Nastasia released a pent up breath as she raised her hands and summoned her magic. The starlight answered at once, crackling with cold energy. She willed it into shape, keeping her eyes open and her gaze fixed on the pulsing magic. She'd been working on different tricks ever since she woke up, knowing that sleep wouldn't find her after her dream and the warning the Soothsayer had given her.

    After an entire day of practicing, she was beginning to feel weary but proud. She'd already figured out three new moves, including shielding. The starlight hardened into a large round disk at her fingertips and Nastasia curved her hand into a fist, letting the shield reposition at her forearm. She eyed her wall warily, then lunged at the marble, bracing herself with the shield.

    Nastasia collided with the wall and was knocked backwards instantly. She grunted as she hit the floor and rolled. She sucked down a few deep breaths before sitting up. Her shield was still intact upon her arm, not even a scratch to be seen.

    "Did I just watch you purposefully run into a wall?" Nikolai laughed behind her.

    Nastasia glanced over her shoulder as he closed the door to the secret passage hidden behind her bookcase. Nikolai pushed the case back into place and offered her a hand. Her shield faded as Nastasia let him help her up. "I was testing out my shield."

    "By running into a wall?"

    "I needed to test its durability using force. I can't exactly hit myself forcefully with a weapon at that angle."

    "So you decided to run into a wall?" Nikolai's amber-flecked brown eyes twinkled with amusement.

    Nastasia blushed and looked away. "It was the wall or a door."

    "I'm already thinking of ways to turn this into a poem."

    "Don't you dare!" Nastasia gasped. Her hand flew at his chest, but Nikolai caught her by the wrist.

    "Silly Nasi, sweet and true, ran into a wall, then yelled 'Screw you!'," Nikolai teased.

    "I would never say something like that," she protested.

    "You're absolutely right. I've heard you say worse." Nastasia jerked in his grasp, the flush in her face growing warmer by the second. "Come now, Princess. Don't be embarrassed." Nikolai grinned, flicking her chin with his knuckle before releasing her.

    "Sometimes I think you're terrible," Nastasia huffed.

    "Sometimes I think you don't mean that."

    "I do."

    Nikolai simply chuckled and dropped into a nearby chair. Nastasia didn't miss the faint wince that crossed his features and apprehension curled in her gut. She sat down on the arm of the chair and tweaked one of the curls that hung over his brow. "Alexei said you've been up since dawn today. Is everything all right?" He asked.

    "Yes, I just had a strange dream. I spoke to Stepan about it."

    "And?"

    Nastasia averted her eyes. "Apparently my purpose as a Moon Blessed will soon be revealed." Nikolai grasped her hand and squeezed it tightly. "I'm just afraid of what that means. Will I have to marry Emperor Kazimir? Will I have to do something worse? Am I going to die like the other Moon Blessed?"

    Nikolai held both of her hands now and looked her square in the eye. "I wish I could tell you what to expect. I wish I could say that everything will be all right, but truthfully, I can't because I don't know. All I can say for certain is regardless of what happens, I'll be right here. I won't let you face this alone."

    Nastasia bit her lip, then smiled. "I suppose that is all the comfort I need." Nikolai squeezed her hands once more, then sat back with another grimace. "What's wrong?"

    "I'm just sore." Nikolai waved a dismissive hand. "I'll be fine."

    Nastasia eyed him skeptically before realization dawned on her. "Andrey beat you again, didn't he?"

    Nikolai simply shrugged. "I ran a bit late today and was giving several warnings. He was in his rights."

    "Damn his rights," Nastasia spat, bristling in anger. "That man delights in hitting anyone and everyone. Do you know how many times I've caught him beating the errand boys simply for crossing his path? I'm tempted to say he'd even beat me if given the chance. The only creatures he doesn't dare touch are the horses."

    Nikolai was staring at her now, his features hardened with anger. "Why do you say that? Has he insinuated that he wants to hurt you? Has he tried anything?"

    "Of course not. I just meant that..." Nastasia trailed off, shaking her head. "Never mind. Let me see your back."

    Nikolai tensed and looked away. "You don't need to worry about me, Nasi. I'm used to it."

    "Why must you always make things harder for yourself?" She grumbled, sliding off the arm of the chair. She grabbed Nikolai's wrist and dragged him to his feet.

    "Nasi, just let it be," Nikolai insisted.

    She pushed him onto the bed and twisted around behind him. "Let me at least ease the soreness." She lightly touched his arm. "I know Volya will only make it worse once you get home."

    "I'm not going home," Nikolai answered, even as he relented and tugged his shirt off. "Some bastards attacked Yuri last night. He's at a healer's with Mischa. I'm going to stay with them."

    "Is Yuri all right?" Nastasia kept her touch light as she ran her fingers over the welts across his back. Her breath caught when she spied the old faded scars that cut across his bronze skin. No matter how many times she saw them, they still came as a shock.

    Nikolai refused to tell her exactly how he'd earned the scars, but she'd gathered enough information on her own to piece together a story. Nikolai's late father had been a troubled man during his years of service to the Crown. He was as cold and angry as he was fierce and loyal, but Pyotr knew how to mask his actions so as to not lose his position.

    Never once had Nastasia seen a mark upon Maria Yensev. Never once did she recall seeing the proud woman wince in pain or shirk from her husband when they met each other throughout the palace. That didn't mean the signs weren't there, but they were nowhere near as visible as they had been with Volya and Nikolai.

    Even as a little girl, she'd thought it strange that they always hid when their father came by. She'd found it odd that their father didn't tell them stories, or play with them, or tuck them in and tell them goodnight. She remembered spying dark bruises around Volya's wrists and upon asking what they were from, Volya had said, "Father was upset last night."

    And as they grew older, the bruisings grew more common. The winces and mad dashes for hiding places grew more frequent. The pursed lips and fearful glances towards their father were increasingly obvious. However, Nastasia had never seen scars left upon any of them until after Volya began his training as a Royal Guard and Nikolai remained an errand boy, and later, a stablehand.

    When Volya began training as a guard, he'd broken off ties with her completely. His relationship with Nikolai grew strained and now, she wasn't sure if they even spoke to one another as brothers. But he'd stopped showing up at the palace with bruises. He stopped wincing. He stopped hiding from Pyotr. And Pyotr started smiling at him. Started praising him. Started spending time with him.

    The opposite was true for Nikolai. Nastasia remembered days when he didn't even show up at the stables. When she sought out Maria and asked where he was, she'd been informed that he wasn't feeling well and would be better soon. When Nikolai next arrived at the palace, he was always pale-faced and exhausted.

    The first time she saw his scars, they'd snuck away to go swimming in a pond that was hidden within a maze in the Royal Gardens. Nastasia had asked what caused them, and Nikolai ignored the question. They'd gone swimming and she'd never asked again, but the memory of those scars remained. Afterwards, she'd never been able to look at Pyotr without shadows lashing at her fingertips, and when the man finally died, she hid with Nikolai when he avoided the funeral.

    Nikolai cleared his throat, cutting into her thoughts. Nastasia started, realizing she'd been tracing his scars the entire time. His breaths were a little uneven as she summoned her magic. Nastasia pressed her palm to the raised welts, letting her skin grow cold.

    "Yuri will be fine," Nikolai said, finally answering her question. "He seemed to be in good spirits this morning and I'm sure he'll be begging to find the brutes who attacked him so he can repay them tonight."

    "I hope you won't let him."

    "Of course not. Mischa has probably already bashed the pricks' skulls in."

    "And you call him a gentle giant," Nastasia giggled.

    Nikolai looked back at her, a hint of a blush in his cheeks. "If you met him, you'd understand."

    "I hope I can someday."

    "Me too." The minutes passed in silence as Nastasia continued to work. Then, Nikolai spoke in a tone so soft she almost couldn't hear his words.

"Moonlit Princess, so gentle and strong,
How do you brave the woes you live among?
How do you grin as you struggle each day?
How do you laugh, and chase your fears away?

How do you ease my burdens as well?
I think you must have placed me under a spell.
With one glimpse of you, I come undone,
Yet never once have I wished to run."

    Nastasia wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek upon his shoulder blade. Her cool magic seeped from every inch of her body, pressing into Nikolai's warm back. Her heart thundered against her ribs, loud enough that she wondered if he couldn't hear it. But Nikolai said nothing more and merely folded his hand over hers.

•༻᯽༺•

    Night had fallen by the time Nikolai left the palace. He'd stayed with Nastasia as long as possible before Alexei informed him that Volya had gone. He'd also incessantly teased Nikolai about discovering him shirtless in front of Nastasia. Nikolai had convinced the Prince to cease his crowing by promising to sneak him a few toffees from the kitchen the following day.

    Now, Nikolai was returning to Danitza's office to check on Yuri and avoid his brother in the process. It wasn't long before he arrived. Nikolai rapped his knuckles on the door and stepped back as it opened. Danitza frowned at the sight of him, but waved him in. "Don't bother me," she grunted, pointing into Yuri's room before ducking into the kitchen, where a pot of...something, was boiling on the stove.

    "Took you long enough," Yuri said as Nikolai entered the room. "What kept you this time?"

    "You got the switch again," Mischa interrupted. Nikolai's hand drifted to the back of his neck where a few welts were visible. "What for?"

    "Being late, as usual," Nikolai replied.

    "Why don't you kick the bastard's kneecaps in?" Yuri asked. "You know you could."

    "Because then I'd be fired, Andrey would have to be replaced, and Mother would be humiliated and disrespected."

    Both Mischa and Yuri sighed, but inclined their heads. "Did you at least see Nastasia like I asked?" Yuri pressed.

    "I did."

    "And?"

    "And nothing. We talked for a while until it was safe for me to leave."

    Yuri squinted at him. "I don't believe you."

    Nikolai rolled his eyes, trying desperately to keep his blush from resurfacing. "She hopes to someday meet you, Mischa."

    Mischa grinned. "You talked about me?"

    "What about me?" Yuri cut in. "Does she want to meet me?"

    "Yes, she's fascinated by you. But don't let that go to your head."

    "Too late." Yuri folded his arms beneath his head and leaned back. "Princess Nastasia Morozov, first Moon Blessed in 300 years, and a living Saint, is fascinated by me. I'm honored." Nikolai grabbed a blanket off the foot of the bed and whacked Yuri with it. "Asshole!"

    "Shut up or I'll throw your asses into the street!" Danitza hollered from the kitchen.

    "She's a real treasure," Nikolai muttered under his breath.

    "Careful," Mischa warned. "She's a powerful Mage. She probably heard that."

    "I did," Danitza called again. "You'll be lucky if I don't turn you into a toad, Stableboy."

    "No need to worry about that," Yuri laughed. "He's already got a Princess who can kiss him and break the spell." Nikolai flushed crimson and Yuri howled with laughter, which Mischa echoed.