XIX / What Did You Think Would Happen?

It takes Vera a moment to notice that someone is holding the disheveled strands of hair that had come loose from what once used to be a braid, and now was a pathetic excuse for one. It takes her another moment to notice that Mila is crouching behind her, drawing circles on her back with her left palm, her right hand holding her hair back.

"I'd ask if you're okay, but you really look like shit, so I think it's kinda redundant." Mila points out.

Vera doesn't reply.

"Still, I think you should probably rest a little. Have someone check you to make sure you don't have a concussion as well." Mila continues.

"I'm fine," Vera chokes out as she stands up on shaky legs.

"Sure you are." Mila replies, her hand now around Vera's shoulders and it's probably a testament to how fucking bad Vera feels in this moment that there is no biting remark in response.

The younger girl is still looking at her like she doesn't believe a single word that comes out of Vera's mouth as she shakes off her hands, making her way back to the shore where the rest of the crew has gathered itself, looking worse for the wear.

Nikolai is standing knee-deep in the water, staring out into the lake.

By now, the surface has smoothed again, and other than the small lien of destruction they'd left in their wake, the Hummingbird had been swallowed whole. Everything was gone without a trace.

The moment Mila reaches the group, Yelena moves away from where she was crouching next to one of the injured sailors and pulls her into a hug. "You alright?" She says in quiet Kerch and Mila nods.

"I'm fine." She throws her a glance. "But I don't think she is. She looks like shit."

Yelena follows Mila's look to Vera, a frown between her eyebrows. "She does."

Vera decides now is probably not the best time to let them in on the fact that she's fluent in Kerch. Although she supposes the girl's concern, if she can all it that, is somewhat touching.

But really, it's just another person who she has formed a connection with, which makes her just another person Vera will loose inevitably. Another person Vera will have to leave behind too, now that they're back on land and Vera can at last make a silent escape without the fact that she'd drown miserably stopping her.

It's about then that Vera notices just how pissed Yelena looks, her jaw clenched and her eyes hard as she lets out a harsh breath through her nose and presses a gentle kiss on Mila's hair.

Then, she turns on Alina. "What happened back there?" Yelena snaps, and instinctively, Vera tenses. "Kovu was almost killed. We all were!"

Mila was almost killed. Vera can hear it unspoken in the protectiveness in Yelena's voice.

"I don't know." Alina says defensively.

"You don't know?" Yelena echoes, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"I don't know!" Alina calls back, frustration tinting her voice. "I didn't ask to be shoved into the Fold! I'm not the one who went looking for a fight with the volcra! Why don't you ask your captain what happened?"

"She's right." Nikolai says from his spot, sending a last look out into the lake before he turns and makes his way over to them. "I should've given her more warning."

"You should have given us all more warning." Vera hisses and for the briefest of moments he looks to her, his eyes snagging on her ragged form and just for a second she thinks that there might be something like concern in his eyes. But then it's gone again and she's certain it must've been her mind playing tricks on her after what happened in the Fold. After what is still reeling deep in her very bones.

"And I shouldn't have gone after the nest," Nikolai continues, ignoring her comment as he looks at Alina, and then at Yelena before he reaches up, taking off his hat and goggles.

Vera's breath catches at the sight of him.

The bright hazel eyes, the golden hair, his familiar features — he is the boy from Vera's memories again and it feels like he is a ghost that has emerged from the ground to haunt her.

"What the hell is this?" Mal growls, jumping up to his feet, Alina staring at Nikolai sitting on the ground next to him, looking both shocked and a little dazed.

With a sigh, Nikolai runs a hand over his face, looking exhausted at the mere beginning of this conversation or like he'd imagined it going down differently. For the briefest of moments Vera wonders what kind of reaction he'd excepted from the two but this one after his little stunt with concealing his appearance.

"You have a tailor." Alina says slowly and Nikolai winces.

"I am not a tailor." Tolya scowls.

Vera blinks, a little surprised. She would've bet her money on Tamar and not Tolya being the one who'd altered Nikolai's face.

"No, Tolya, your gifts lie elsewhere," Nikolai replies quickly. "Mostly in the celebrated fields of killing and maiming."

"Why would you do this?" Alina asks, confused.

"It was essential that the Darkling not recognize me. He hasn't seen me since I was fourteen, but it wasn't something I wanted to chance." Nikolai explains and Vera draws up her eyebrows a little.

Is he going to explain the entire Sturmhond is Nikolai Lantsov and vice versa thing here and now?

"Who are you?" Mal demands.

"That's a complicated question."

"Actually, it's pretty straight forward. But it does require telling the truth, something you seem thoroughly incapable of." Alina counters, getting up on her feet.

"Oh, I can do it. I'm just not very good at it."

"Sturmhond," Mal snaps, stepping towards Nikolai. "You have exactly ten seconds to explain yourself or Tolya is going to have to make you a whole new face."

Tamar jumps to her feet, suddenly alert. "Someone's coming." She announces and Vera goes still as silence falls over their group.

It takes her a moment to make out the sounds, but then they are obvious. Hoofbeats coming towards them.

Behind her, Nikolai groans. "I knew we'd been sighted. We spend too long on the Fold." He lets out a long sigh, looking at them all. "A wrecked ship and a crew that looks like a bunch of drowned possums. This is not what I had in mind."

Vera is about to demand what in Djel's name exactly he did have in mind, when the advancing group of First Army soldiers breaks through the woods, charging onto the beach.

Her stomach twists at the sight. She takes a step away from the forest, reaching for the knife at her upper thigh before she even consciously makes the decision to do so and then, a warm hand grabs her wrist, stopping her.

"Easy, Alekson." Nikolai mutters into her ear from behind her before looking at Alina. "You too, Summoner. Let me handle this."

"Since you've handled everything else so well, Sturmhond?" Alina hisses back quietly, taking a step towards Vera in the old fighting stance she'd drilled into her only months ago.

"It might be wise if you didn't call me that for a while."

"And why is that?"

"Because it's not my name."

Alina gives Nikolai a confused look as from the line of soldiers in front of them, a young captain draws his sword. "In the name of the King of Ravka, throw down your arms." He commands and Vera's eyes narrow a little as Nikolai leaves her side and steps forward, raising his hands.

"Our weapons are at the bottom of the lake. We are unarmed."

Vera is a little impressed Nikolai can lie with such a blank face — she'd bet her left leg on the fact that Nikolai still has a few weapons on his person, not to mention the twins or the little dagger she'd seen strapped to Mila's right leg.

Djel, Vera herself was still armed to her teeth with all her own blades. And even if she weren't, the fire in her veins is weapon enough.

"State your name and business here."

In response, Nikolai takes off his coat and, at last, as an uneasy stir goes through the line in front of them, Vera connects the dots she'd missed in the darkness of the cabin. Not just olive fabric but the uniform of a First Army soldier. And the double eagle indicating an officer he most definitely had put on after she had left the cabin.

She thinks.

She wasn't really paying attention to his clothes if she's being honest.

"Explain yourself, boy!" An older man barks, breaking through the ranks of soldiers, his eyes fixed on Nikolai with undeniable anger. "State your name and business before I have you stripped of that uniform and strung up from a high tree."

Vera thinks, he is going to regret that sentence rather soon if she has interpreted the look on Nikolai's face — including the slight regret lingering in his eyes as if he does not like at all what he is about to do — correctly.

"I am Nikolai Lantsov, Major of the Twenty-Second Regiment, Soldier of the King's Army, Grand Duke of Udova, ad second son to His Most Royal Majesty, King Alexander the Third, Ruler of the Double Eagle Throne, may his life and reign be long." Nikolai announces and Vera wonders if the list of titles was really necessary or just for the sake of dramatics.

Knowing Nikolai, it really could be either way.

If she had thought the soldiers seemed nervous before, it was nothing to the shock passing over their faces as the older soldier's face contorts in anger.

Jumping from his horse, the man marches towards Nikolai until he is right in front of him, not even an arm's length away. A hand on the hilt of his sort. "You listen to me, you disrespectful whelp." He hisses, fury contorting his voice. "Nikolai Lantsov served under me on the northern border and —"

Vera sees the exact moment it hits him.

She can see the pause in his face, the anger fading away a little as he looks Nikolai over again, the shock and at last the recognition that feels familiar to her. It'd been going through her own head only moments before, when she'd seen his real face again. The familiar appearance.

Then, the soldier drops on one knee. "Forgive me, moi tsarevich. Welcome home."

After a moment, Nikolai gives the row of soldiers a flat look, and then, they, too, unmount from their horses and kneel down.

"You've got to be kidding me," Vera hears Mal mutter in disbelief as Alina gapes at Nikolai.

"Rise." Nikolai says, and as one, the soldiers follow his command. "It's been too long since I was home, but I did not return empty-handed."

Vera's eyes narrow at his words. What the...

"Brothers! I have brough the Sun Summoner back to Ravka."

For the length of a single heartbeat the entire clearing is silent. Then, before Vera has a chance to do so herself, Alina lurches forward and punches Nikolai in his face.

━━━━━

"You're lucky you didn't get punched," Mal points out from where he is pacing in front of Alina inside the tent the three of them had gotten disposed into, with Tamar and Tolya keeping watch outside the entrance.

Vera isn't entirely sure if she should be insulted or flattered about that little fact.

"It was worth it." Alina replies and Vera has to silently agree. It was worth watching Alina apply the right hook technique Vera herself had taught her only a few months ago onto Nikolai's jaw. "Besides, no one's going to shoot the Sun Summoner."

"You just punched a prince, Alina. I guess we can add one more treason to our list."

"First of all, are we so sure he really is a prince? And second, you're just jealous."

"Of course I am jealous. I thought I was going to get to punch him. That isn't the point."

If Vera weren't still so pissed off, she might've thrown in her own opinion. Told them that unfortunately, while a pretty ploy, Sturmhond and Nikolai Lantsov were one and the same person.

But as it is, she is still seething in silence, working on embedding the tip of her dagger into the table she's taken a seat at again and again in a pitiful attempt to try and distract herself from the fact that, really, she is imagining the table in front of her, now littered with dozens of tiny holes, to be Nikolai's face.

Because, honestly, what did she expect? He'd practically told her what he was planning to do. She'd known who he really was. He'd told them he had a client who wanted to meet Alina in Os Kervo. Then, he had flown straight past Os Kervo. Listen to what he has to say and if you don't like it, you can just leave.

Nikolai Lantsov had a client in Ravka who wanted to see the Sun Summoner.

Djel, how could she have been so stupid?

Her movements come to a temporary halt as the tent flaps part and she glares at them, only to find it's just a servant bringing them food and her expression softens a little as the sets down the pitcher of water, a bottle of kvas and glasses as well as a few small plates for them.

The moment she notices the golden material and the double eagle on them, her glare returns as she stares the servant, who noticeably avoids her daze, down.

Maybe she's just imagining it, but he cannot get out of the tent fast enough.

Vera's jaw tenses as she regards the food with open distain and wonders if it'll be worth enduring the hunger and the waste if she tosses it right into Nikolai's stupid, pretty face.

"What happened back there?" Mal asks, quieter now and for a moment, Vera lets go of her anger long enough to turn her attention onto the two and notice that Mal is discussing this openly with her in the room.

When had that happened? That little inkling of trust between them?

Vera has no idea but somehow, it is there when she looks for it.

She's not sure what to make of that realization, either.

"I lost my temper," Alina replies with a shrug as she shakes out her knuckles.

Mal gives her a look. "That's not what I meant. What happened on the Fold?"

Alina hesitates for a moment. "I was just tired." She says, looking at the plate of foot in her hands she had not touched yet.

"You used a lot more of your power when we escaped from the nichevo'ya, and you never faltered. Is it the fetter?" Mal asks with a frown.

"The fetter makes me stronger." Alina replies and this time, Vera can tell she is saying the truth. Again, the other Etherealnik pauses for a moment. "When we were fighting the volcra, did they sound different to you?" She asks, her voice more quiet this time as she looks first at Mal then Vera.

"Different how?"

"More... human?"

Vera draws her eyebrows together a little as Mal gives her a look of incomprehension. "No, they sounded pretty much like they always do. Like monsters who want to eat us. What happened, Alina?"

"I told you, I was tired. I lost focus." Alina says and Vera knows it's a lie. She just doesn't know why Alina is lying.

She has a feeling it's because Mal won't like the answer – at least in part.

Mal looks frustrated as he steps away from Alina. "If you want to lie to me, go ahead. But I'm not going to pretend to believe you."

"Why not? It's only common courtesy." Nikolai's voice comes from the entrance as he walks into the tent, the flaps closing behind him and the next moment, the dagger in Vera's hand embeds itself into the wood of the table again with a dull noise. Her grip on it so tight, her knuckles are turning white.

Nikolai's hazel eyes muster her and a lazy smile tugs on the corners of his lips. "Hello, Vera. How nice to see you too again."

Vera's eyes flashes in what he can only describe murderous.

Nikolai's smile widens at the sight.

"I'm just here to talk." He says and Vera glares at him.

"Then talk." She hisses quietly, yanking the blade out of the wood. Also, she notices with a jab of disappointment, that her kefta is not with him; they'd given the three of them, as the rest of Nikolai's crew Vera supposes, clean, and dry, clothing. And after a good amount of talking her down and coaxing her into agreeing to it, someone had taken Vera's kefta to clean it, too.

She really wants it back before she makes a break for it.

"Who are you and what are you playing at?" Mal demands and Nikolai turns to him.

"Nikolai Lantsov. Please don't make me recite my titles again. It's no fun for anybody, and the only important one is prince."

"And what about Sturmhond?" Alina demands.

"I'm also Sturmhond, commander of the Volkvolny, scourge of the True Sea."

Vera scoffs. "Scourge." She repeats, her voice dripping with distain as she rises from her chair and marches around the table until she stands in front of him.

The moment she sees Nikolai's reaction she regrets it because apparently, from the way his eyes flash with grim delight, he'd seen her remark as an opening. Which it definitely was not. "Well, I'm vexing at the least."

"This is not the time to be entertaining." Vera snaps back, anger rising.

"Please." Nikolai says, almost coaxing. "Sit. Eat. I don't know about you, but I find everything much more understandable when seated. Something about circulation, I suspect. Reclining is, of course, preferable, but I don't think we're on those kinds of terms yet."

None of them move.

"Alright, well, I'm going to sit. I find playing the returning hero a most wearying task and I am positively worn out." He continues as he reaches out and pours himself a glass of kvas, settling into one of the chairs. As he does, Nikolai takes a sip before grimacing a little. "Awful stuff. Never could stomach it."

Alina gives him a frustrated look. "Then order yourself some brandy, Your Highness. I'm sure they'll bring you all you want."

Nikolai gives her a bright smile. "True enough. I suppose I could bathe in a tub of it. I just might." He turns to Vera. "There'd be place for another person, too, if that person would be so inclined."

Scratch might. Vera is going to use Nikolai's face instead of the table for her blade.

Mal throws up his hands in annoyance and turns to the entrance as Alina crosses her arms in front of her chest. "You can't honestly expect us to believe any of this."

Nikolai holds up a hand and wiggles his fingers. "I do have the royal seal."

"You probably stole it from the real Prince Nikolai."

"I served with Raevsky. He knows me."

"Maybe you stole the prince's face too."

"Then ask Vera. She knew who I am even before the beach."

Mal and Alina turn to Vera at the words, looking somewhere between surprised and betrayed.

Vera takes a step towards Nikolai. "Careful, whelp."

Nikolai winks. "I knew you'd like Raevsky's nickname for me." He points out before the lightheartedness fades a little from his expression and he lets out a sigh as he looks back at Alina and Mal. "You have to understand, the only place I could safely reveal my identity was here in Ravka. Only the most trusted members knew who I really was; Tolya, Tamar, Privyet, a few of the Etherealki. The rest... well, they're good men, but they're also mercenaries and pirates." He pauses, looking back at Vera. "Vera just figured it out on her own based on what she remembers from out encounters in Os Alta before I left and I asked her to keep it secret until we'd reached Ravkan soil."

He'd most certainly never asked such a thing and she isn't entirely sure if she can call that stunt in the belly of the whaler figuring it out on her own. Nikolai had practically tossed his true identity right in her face.

"So you deceived your own crew?" Alina asks.

"On the seas, Nikolai Lantsov is more valuable as a hostage than as a captain. Hard to command a ship when you're constantly worrying about being based on the head late at night and then ransomed to your royal papa."

Knowing the Ravkan King, Vera has to admit, she does understand Nikolai's unwillingness for that particular alternative of events.

Alina shakes her head slowly. "None of this makes any sense. Prince Nikolai is supposed to be off somewhere studying boats or –"

"I did apprentice with a Fjerdan shipbuilder. And a Zemeni gunsmith. And a civil engineer from the Han Providence of Bolh. Tried my hand at poetry for a while. The results were... unfortunate. These days, being Sturmhond requires most of my attention."

"So one day you decided to cast off your life of luxury and try your hand at playing pirate?" Mal says.

"Privateer," Nikolai corrects. "And I wasn't playing at anything. I knew I could do more for Ravka as Sturmhod than learning about at court."

"And just where do the King and Queen think you are?" Alina asks.

"The university of Ketterdam. Lovely place. Very lofty. There's an extremely well-compensated shipping clerk sitting through my philosophy classes as we speak. Gets passable grades, answers to Nikolai, drinks copiously and often so no one gets suspicious."

"Why?"

"I tried. I really did. But I've never been good at sitting still. Drove my nanny to distraction– well, nannies. There was quite an army of them, as I recall."

Vera lets out a snort, shaking her head. What she would not have given to be send to Ketterdam to study in peace by her family back in Fjerda.

"I mean, why go through this whole charade?" Alina asks, looking more and more frustrated every time Nikolai opens his mouth to speak.

"I'm second in line for the Ravkan throne. I nearly had to run away to do my military service. I don't think m parents would approve my picking off Zemeni pirates and breaking Fjerdan blockades. They're rather fond of Sturmhond, though."

"Fine. You're a prince. You're a privateer. You're a prat." Mal says from his place at the entrance. "What do you want with us?"

"Your help. The game has changed. The Fold is expanding. The First Arms is close to outright revolt. The Darkling's coup may have failed, but it shattered the Second Army and Ravka is on the brink of collapse."

Ah, so nothing important then.

"And let me guess: you're just the one to put things right?" Alina says slowly.

"Did you meet my brother, Vasily, when you were at court? He cares more about horses and his next drink of whiskey that his people. My father never had more than a passing interest in governing Ravka, and reports are he's lost even that. This country is coming apart. Someone needs to put it back together before it's too late."

"Vasily is the heir." Alina says.

"I think he can be convinced to be stepped aside."

"That's why you dragged us back here?" Alina says, disbelief in her voice. "Because you want to be king?"

"I dragged you back here because the Apparat has practically turned you into a living Saint and the people love you. I dragged you back here because your power is the key to Ravka's survival."

Alina slams her palms into the table. "You dragged us back here so you could make a grand entrance with the Sun Summoner and steal your brother's throne!"

"I'm not going to apologize for being ambitious. It doesn't change that I'm the best man for the job."

"Of course you are." Alina scoffs.

Unfortunately, even Vera has to admit Nikolai isn't wrong. Out of the prospects – his father, his brother, the Darkling, or Djel forbid the Apparat– he really was the best candidate.

It doesn't mean it makes her any more inclined to return to the Ravkan capital.

"Come back to Os Alta with me." Nikolai says softly, looking at each of them.

"Why? So you can show me off like some kind of prize goat?" Alina snaps and Vera almost adds, so your father can have me executed for being one of the Darkling's grisha?

"I know you don't trust me. You have no reason to. But I'll abide by what I promised you aboard the Volkvolny. Listen to what I have to offer. If you're still not interested, Sturmhond's ships will take you anywhere in the world. I think you'll stay. I think I can give you something no one else can."

"This ought to be good," Mal mutters.

"I can give you the chance to change Ravka. I can give you the chance to bring your people hope."

"Oh, is that all? And just how am I supposed to do that?" Alina huffs.

"By helping me unite the First and Second Armies." Nikolai says and for a brief second, he glances at Vera and she swears there is something like regret in his eyes as he continues. "By becoming my Queen."

The next moment, Mal lurches forward, grabbing Nikolai by the collar and yanking him up before slamming him against one of the tent posts.

"Easy now, mustn't get blood on the uniform." Nikolai says with a wince. "Let me explain–"

"Try explaining with my first in your mouth."

Before Mal has the chance to react, Nikolai has ducked out of his grasp and a knife appears in his grip. "Step back, Oretsev. I'm keeping my temper for their sake, but I'd just as soon gut you like a carp."

"Try it."

"Enough!" Alina exclaims, blinding light flashing in the tent for a moment, before it fades away and Alina glares at the two. "Sturmhond, sheathe that weapon or you'll be the one who gets gutted. Mal, stand down."

Nikolai tugs at his sleeves. "I'm not proposing a love match, you heartsick oaf," He says to Mal and Vera must be the most stupid idiot to ever walk this earth when she had thought she'd seen regret in Nikolai's eyes because all she sees now is cool confidence. "Just a political alliance. If you'd stop and think for a minute, you'd see it makes good sense for the country."

"You mean it makes good sense for you." Mal shoots back.

"Can't both be true? I've served in the military. I understand warfare, and I understand weaponry. I know the First Army will follow me. I may be second in line, but I have a blood right to the throne."

"You don't have a right to her." Mal growls, stepping towards Nikolai.

"What did you think was going to happen? Did you think you could just carry off one of the most powerful Grisha in the world like some peasant girl you tumbled in a barn? Is that how you think this story ends? I'm trying to keep a country from falling apart, not steal your best girl."

"That's enough," Alina says softly, taking a small step towards Vera but neither of them seem to notice.

"You can stay at the palace. Perhaps as the captain of her personal guard? It wouldn't be the first such arrangement."

"You make me sick."

"I'm a depraved monster, I know. Just think about what I'm saying for a moment."

"I don't need to think about it! And neither does she. It isn't going to happen."

"It would be a marriage in name only," Nikolai argues before pausing with a grin to Mal. "Except for the matter of producing heirs."

There's a surge of fury through the numbing shock in Vera's chest at the words she does not expect. But it's the expression on Alina's face as Mal lurches toward Nikolai again that makes her move her own body between them.

"That is enough. What is she? A piece of cattle to bater over? Neither of you have any right to take part in a conversation about what Alina wants." Vera snarls before she turns to Nikolai, her eyes flashing dangerously.

The Inferni does not say anything else, but for a moment, Alina swears that when his hazel eyes meet Vera's pale blue ones, whatever Nikolai sees in them makes him flinch away a little.

"I'm not going to marry you." She says, taking a step towards them. "But I will return to Os Alta with you."

Mal turn to her. "Alina –"

"Mal, we've always said we'd find a way to come back to Ravka, that we'd find a way to help. If we don't do something, there may not be a Ravka to come back to." Alina says before turning back to Nikolai. "I'll return to Os Alta with you, and I'll consider helping you make a bid for the throne, but I want the Second Army."

Vera goes still for a moment, a little surprised.

"The people love you Alina, but I was thinking more of a symbolic title–"

"I'm not a symbol and I am tired of being a pawn."

"No. It's too dangerous. It would be like painting a target on your back." Mal begins.

Vera cuts him off. "There already is a target on her back. On all our backs, Oretsev, in case you haven't caught on."

"Have you even held a command?" Nikolai says, doubt clear in his voice.

"No." Alina says slowly.

"You have no experience, no precedent and no claim. The Second Army has been led by Darklings since it was founded."

"Age and birthright don't matter to the Grisha. All they care about is power. I'm the only Grisha to ever wear two amplifiers. And I'm the only Grisha alive powerful enough to take on the Darkling's shadow soldiers. No one else can do what I can." She pauses, glancing at Vera. "And they respect Vera. She'd be at my side, and she could advise me on the things that I have not yet had much experience in."

There's a question, an offer in Alina's eyes and there's a crack in Vera's glacier heart at the sight.

Alina would never know how much it meant to Vera for her to be considered as a power player in her own right, just as who she was, without blood or husbands or as a pawn. Just as Vera Alekson.

If only she planned on sticking around long enough for them to ever get to the reality of this discussion.

Nikolai glances at Vera for a moment, but as soon as he does, he looks back at Alina, contemplating. "All right, Summoner," He says at last, holding out his hand. "Help me win the people and the Grisha are yours."

"Really?" Alina blurts out in surprise.

"If you plan on to lead an army, you'd better lean to act the part." Nikolai says with a laugh. It's a honest one and another little shard the lines of spiderwebbed cracks in Vera's glacier heart. "The proper response is, I knew you'd see sense."

Vera watches as they shake hands.

"As for my proposal..."

"Don't push your luck. I said I'd go to Os Alta with you and that's it."

"And where will I go?" Mal says quietly.

Vera feels the question echoed in her chest and a fresh surge of anger rises up in her. At herself more than anyone else. She knows where she is going. She knows what the only sensible thing to do is. So what the hell is the problem with her stupid, weak heart?

"I... I thought you'd come with me."

"As what? The captain of you personal guard?"

Alina's cheeks heat at Mal's remark and Nikolai clears his throat. "As much as I'd love to see how this plays out, I do have some arrangements to make. Unless, of course–"

"Get out." Mal says, his voice hard.

"Right then. I'll leave you to it." Nikolai says quickly.

When he turns to leave the tent, he finds that Vera is already gone.

AUTHOR'S NOTE
as much as i am glad to see vera being forced to confront the fact that she has ✨feelings✨......... nikolai...... what is you doing baby?

please don't be a silent reader and leave a comment or two 💖 it's always makes it so much more fun to write when i interact with my readers tbh 🤣💖