The pads of Tolya's fingers drifted across the pages of a well-worn book. Saltwater sprays had rippled the parchment, and the leather binding faded and sun-bleached. It was by the Saint's will that it had survived such a journey. Alongside his swords and pistols, the collection of Zemmini poetry was one of the only material possessions he had to his name.

In the solitude of the palace greenhouse, Tolya could almost forget that the place belonged to such an unbearable king. The craftsmanship of the gardens was unmistakably fabricator. The ceilings were replaced with glass panes that vaulted outward like a bubble from a carnivalist's ring. Grisha's power enriched the very soil from which the flowers grew.

Tolya's sleeves were shoved to his biceps, where thick dark lines of ink curled across his tanned skin. His tattoos hadn't seen the light of day in months. Even on the hottest afternoons at sea, he covered every whisper of his religion. The mark of the Sun Saint was as much a part of him as the blood in his veins, but if he wanted to protect Alina, there were things that must be hidden.

He loathed hiding so much of himself from the very Saint he worshiped. He yearned for her to see him- all of him. When her dark eyes met his, he felt the lines of his tattoos like the burn of a brand. The mere suggestion of choosing some of the pilgrims to staff Alina's personal guard had caused her hackles to rise. Her distrust of those who viewed her as a saint was deep-seated, and no matter how many logical reasons he or Tamar gave in support of the choice, she vehemently refused.

Tolya would be lying if he said Alina's words hadn't stung. Zealots, religious fanatics, she called them. If only Alina knew that he was one of those who bowed to sunlight. He reveled in her openness with him, the way she turned to him and Tamar when uncertainty clouded her sight. He didn't want to imagine how it would all disappear if Alina learned the truth -- that he whispered her name in the moonlight of his bedroom, knelt before the sign of the sun, and took communion in her name.

It was plain to see how corrupt the Ravkan court was. Of course, the whispers of its dysfunction spread throughout the continent like a contagion, but it was something else to see himself. The palace walls were rife with deception, petty squabbles, and thoughtless consumption. The banquet celebrating Nikolai's return was enough to turn his stomach.

Such blatant disregard for their people's suffering, while the nobles practically dripped with jewels and ate feasts large enough for both armies to live for a week. He'd struggled to keep the smile on his face that night, even when he knew it was a reason to celebrate. The Grisha were once again welcome in Ravka. All because of Alina.

Tolya's ears picked up footsteps tapping against flattened cobblestones. He'd been aware of another heartbeat for almost half an hour now, but assumed it must have been one of the groundskeepers hard at work on the far side of the greenhouse. The flash of white and blue fabric through the thick foliage of a flowering tree was not what he was expecting. Princess Olenna jumped slightly as she stepped into view, quickly masking her surprise with a pleasant smile in his direction.

"I thought I was the only one who came here." She peered around him, likely searching for anyone else in his company — a clear glass bottle dangled from her hand. The brass pump and spout were partially hidden in the folds of her baby blue skirt. The liquid inside tinted brown with what must have been a type of fertilizer.

Tolya hesitated, looking at the woman dressed in an extravagant, billowing gown. She was so out of place, surrounded by dirt and greenery that he could only stare with his finger poised to turn a page. When she stared back at him, he remembered with a jolt to bow his head to the princess. "My apologies for startling you. I thought the same until this very moment."

Olenna's head tilted, and Tolya felt he was being studied. She must've decided something, for her shoulders relaxed, and she moved towards the nearest table of sprouting plants, speaking as she went.

"I've been coming here since I was a girl." She raised the carafe of liquid and pressed down on the trigger. A puff of mist showered the fresh leaves. "None but the gardeners come through this part. It's nice to be alone sometimes."

Tolya's face warmed. He was intruding, then. He rose from the bench, tucking his book beneath his arm. "I'll leave you be." Olenna's eyes widened, and she shook her head.

"No!" Olenna waved a hand to stop him from leaving, dropping the other and abandoning her task. "It's alright. There's more than enough room for two." Tolya hesitated, studying her face for a moment. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she was nervous. He had half a mind to leave anyway, but he remained.

It was one thing to hear about her and Nikolai's royal upbringing, but another to be face-to-face with the girl in those wild tales. On quiet nights at sea, Nikolai spoke of their closeness as children and his devotion to his little sister. But it had been many years since Nikolai resided in Os Alta. Much could change in that time. Most glaringly, Olenna was no longer a girl, but a grown woman. A woman who, for some odd reason, wore her finest gown to tend her garden.

From the glint in her eyes, as he held her beneath the glistening chandeliers the night of Nikolai's ball, Tolya doubted Olenna lost her spark. Even her dancing exuded strength and independence. While Tolya guided their entwined bodies around the dancefloor, he had the sense that he was only ever moving in her predetermined path. It was hidden beneath layers of cordiality, but Olenna was unmistakably a Lantsov eagle, with a sharpened beak and lethal talons.

Tolya watched a maelstrom of emotion flicker across her face. Perhaps if he were a little faster, he could've captured them to study later that night as he lay awake and restless in his too soft bed. "It must be impossible to find peace in a place like this," Tolya mused. Olenna's gaze met his, pure blue like the sea he longed to return to. The corner of her lips curled in a tired smile.

He could see cracks spiderwebbed across her facade, revealing the woman beneath the diplomat for a fraction of a moment. She was worn and raw - uncertain. It was such a jarring contradiction to what he knew of her.

"You have no idea." Her words were more a sigh than a sentence, heavy and thick like a wool coat draped across her shoulders. Tolya only nodded, dropping his gaze to the book in his lap. She was correct. He could never know what it was like to be in her shoes, just as the princess had no glimpse into his upbringing in the dregs of society.

Olenna turned back to the table of plants and resumed her job of misting the new growth. Tolya tried to do the same with his reading, but every few moments, the fabric of her dress would hiss in time with her misting, and his eyes would find her again. It was far more difficult to ignore her presence than he thought.

He watched her from the corner of his eye as she approached a magnificent bush of snow-white roses. Mud had crept up the hem of her gown as it dragged across the ground. If Olenna noticed, she must not have cared.

Tolya jutted his chin towards the white roses. "Do you care for them yourself?"

Olenna looked over her shoulder at him. "When I can get away from the palace, yes. It's one of the few indulgences I can afford. My mother detests it when I return with soil caked beneath my fingernails. But I've gotten much better at hiding the evidence." Olenna looked down at her billowing petticoat. She tugged at the edges of the fabric as if to emphasize. "If she knew I was here, in this ridiculous gown, I'd be bound for the guillotine."

Olenna's smile grew wider when she looked up at him. Her eyes gleamed like the stars above the Volkvolny on a cloudless night. Nikolai had an identical grin when he came up with a particularly devious scheme or brilliant invention. Until now, Tolya hadn't thought they looked much alike aside from their sandy hair. Now, the similarities were indisputable. Tolya smiled back and tentatively moved closer. She stiffened almost imperceptibly.

"The Roses are Shu, aren't they?" He asked, keeping his gaze on the flowers. Olenna softened again. She stepped aside to allow him access.

"They were a wedding gift to my parents from Queen Leyti Kir-Taban's personal gardens. It was a show of good faith during one of the many attempts at peace negotiations between our two countries. I'm surprised they didn't shrivel up and die at the first taste of Ravkan soil. But roses are a formidable thing, aren't they?"

Tolya clasped his hand around the wrist holding his book and leaned in to get a whiff of the sweet perfume. Tolya's eyes fluttered shut, and for the briefest moment, he could feel his mother's fingers running through his hair as the wind rustled the tall grass around them. Precious few memories remained from this time. They came and went like a glimpse of a mermaid beneath the waves. There, then gone again, leaving him to wonder if they were real or just a supplement of his imagination.

Tolya sighed, muscles uncoiling from unrealized tension. His lashes lifted, and he studied each vein in the roses' velvet petals. His voice softened, "Tamar and I don't remember much of our time in Shu Han. We traveled to Novyi Zem when we were only five. But I remember the smell of the air, wet soil after a monsoon, and roses. Though the ones we knew were wild. They're everywhere in Shu Han, like dandelions in spring."

Olenna reached out to run a delicate finger along the edge of a blossom. She stepped closer to the bush, her embroidered silk shoes stepping into a puddle of muddy water. She didn't seem to mind. Tolya liked the image of her surrounded by wild roses, her hair loose from its elaborate updo. He imagined her hair might curl into a wild golden mane if left free around her shoulders.

"I've always wished to visit Shu Han." Olenna's voice was silken and dreamlike. "It's not exactly the safest place for a Ravkan Royal. I hope it will someday change, and I can travel without fear."

If Sankta Alina had anything to do with it, Tolya was sure it would change. Wasn't his own half-Shu heritage proof that there could be peace between their people? The Sun Saint herself was a mix of the two, and if anyone could bring an end to the war, he knew it would be her.

"Nikolai and I always dreamed of seeing the world," Olenna muttered, almost to herself. "He achieved it without me, it seems."

"There's still time. There are ways to protect you. Nikolai had himself tailored every week as Sturmhond. Most of the crew didn't even know his secret."

"My brother has a sort of freedom I will never have. I can't take a leave of study. I must marry, and I can't do that if I'm not at court. Believe me, if there were a way, I would've thought of it by now." There was such sorrow in her eyes, but not only that, there was rage, too. She sank down and set the mister bottle atop the stone path with a clink. When she stood again, she pulled a pair of sheers from the folds of her skirts. To Tolya's surprise she leaned forward and clipped the stem of a particularly luscious porcelain rose. With the flower pinched between her delicate fingers she turned to face him.

"For you." She lifted the single rose between them. "A little bit of home." Tolya didn't know whether to stare at her cerulean eyes or the rose that she twirled between her fingers. He reached for it, and his fingers brushed against hers, closing around the stem.

A sharp hissing interrupted his thoughts. Tolya's hand flew to the dagger at his hip, eyes darting to the catwalks looming above them in search of hidden threats. Tolya moved his body to block Olenna's, tossing his book carelessly onto the bench he'd just stood from. His heart tripled in speed, and a shot of adrenaline rushed through his veins. Tolya's power scanned the greenhouse for hidden heartbeats.

All he found was the steady thrum of Olenna's pulse beside him. A soft hand came to rest atop his, gripping the pommel of his dagger. Tolya looked over his shoulder to Olenna and took quick stock of her position. He wasn't expecting to find her laughing with a hand pressed to her stomach.

"It's the irrigation system." Olenna grinned up at him. Tolya's face scrunched as he again searched the catwalks above them for a hidden enemy. Clouds of gray erupted from a series of interconnected copper pipes. Cool mist kissed Tolya's cheeks, washing away his vigilance in an instant. He chuckled, stepping away from Olenna and removing his hand from the dagger. He felt silly pulling a blade on a mere puff of mist. Olenna shut her eyes, tilted her chin, and smiled into the falling shower.

"It's the most advanced outside Novyi Zem. The fabricators and Tidemakers who designed it were some of the brightest the little palace has ever seen."

Tolya wasn't watching the pipes, but the princess was an arm's length away from him. "I've never seen anything like it." Her blonde hair was already starting to curl at the edges against the restraints of its styling. What might she look like with her hair set free? Olenna opened her eyes and met his gaze, then pointed to the nearest spout.

"My brother would be much more adept at explaining the intricacies, but in simple terms, it was designed to measure the moisture in the air and distribute mist when it gets below a certain level." The pages of Tolya's book were growing soggy where he'd thrown it, but he didn't dare tear his gaze away from the princess. "A section of it needed repairs last summer, and it took the fabricators ages to figure out how they'd gotten it to work in the first place. And in the meantime, the groundskeepers had to mist the whole section by hand."

"They have something similar in Novyi Zem," Tolya remembered the machinery he'd seen on the edge of emerald-green fields as steadfastly as he saw the sunrise in the mornings. "Though those run beneath the ground throughout the fields. It's how they have such success in coffee production. It takes constant watering to produce a crop."

Olenna tilted her head, a crease forming between her brows. She hummed in consideration and looked at the pipes again, tapping a finger against her lips. "Perhaps I could get Nikolai to mention it in the next council meeting. It may help ease the burden of our farmers during the dry seasons if we could implement something similar throughout the countryside."

"You don't attend the meetings yourself?" Tolya found it odd; he'd assumed she also attended the meetings Nikolai and Alina frequented. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen her amongst the crowd filing out of the council room.

"I was practically chased from the room the last time I tried."

Tolya frowned, "If Nikolai knew--"

"I don't need my brother to fight my battles for me."

"No, you don't." Tolya nodded, "I have a feeling you're clever enough to find a way into that room despite their bigotry."

"My brother and I must be more similar than I thought if you already have me figured out." Olenna's lips turned in the same amused smile her brother often sported. But this one didn't quite reach her eyes. Something stirred in Tolya's chest. He'd seen how affected both Olenna and Nikolai had been since their arrival. Nikolai described them as being practically inseparable. Yet Tolya hadn't seen them exchange more than a few frosty words, much to Nikolai's distress.

"If it helps, Nikolai wrote to you almost every week," Tolya weighed each word carefully, very aware that he may be overstepping his bounds. She was still a princess, even if she was alarmingly easy to talk to. Her shoulders stiffened, but Tolya saw the way she watched him curiously from the corner of her eye. "The crew thought he had some mistress back in Ravka, and teased him about it relentlessly. Tamar and I knew, of course, that it was a sister. But we couldn't tell them that without bringing up more questions."

"He lied in every letter." Olenna ran a finger along a waxen umbrella leaf, and mist pooled in the center vein, dripping down and onto the path below. "He'd tell me about what he was studying. Kerch Trading and Zemini Firearms, engineering. All the things he found fascinating. He'd complain about his lumpy mattress and a classmate who'd read him poetry until his ears bled." Tolya abruptly barked a laugh. Olenna jumped a little. It was full-bodied and unconfined. Despite the shock, Olenna was smiling. Tolya knew his eyes crinkled at the corners when he looked at her.

"I'm fairly certain he was talking about me." His words were muddied with laughter. He'd bet Tamar's life on that.

Olenna's brows lifted. "You?" She blinked, evidently having difficulty absorbing this. Tolya cupped the back of his neck with a massive hand as warmth pooled in his cheeks.

"He hated it when I'd read poetry on the ship. He compared it to the sound of a dying whale, if I remember correctly?" Tolya could hear Nikolai's boisterous complaints as clear as day.

Olenna's answering laugh was strangled, as if she'd tried and failed to hold it back.

"That does sound like him. Poetry was the one love we never shared." Olenna was grinning now, a full, toothy, ear-to-ear grin. The first Toyla had seen. He decided it suited her. Olenna angled her body away from him and tilted her watering can over the lip of a chamomile pot. His face felt hot, even with the cool mist falling on his cheeks. A solemn silence fell over them again. Tolya's amusement melted away as he saw a flicker of sorrow resurface on her face.

Tolya sighed, "Ordinarily, I'd let him lie in the bed he made himself, but in this case, I do believe you should try to work it out." He thought of Tamar then, and knew if it were his sister, he'd want someone to give him the push he needed to reconcile. "While you may not be Kebben, it's clear that your bond as siblings is stronger than most. Nikolai is miserable without you. He's been staring at the same page of his ledgers for at least an hour." Olenna bit her lip and tucked her chin, staring contemplatively at the leaf in front of her.

"If Tamar had done something like this, how would you respond?" She tilted her head to the side to look up at him. Her gaze was as unguarded as he'd seen from her. Tolya's expression softened further at the thought of his Kebben.

"If Tamar had done this, I'd kick her ass--" Tolya cut himself off with a sputtering cough. His cheeks burned. "Please pardon my language, your highness."

Olenna's lips lifted in a lopsided smile. "I have two older brothers, Tolya. My ears have heard far worse than ass."

Tolya huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Alright, then. I'd kick her ass." His jovial tone faded into earnest. "But then, I would try to understand. I'd talk to her." He pitied the bind Olenna was in. It was a betrayal, even if Nikolai intended to spare her. Tolya couldn't imagine being apart from Tamar for more than a fortnight, let alone four long years. It would tear at his heart, digging deeper each passing day. To find that all that pain had been for naught?

Olenna's eyes fell to her feet. "That is something we are at once proficient and inept at. We Lantsovs have a talent for spinning words. Yet when speaking from our hearts, I fear we lose our voices entirely." Tolya hummed, and Olenna turned her head to assess him. "What was he like?" Her question was steeped in melancholy. "When he was Sturmhond?"

"He still is."

Olenna shook her head, "Yes, but what is he like when he's just a bastard pirate and not a prince?"

Tolya dipped his chin and suppressed a grin. There were so many memories to choose from when it came to Sturmhond. He'd known Nikolai for over three years now, and yet Nikolai had quickly become a brother to him. Tolya pictured the first moment he truly saw Nikolai for what he was, a natural-born leader and a devilish captain. "He was insufferable, but unbelievably charming at the same time. He's brilliant -- saved my life more than a few times in a fight. He designed an arsenal of weapons and inventions that not even a fabricator could have. He'd spend the better part of a day locked up in his quarters, tinkering and sketching. He could inspire scores of men to die for him, not because of his position, but the respect he gave every member of our crew."

"It sounds like he got to live the life he always wanted." Olenna's expression was bittersweet.

"He did." Tolya admitted, "But no matter how far he ran, he was still a prince. And Ravka needs him more now than ever." His words hung between them, as tangible as the mist lingering in the atmosphere. Olenna turned her head, looking off as if to study a nearby plant. But Tolya caught the shimmer of burgeoning tears at her lash line.

Olenna's hand suddenly flew to her chest, and she started. "Oh!" She hurried over to the bench he'd vacated. "Your book is soaked!" Olenna scooped up the soggy pages and hastily wiped the leather against the fine cloth of her skirt.

"It's seen worse." Tolya shrugged. It wasn't the first time it had been drenched on the waves. The leather was spotted with water stains. Olenna grimaced as she looked it over. His cheeks grew warm. The book's state of dilapidation was all the more apparent in the princess's manicured hands.

"Have you visited the library yet?" She asked, cradling the book in her hands as she returned to his side. "We may not have this exact publication, but I'm sure there is something there to spark your interest." She set the rose she'd cut for him atop its cover and handed it back to him.

"Yes, I've been assisting General Starkov in some research there. But I have yet to browse the poetry stacks." He'd been too busy scouring every dusty tome he could find for information. It would have gone infinitely faster had he been allowed to reach out to some of his contacts in the Pilgrim camp. But he was forced to search with one hand tied behind his back. At this point, a book to read for pleasure would be a saint's gift.

"Perhaps I could have a few of my favorites sent to your quarters for you?" Olenna knotted her fingers at the waist of her bodice and craned her neck to smile up at him. "If you enjoy Mokoena's works, you must read Kuznetsov." A spark of intrigue warmed Tolya's chest at the suggestion. He hadn't had much time to explore the vastness of what Ravkan Poets had to offer. Being at sea for years made his reading materials limited to what they could pillage from their conquests. Sea Captains tended to prefer books for practicality, mariners' tricks, and solar navigation, not classical poetry.

"I wouldn't want to trouble you, your highness. I'm sure you have more important things to attend to than my education in Ravkan poetry." Tolya bowed slightly. Surely she had better things to do than entertain his wandering mind. Yet Olenna shook her head with a giggle.

"I have many more important things, but none I'd actually enjoy doing." She began walking further down the line of plants. "This way, once you read a few, you can share your thoughts with me."

Tolya smiled and decided that he liked the princess's company very much indeed. "I'd like that, your highness."

Olenna stopped, waiting for his long legs to catch up with her. Then she shoved out her free hand in a shockingly pedestrian gesture of greeting. "Call me Olenna."

Tolya only hesitated a second before clasping her hand in his. "Olenna." She gave his hand a firm shake, then laughed and turned to meander down the path a little further. He watched her go, her skirts swaying lazily with each step. "I'll look forward to your poetry recommendations."

"And I look forward to hearing your thoughts." She called back, and he grinned. Tolya tucked the supple rose between the pages of his book. Its petals would press and preserve beneath the weight of its cover, drying into a sweet scented reminder of their conversation beneath the canopy of the palace greenhouse. 

NOTE

I've had this 80% done in my drafts for so long and I've been missing writing so very much. This fic is so dear to me and I can never give up completely. Thank you to all the rereads and new reads you guys have given it. I hope to devote time to writing again in the coming year as it's something that genuinely makes me so happy but I don't want to promise any immediate updates or anything. Please let me know what you think of this chapter and what you'd like to see as I continue to write!