The Tsar, The Princess And The Tailor

To Kiss Or Not To Kiss

The king was busy preparing for the arrival of the Fjerdans. Zoya and Alina as well, training the united army side-by-side. Genya was keeping to herself, perhaps avoiding her, the Zemeni couldn't quite tell so Ixora was mostly left to herself.

She was used to being alone. Unlike most people, it didn't feel like a burden to her. She had made peace with the demons in her mind. Still, they lingered, but gentleness had turned them into harsher friends. It was long ago that she realised the fight with herself was pointless. Nobody cared about the thoughts in her head. Nobody cared about how her rage would sometimes consume her life. Nobody cared because nobody knew.

And she had felt weak since she was a child. Incapable of protecting anyone, whether it was her mama or her people the way Saint Koko had. People often said she was his reincarnation, gazing at her with too much adoration. It took some time for her to understand that self-loathing was pointless but the desires she had could be accomplished regardless and so, she trained.

Her mother showed her the power of meditation. Of leaving the world and all its problems behind; linking ever-so-carefully with the flow of the universe itself. It brought her peace and taught her much. While her gift and mental tranquility were honed in that way, she practised the physical aspect much more sparingly as it reminded her of Nikky.

She would have done anything for him, back then, even when she understood so little of the feeling in her chest when she made him smile. It was similar to fondness but so different from the one she felt for her mother or people -  and it had only grown. How could she ever have known it was going to root so deep within her that it never quite faded away?

It made it difficult to see him every night at the end of what must have been a busy day indeed, exhausted almost beyond relief. She knew he experienced night terrors but nothing of what they were. She saw the fear in his eyes when she'd move even slightly away from his side. There was a boy beneath man, soldier and king and he was terrified of all of this. Of things behind his eyes that she couldn't begin to imagine. Having never experienced the harrowing effects of war, all she had was compassion for the Ravkans and all that they had lost.

Of all of them, Nikky was her first and foremost priority. His pain was a weight on her shoulders, too. And he'd barely passed a smile since the Fjerdan letter was brought to his attention, according to Alina. He trained with the army all day, strategising with his top officials and returned to her, aching and drained, by night. His nightmares were so bad now that he begged her not to make him sleep, to stick with him till morning, telling him stories.

The night she caught him scratching at himself to keep awake, Ixora had resorted to using her powers to force his unconsciousness. Whatever he saw as he dreamt was driving him mad but a lack of sleep would only worsen the insanity.

No one saw that side of him but her. And every single night, she would go and she would put him to sleep, no matter how desperately he begged her to let him stay up, far away from his cruel subconscious. She could remember when she'd finally decided to do something about it, still unsure of which caused it; his outburst or the unexpected intimacy.

Nikolai murmured tiredly to himself, stilling when she shut the door behind her. He blinked twice, his eyes in a haze and then put on the weakest excuse for a smile she had seen in a while, running a hand through his hair.

"Tell me, Zora... I must look so good right now, don't I?"

"You're always handsome, your highness. Always, sir."

"Sir? Formalities, princess? What have I done to deserve that?" She inched away from him, hating that the feeling of his hand cupping her jaw brought her anxiety instead of warmth or pleasure. Perhaps she wouldn't have minded if he wasn't heavily intoxicated. He'd snuck some wine into the room, trying to drink his pain away and she'd come in and taken it from him much too late to stop the grape from taking effect. "Are you... Mad at me...?"