Forged and Forsaken [Nikolai Lantsov II]

~ before ~

We're starting off each chapter with art that represents it! First, we have little Nikolai and Korina. I would like to stress that this is all just art I found online that reminds me of the story and I own none of it! Original art by Carlotta Dicataldo (with minor photoshop edits by me).

warning: this chapter is gonna be angsty (but are you really surprised at this point?)

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[ Caryeva | two days before Prince Nikolais fourteenth birthday ]

A smile touches the corners of the girl's lips as she selects a color from the pile of paints arrayed on the vendor's table. She dips a finger into the purple ink, watching in elation as pigment stains the tip of her nail a deep violet.

When the Prince had insisted on taking a group of his so-called 'friends' to Caryeva for his fourteenth birthday, she hadn't wanted to come. She hated the thought of leaving her family, hated the idea of traveling with the rest of the gentry and being escorted everywhere by Royal guards. But he had convinced her otherwise. Not that she had much of a choice, when the royal family invites you to travel with them, you do.

Now the girl is more than glad she came.

Horse racing and Suli acrobats have entertained the rest of the groups for days, but the market is what truly captivated her attention. All manner of goods from around Ravka that she's never seen. Stalls selling perfectly preserved flowers that will stay forever in bloom. Dyes more vibrant than any Fabricator made at the little palace. Tiny wooden toys that work on some sort of mechanism far beyond her understanding, though the Prince had spent hours hunkered over one the night before. And the pastries.

Saints the pastries were to die for.

As she swirls the tip of her finger in the pigment, the girl savors the silence. She might like her Prince well enough, but she's less sure about these friends of his. In fact, the girl is convinced that most of them aren't really here for him, but for his brother. The older boys were all ecstatic for an excuse to get a weekend away and since they arrived they've been betting and drinking themselves beneath the bar tables.

No, decidedly not her favorite.

A familiar laugh is carried to her on the soft breeze, sweeping between the market stalls. Turns slightly, her eyes flit over the packed street.

She finds him in an instant. It's never hard. There's always a sense around him, like a physical force that pulls everyone in the vicinity toward him. Her heart barely stutters at the look on her Prince's face, a grin so pure that one not as immune to his charm might melt into a puddle right there on the cobbled street.

She's used to those looks by now and she tells herself they have no effect. Unlike so many of the girls at court, she does not have designs on him. Being a Princess sounds like quite a nightmare, especially in light of how little she's learned in the years he's tried to teach her about court. She's content just to be his friend, to have the help she needs to get through all the dull court proceedings without incident.

That's why she's here, after all. He needed a friend with him in Caryeva in case he had to escape the packs of ravenous nobles all vying to get into his and his brother's good graces.

The girl's gaze traces his small group through the market. The Prince gestures animatedly as he speaks to the boy beside him, blond hair glimmering in the late afternoon sun. Guards trail in two-step behind the pair, but their attention is locked on the older boy, his brother.

To anyone else, the sight of the brothers walking side by side wouldn't elicit as much as a second look. But she's been around the Royals long enough to know better, the boy never smiles at the Crown Prince. Not like that.