, with curly orange hair and a fiercely freckled face. Orian has almond colored skin with untamable brown curls for hair and golden eyes. Torrin is a big man with a big mouth and lacking hair everywhere but the black patch on his chin and he also looks to be the oldest, maybe in his forties. Felmen stands behind them all, staring directly at me with hooded blue eyes and thin black hair. They all seem to be varying ages, but all from the capital and all deadly Sultans, even the shorter Edmund.
"Well, please call me Alaya, and this is Nikolai," I grab his hand and pull him forward from where he stands behind me. "I'm happy you all could make the trip with us."
"I suppose we weren't good enough company for ye, hm?" Captain Xanvier drawls from where he stands with his crew by the buggy, placing a hand over his heart. "You wound me."
I narrow my eyes at him, but Garreth speaks instead. "Don't start, pirate, we have a long four days ahead of us, longer if you decide to fill it with sarcasm." He rolls his eyes and looks back at Nikolai, his eyes traveling to the sword at his waist before meeting his gaze. "Where are you from? I know Alaya here is the Lord Commander's daughter."
I look at Nikolai, curious myself. I'm hit with the sudden guilt that I've never asked him anything about himself, meanwhile he seems to know so much about me. It makes me feel bad, and I decide that on this trip I'm going to figure out as much about him as I can to make up for it. If, of course, he even tells me. He doesn't even seem like he wants to answer Garreth's question.
"I'm from the capital as well," he says finally, glaring at Captain Xanvier. The pirate smiles, but it's a predatory one that makes my skin crawl.
"Why don't we go ahead and leave? We have a long road to cover." I say, looking at the horse. I haven't rode since I was a young girl, so I surely don't remember how it works. I can only hope I picked the most tame one. I guess I look just as clueless as I feel because Garreth and the others laugh.
"Here—" Garreth begins but is cut off by Nikolai shooting him a warning glare before starting towards me. Garreth holds his hands up in surrender with a smile, glancing back at the other men who share the same expression. Nikolai doesn't seem to notice, or doesn't care, as he leans down and locks his fingers together.
"Use my hands as a boost," He offers, steadying himself. I gingerly place my hand on his shoulder and step into his palms with my right foot. He lifts me up and I swing my left foot around the saddle of the horse, grabbing tightly onto the reins and sticking my feet in the stirrups. Nikolai places a warm hand on my leg. "The horse will instinctively follow behind the others. Just don't take the lead."
"Not a problem," I mumble and he gives a small smile. I return the gesture. I'm grateful he didn't try to hoost me up like a child or a helpless girl, instead he let me do the work. I just know if it was any of the others that jumped in they would have done just that.
Garreth and the others help the handcuffed pirates onto the buggy as Nikolai climbs onto his own horse. Soon, everyone is ready and Garreth takes the lead, followed by the horses with the buggy and the other Sultans. Nikolai and I take up the rear, walking side-by-side out of the capital.