“Stop doing that,” she snapped. “Stop kneeling.” But she didn’t keep him from taking her hand. His touch was comforting, familiar, something to hold on to.

“I can’t. It’s just what my knees do now. I noticed your tricky little turn of phrase back there. You said that you would serve Ravka, but you didn’t actually say you would accept the crown.”

“Because I’m hoping you’ll come to your senses and see this is impossible.”

Nikolai grinned. “You know how I feel about that word.”

He looked positively giddy.

“How can you do it?” she asked. “How can you just give up the throne you’ve fought so hard for?”

“Because I was never fighting for the throne. Not really. The battle was always for this disaster of a country. The Darkling believed that he was the key to Ravka’s salvation. Maybe I fell into that trap too. But it isn’t too late to get this right.”

She shook her head. “It can’t be done.”

“We’ll charm them one by one if we have to, and you will lead Ravka into an age of peace.”

“I’m not charming.”

“But I am. I have a stockpile of wiles to deploy on Ravka’s behalf.”

“Dinners and parades and small talk. That sounds like hell.”

“I’ll rub your feet every night.”

What was he offering her? He was smiling but she could sense the caution in him too, a wariness she recognized. She’d promised herself she would speak her heart when she had the chance, but now that she was here, in this quiet room, with Nikolai before her, she had never been so frightened in her life.

“There’s a mural in my room,” she said hesitantly, unsure of what she meant to say, afraid of the words that might come. “A stormy sea. A boat. A flag with two stars. Did you ever wonder—”

“What they mean? Only when I thought of your bedchamber. So, roughly every night.”

“Can you be serious for once?”

“Once and only once.”

“Those stars are me and my aunt. Liliyana. She was the bravest woman I ever knew and she … she fought for me, when no one else would, without any weapon. She was a woman with no status or wealth, but she risked her own life to protect me. She thought I was worth saving. She thought … She thought I was worth loving.” When Liliyana’s star was gone, Zoya had believed she would reckon with that stormy sea on her own, forever. That if she was lucky enough to be loved by one person in this life, that should be enough. Or that was what she’d told herself. “I can’t do this alone, Nikolai.”

“I will be by your side.”

“As my adviser?”

“If that’s what you wish.”

She didn’t want to ask. Her pride forbade it. But her damn pride had cost her enough. She looked away. “And if … if I wished for more?”

She felt his fingers on her chin, turning her head. There was an unwanted ache in her throat. Zoya forced herself to meet his gaze. In this light, his hazel eyes looked almost golden.

“Then I would gladly be your prince, your consort, your demon fool.”

“You will grow to hate me. I’m too sharp. Too angry. Too spiteful.”

“You are all of those things, but you are so much more, Zoya. Our people will come to love you not despite your ferocity, but because of it. Because you showed mercy in our darkest hour. Because we know that if danger comes again, you will never falter. Give us that chance.”

Love. The word was not made for people like her. “I don’t know how to believe you,” she said helplessly.

“What if I say I can’t bear to lose you?”

A smile tugged at her lips. “I’d say you’re a liar. That claims like that belong to romantic ninnies.” She raised her hand and let her fingertips trace the line of his beautiful jaw. He closed his eyes. “We would go on, you and I. If I couldn’t be queen, you would find a way to win this battle and save this country. You would make a sheltering place for my people. You would march and bleed and crack terrible jokes until you had done all you said you would do. I suppose that’s why I love you.”

His eyes flew open and his face lit in an extraordinary grin. “All Saints, say it again.”

“I will not.”

“You must.”

“I’m the queen. I must do nothing but please myself.”

“Would it please you to kiss me?”

It would. And she did, drawing him up to her, feeling the stubble at his jaw, the soft curl of his hair behind his ear, and at last, after all these long days of wanting, his witty, brilliant, perfect mouth. Silence fell around them and Zoya’s head emptied of fear and worry and anything but the warm press of his lips.

When the kiss broke, he rested his forehead against hers.

“You do realize you just referred to yourself as the queen. That means you agreed.”

“I am going to kill you.”

“So long as you kiss me again before you do.”

She obliged him.

47

NINA

NINA COULDN’T THINK STRAIGHT. Is this a game? Is he toying with me?

She was a tangle of anger and hope and confusion. Get your head together, Zenik, she chastised herself. If you ever needed to keep your wits about you, this is the time.

Easier said than done. She was fairly sure she’d just seen Nikolai Lantsov—or maybe not Lantsov, since he’d admitted to being a bastard—give up his crown to Zoya Nazyalensky. Who was also a dragon. And possibly a Saint. And Rasmus had called for a lasting truce and a treaty with Ravka. But why? Did he truly believe in peace? Was this all some elaborate ruse, some part of his feud with Jarl Brum?

Or was something else at play here altogether? Nina had seen Hanne’s body crumpled on the ground. But what had she really seen? She remembered Hanne’s hands moving swiftly over her face, drawing hair from her own head. I’ve been practicing, she’d said.

Do not hope, Nina. Do not dare to hope for this.

All was silence on the boat ride back to Leviathan’s Mouth, the unease of the Fjerdan soldiers and officers palpable. She could feel Brum’s anger radiating from him, the fear of the drüskelle who had failed him in the audience chamber.

Joran looked nearly happy, his face serene, as if he’d finally found some kind of peace for the first time. He had been the first to speak, to declare for Zoya and for an end to war. Would any of the others have dared to be first? Or only the boy full of regret, desperate to do right, to sacrifice everything as penance to the Saints? If Nina had sought her vengeance and taken Joran’s life, if Hanne hadn’t stopped her, what might have happened in Os Kervo?