CHAPTER THIRTEEN
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MORANA ZORESLAVA WAS THE ONLY POISON HE WILLINGLY DRANK, the only fire he'd gladly burn in. And burn he did.

The taste of her lips had become bittersweet, a reminder that whatever they had, whatever he would willingly beg for—for her and only her—could never be, not while he was engaged to another. I'll only be a mistress to the ocean, she'd said.

He had responsibilities, and duties that he could not shirk—appearances to keep, brothers to put in place, a Ravka to sew back together. He couldn't allow himself to be ruled by his heart—yet she ruled him, his queen, his poison. He would find a way to make it work, to find a balance between his duty and his desire. Because he'd been telling the truth—she was worth everything.

The day he'd made the announcement, he had barely been able to take his eyes off her, even as she ignored his presence, looked away. When she'd walked out of the room with Tolya, Nikolai had managed to stay in his seat for a whole minute, his leg bouncing up and down as he struggled to keep the desire to go to her down and keep up the appearance of a happy and princely fiancé. One whole minute without her in sight and he shot up to a standing position, excusing himself before following after her like a moth to a flame.

He'd wandered through the halls of the Spinning Wheel in search of Morana and Tolya and shouts from the training center and had rushed over to see Morana collapsing against Tolya.

Tolya had picked her up; his face pale as he looked at him. She summoned dawn, was what he had said before starting to make his way to her room, Nikolai in his wake. Tolya had told him the lights in the room had dimmed, but that Morana seemed to be faintly glowing, light and shadows emitting from her fingertips in swirls, a perfect balance of both. And he said it hadn't looked like anything he'd ever seen, not even Alina summoning light or the Darkling's shadow. It was different. And Tolya had said it felt different too. It wasn't Small Science, he'd told Nikolai as he laid Morana on top of the covers of her bed.

Nikolai didn't know what that meant; he just knew whatever it was Morana thought about herself was utterly wrong. She'd called herself an abomination, unnatural, but what was more natural than the balance between light and dark? He'd sat down by the edge of her bed and brushed her hair out of her face as Tolya left the room, leaving the two of them alone.

"Mora?" he'd whispered. Morana's lips had tugged into a smile and his name had left her lips in a whisper, but she remained asleep. Nikolai had leaned down, kissing her forehead, "I'll fix this. I promise."

And then he'd stayed with her until the sun rose through her window, seeing as her skin began to glow faintly as dawn was upon them, and then he'd kissed her once more on the forehead and left her room. And as he walked through the halls, he'd realized, if Morana could find a balance within herself between her light and her shadows, then—for her—he'd do everything in his power to balance duty and love; because if anyone could have both it was him.

Nikolai felt a glimmer of hope stir inside him, and he clung to it fiercely. He had always been a gambler, always willing to take risks. Maybe this was the biggest gamble of his life, but he was willing to take it. For her.

Especially as he faced the glare of the Sun Summoner, whose eyes were narrowed in his direction, her lips pursed. "How could you forget to tell her?"

"You're a bit late for the scolding party, sunshine, Tolya, and Tamar already beat sense into me."

Alina's eye twitched. "I'm really tempted to punch you."

"I thought temptation was beneath Saints."

She took a deep breath, and relaxed her shoulders, as she brushed non-existent dust from her uniform. Nikolai had come to fetch her and found himself in the burning gaze of the Sun Summoner who hadn't had the proper time to address how much of an arse he had been.

"You'll fix this," Alina told him, with a pointed look as turned back to the mirror, and made sure everything looked in place, "We both don't particularly want this."

"It's for Ravka," Nikolai said, and he hated how defeated his voice sounded; how, despite all of the great and logical reasons for their political alliance, he could not find them strong enough to forget about his heart's desire.

"For Ravka." Alina sighed and finally turned to him, nodding. She hesitated, "How do I look?"

Nikolai's lips tugged into a smile, "Like sunshine, sunshine."

"Thank you, though I do hope you have better compliments for Morana," Alina said promptly. Nikolai rolled his eyes and Alina grinned before giving the golden dress (that looked like something his mother would wear) hanging on the mannequin before looking down at her own clothes. "Some of your Grisha were kind enough to help me put this together instead of..."

"I think I have just the flourish to complete the look. A gift." Nikolai gave her a tight smile as he walked towards her, taking a ring from a little pouch—a golden band with a huge emerald atop of it, something he could never picture in Morana's hand, not when she deserved a sapphire the color of the sea; something that he could create just for her eyes. "The Lantsov Emerald."

"Understatement is overrated." Alina huffed an incredulous laugh and Nikolai let out a laugh.

"I quite like it when you quote me." He dropped the ring on her extended palm, adding in afterthought, "Console yourself knowing that, should you ever punch me while wearing it, you'll probably take my eye out. And I'd very much like you to. Wear it, that is. Not punch me."

Alina let out a laugh and slipped the ring into her hand, she looked up at him. She nodded and they both made their way out of the room, making their way to the gathering. "Your mother will not be pleased you gave this to a commoner."

"If my mother was as put off by commoners as she claims, I wouldn't be here, now would I?" Nikolai replied with a smirk.

And he nearly let out a laugh as he remembered his last conversation with his sister; she'd told him it was naturally a blessing they were both bastards because looking like father and Vasily would've been a tragedy.

And then he certainly let out a chuckle at Alina's apprehensive face. "If you lead an army, you must get better at hiding what you're thinking."

She sighed, shrugging. "I wasn't sure."

"I've heard the whispers since I was a child, about both myself and Kira... I'll deny it if you repeat it, but the truth is, I couldn't care less if I have Lantsov blood. Given all the royal inbreeding, I think being a bastard is probably a point in my favor."

Alina smiled, nodding. "It's nice when you drop the act when you're just yourself."

"I'm a prince, Alina. Being myself is a luxury I can't often indulge," replied Nikolai, his jaw clenching slightly.

Are you scared of being yourself? Morana had asked him, and he'd answer he was terrified. The awful truth. But he wasn't scared when he was with her, with Morana he would always indulge in being himself, giving her his vulnerability so in turn she would give him hers. They could be terrified together, that's what he'd replied.

"The throne is just a prize to Vasily, like some favorite toy," Alina told him as the voices from the party grew louder, she looked up at him, "You actually care about Ravka. You'd make a good king."

Nikolai grinned. "Coming from you, that means a lot."

"You're going to be insufferable now, aren't you?" asked Alina with a grimace.

"Well, I'm already insufferable."

"Which is why you have to fix this," said Alina, "Only Morana can handle you for a lifetime."

The grin on his face widened, "I'm easy to handle when I'm on my knees, Alina, and Morana has the talent to get me there."

Alina snorted, shaking her head. "You sounded like Sturmhond just now."

"She's a pirate, the privateer inside me loves to rave about her."

The knowing smile Alina gave him, the look that told him she didn't need him to say it because the way he looked around Morana was enough for anyone to know how far gone he was, didn't need words. And as they walked inside the ballroom, Nikolai's eyes immediately searched for a set of dark curls, black eyes, and red-painted lips that had stained his heart.

Indistinct chatter and music played sounded in his ear, flashes of dresses and hair passed through him and yet he couldn't see her from where he stood. Alina's voice drew his attention away from his search.

"This is your family's idea of a small gathering?"

"I did not expect this," said Nikolai, and suddenly the dimension of the party registered in his head, and he glanced around at all the people, a bell going off in his head, he ignored it for a moment.

"Where's Mal?"

Nikolai let out a chuckle. "I know my company doesn't account for much, but at least pretend to enjoy yourself."

"Please." Alina scoffed. "You've been looking for Morana since we arrived."

"And I look dashing while doing it," said Nikolai. He saw Alina's nervous look and smiled. "You can't fault him for being a little late. This must be a sort of torture for him. I'm sure he'll be here soon—"

"Perhaps your loyal tracker doesn't share your enthusiasm for the festivities," Vasily made himself known, champagne glass in his hand as he neared Alina, too close; Nikolai forced a smile on his face.

"If you'll excuse me, moi tsarevich." Alina's smile was more of a grimace as she looked up at Nikolai before walking away leaving him alone with his brother.

Nikolai's eyes wandered the room once more and finally, he saw her. Leaning against a wall, her eyes perusing the room like she had all the power in the world, an unapproachable beauty. She was wearing a dress—Morana never wore a dress in his presence. It was crimson like blood; daring like her; intoxicating. It had the elegance and power of a ruler's dress, yet it looked far from whatever his mother or ladies of the court wore.

"I provided her with my personal seamstress and got not a word of gratitude." Nikolai's head snapped to his mother who'd shown up beside them; but her eyes and Vasily's weren't on Morana, they were fixed on Alina. His mother turned to him. "You know, milen'kiy, it's not too late to reconsider."

Nikolai ignored her, addressing the issue that had arisen with the feeling that something was wrong. "We agreed on an intimate affair. How many guests did you invite?"

His mother smiled, "Vasily got a little overzealous with the invites." Vasily chuckled and from the corner of his eye, Nikolai saw Morana approaching. "Now I don't entirely approve of your Caryeva set, but I admit, that sort lend a certain air of festivity."

His head reeled back to his brother, jaw clenching, "You revealed our location to the gamblers and freeloaders you call friends?"

"That's rich coming from a pirate." Vasily scoffed. "You make yourself ridiculous."

"The Darkling lives," Nikolai muttered through gritted teeth, "We're at great risk if our location is compromised. You'd sacrifice us all for your pride and stupidity."

"You overreach, you little bastard." Vasily smiled wryly, he patted his shoulder and grinned. "A toast!"

As Vasily made his way to the throne, the room going quiet as they waited for his speech, Morana got closer to Nikolai, and he glanced to the side seeing her look around with furrowed brows, her hands flexing as if she could feel something.

"Something's off," she muttered. Nikolai turned to her, seeing her fists clenched and his breathing grew heavier. He turned to look at Tamar, signaling with his hands for her to prepare for a fight, and saw her nodding just as Vasily raised his glass.

"I'd like to share some words about my brother, Nikolai—"

Morana gripped his arm, "I can feel them getting closer, Nikolai, we have to leave."

"Yes, yes, we all know he's pretentious... condescending, a man of the people," said Vasily as Nikolai looked around, seeing Tamar get the Grisha ready; but they needed to evacuate, Morana's grip was tightening on his arm. He looked at the window on the ceiling and saw the sky darken. "But he has some hidden qualities, too. His intended should—"

Shadows broke through the ceiling, falling amongst the crowd, raising into unnatural creatures of the dark. Chaos erupted.

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