The sun was already rising when Nikolai woke and prepared to go to the palace. His mother had left several hours ago, as was her custom, and with any luck, Volya would be gone too. Nikolai dressed swiftly and tucked his journal into a pocket sewn onto the inner part of his jacket.

He made his way downstairs, then paused. Hoofbeats clopped up to the front door. Nikolai squared his shoulders and stepped out of the house just as his brother dismounted. Volya glanced at him through copper eyes, a look of distaste crossing his features.

"Did you forget something?" Nikolai asked.

"No, I was sent back for you, actually. Some of the Lords will arrive this morning. Andrey asked me to make sure you'd be there on time." Volya narrowed his eyes. "And to make sure you won't be sneaking off."

"Are you going to put a guard detail on me?" Nikolai muttered, shoving past his brother.

Volya took his horse by the rains and followed him down the street. "The thought crossed my mind. Did Mother speak to you? She said she would."

"About what?"

"About your friendship with her Highness."

Nikolai clenched his jaw. "There was a time when you called her Nasi, same as me."

"That time is long past. I've grown up. It's time for you to do the same."

"Growing up doesn't mean abandoning my friends."

Volya grabbed his shoulder, halting him in his tracks. Nikolai rounded on him. "Growing up means doing what is in the best interest of you and your family. Haven't you disappointed Mother long enough?"

Nikolai bristled, fury burning through his gut. "The only people I've disappointed are you and Father. Mother doesn't care that I don't want to be a guard or earn a place in the Order of Knights. Those were goals Father set for me. For us. I chose to go my own way though."

"The only reason you chose not to be a guard was because you'd be expressly forbidden from speaking to any member of the Royal Family," Volya sneered. "And you couldn't bear to be distanced from your precious Princess."

Nikolai twisted out of Volya's grasp and stormed away, but his brother continued to follow him. "In a matter of days, she could be betrothed to the Emperor of Andrian. You won't be able to speak to her then, so you might as well stop now."

"She is never going to be anything other than a Princess with duties and obligations of her own," he continued. "A Saint that you were blessed to know for a brief time. She's never been yours to keep." Nikolai didn't answer. He just kept walking. "Nik," Volya barked, grabbing him again.

Nikolai rammed his elbow into Volya's gut. Volya doubled over with a gasp and Nikolai backed away. "You lost the right to call me that a long time ago."

Volya slowly straightened, a hoarse laugh breaking from his lips. "All right, Little Brother." He swung onto his horse. "Oh, by the way, I thought you'd like to know that the little pansy you insist on associating with got the shit beat out of him last night."

Nikolai's eyes widened. "Yuri? What the hell did you do?"

"Nothing. I'm the one who broke up the fight and dumped his ass at a healer's. And before you ask, Balakin was nowhere to be seen."

"What healer did you take him to?" Volya was already riding away. "Volya, what healer did you take him to?"

"Don't bother. You have work to do," Volya snapped. "And if you don't show up, Andrey will flay your hide, and I'll take a turn after him."

Nikolai curled his nails into his palms, willing himself to stay put. Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to tackle his brother from that horse and beat him senseless until he told him what had happened to Yuri.

But he would never learn the full truth from Volya. Never. He was only told what his brother wanted him to know. And Nikolai knew without a doubt that Mischa wouldn't have left Yuri to face a fight on his own, which meant he had been in trouble himself or had gone to get help before Volya arrived.

For a brief moment, Nikolai envisioned himself breaking Volya's nose as he had once before, many years ago, when he first became friends with Mischa and Yuri. In his brother's opinion, the two men were beneath them. They came from simple farming villages and had moved to Dimesa to learn new trades.

Mischa was an unlearned brute of a man who would never be anything more than a ground breaker, Volya claimed. And apparently, the only thing Yuri was good for was occupying the fists of common rabble rousers solely because of his romantic preferences, which he proudly expressed.

Both of those reasons were why Nikolai was friends with the pair in the first place. They were always themselves and didn't care what others thought of them. Nor did they care about what others thought of him. They didn't care that he was considered the disappointment of his family.

They didn't care that he chose to be a lowly stablehand over a revered member of the Guard or Order of Knights. They didn't care that he was friends with Nastasia, or that his true feelings ran deeper than friendship. He could be honest with them without facing ridicule or condescension, and they could do the same with him.

Nikolai loosed a heavy breath and carefully considered his options. He could track down Mischa and Yuri and earn the whippings he'd been promised, or he could go to the palace and appease Andrey, then sneak away later as usual.

Nikolai furrowed his brows and shrugged. When have I ever aimed to please Andrey? He asked himself. He turned down a side street and headed to the tavern where he knew Mischa and Yuri would've been the night before.

•༻᯽༺•

The Dancing Bear was entirely devoid of life, as Nikolai had expected it to be. It wouldn't open until late in the afternoon, and didn't close until almost sunrise. Nikolai circled the tavern, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of the fight that had taken place. It didn't take long to find it.

Blood soaked the bricks of a white-washed wall near the back door of the tavern. Nikolai knelt and swallowed hard, eyeing the point of impact. They'd bashed his friend's head into the wall. He turned and studied the street. There were spots of blood everywhere, and a few larger puddles that weren't entirely clotted yet. Nikolai pushed himself to his feet and exhaled slowly.

"Nik?" He turned, hearing Alina, the tavern owner, behind him. The woman watched him with pinched lips. "Your brother told you about the fight, I assume?"

Nikolai nodded. "I didn't think anyone would be here."

Alina set down a bucket full of sudsy water. "Someone has to clean this up before we open tonight."

"What happened?"

Alina sighed and knelt beside the wall. She dipped a coarse bristled brush into the water and began to scrub at the bloodstains. "Mischa was Champion of the Rings by the end of the night, as usual. Some unhappy opponents noticed that Yuri had been cheering him on, and with Yuri's reputation..."

She pursed her lips harder, then continued. "Well, they assumed he and Mischa were close. Obviously they didn't want to fight Mischa again, so they dragged Yuri out here and beat him unconscious. No one realized it until it was too late."

"Was he all right?"

"I don't know. Your brother and some guards showed up and ended the fight. Volya took Yuri to a healer before I had a chance to check on him."

"Do you know which healer?"

"Aye, she lives just down the street." She pointed to the building, just barely visible around the corner of the alley. "She's new." Alina frowned. "A strange one too. She always wears long sleeves and high collars, even in the heat of the day, and she doesn't let anyone in her office unless they want to be treated for something immediately."

"Is she a Mage in disguise?"

"That's what I think, but it's none of my business. So long as she doesn't threaten me or my customers, I don't mind having her around. Besides, there's benefits to having a healer close by."

"That there is. Thank you, Alina."

"Let me know how Yuri is, will you?" Alina asked, catching Nikolai's eye. Her own gaze was heavy with concern.

"Of course." Nikolai bowed his head to her and left the alley. He sprinted to the healer's office and banged his fist on the door.

Seconds passed before it swung open, revealing a stunningly beautiful woman. He guessed she couldn't be much older than Nastasia. As Alina said, the Healer wore long sleeves and a high collar, but the cut of her gown did little to hide her full curves. She was rather tall, only a few inches shorter than him. The woman had skin almost as pale as Nastasia's. Raven hair fell in loose waves down to her waist and her icy blue eyes fixed on him warily. "What do you want?"

"Is Yuri Novikov here?" Nikolai asked. "I'm a friend."

"Of course you are." The Healer shoved the door open wider and stepped aside, crossing her arms. "He's back there with the giant." She jerked her head towards a bedroom.

Nikolai murmured his thanks and approached the room. He found Mischa Balakin seated on a chair at Yuri's side. The latter was soundly sleeping, part of his face wrapped in thick bandages. Mischa looked up as Nikolai entered. His brown eyes swam with guilt. "I was going to come find you, but everything happened so quickly and I figured you'd be at the palace by now," he said in a rough accent thicker than Nikolai's own.

"It's all right." Nikolai rested a hand on Mischa's broad shoulder. "How is he?"

"He's fine. Danitza says he's healing quickly and she doesn't think there will be any permanent damage."

"There better not be." Yuri sat up, ruffling his blond hair and shaking it out with a slight wince. "I'm going to be pissed if they messed up my face." He peered up at Nikolai. "Aren't you supposed to be at the palace?"

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?" The Healer, Danitza, swept into the room, pushing Nikolai aside. "I'll charge double for my services if you do anything to slow down your recovery."

Yuri rolled his soil-brown eyes and laid back on the bed. Nikolai barely concealed his grin when he noticed how Yuri's lanky limbs barely fit in the bed frame. If he and Mischa tried to lie there, they wouldn't fit at all. Yuri was the smallest out of all three of them, while Mischa was the biggest. Nikolai fit perfectly between the two.

"Laugh all you want," Yuri scoffed, noticing his expression. "You'll be the one laying here if you don't get to the palace soon."

"I'm going. I just had to make sure you were all right first. Volya made it sound like you were on the brink of death."

"Volya was just trying to push your buttons and get you into trouble."

"I suppose we're about to find out if he succeeded," Nikolai sighed. "I'll stop by later if you're still here."

"All right, but make sure you see your Princess beforehand so we can listen to you gush about her for a few hours," Yuri teased.

"Stop talking," Danitza snapped as she reached for the bandages on his face.

Nikolai left the room before his friends could see the flush that crept into his cheeks. He set a swift pace towards the palace, but the morning had passed him quickly. By the time he arrived, Andrey was standing in the stable door, a sturdy switch in hand. "If you're going to act like an irresponsible boy, I'll treat you like one," the man growled.

Nikolai said nothing, even when he noticed Volya hovering across the courtyard. He just entered the stable and shrugged out of his shirt, then waited for the first blow. He knew his indifference only angered the Stablemaster further, but what more could Andrey do? He was only permitted to strike his employees twice a day, and the severity of the beating was determined by the severity of their insubordination.

Nikolai didn't doubt that he'd receive both granted beatings today, and likely another attempted one from Volya when he got home, but it didn't matter. Volya couldn't find him if he didn't go home. Besides, Andrey couldn't punish him too severely as he still needed Nikolai to be capable of working. None of the other stablehands could manage the horses quite like he could. 

And anyway, Nikolai thought to himself, they only leave bruises and welts. Those were nothing compared to the faded scars his father had left upon his back.