𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗦𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦 || 𝖭𝗂𝗄𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗂 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌𝗈𝗏

𝘹𝘷 - 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘴

The music and conversation picked up once the King and Queen were seated on the throne. King Pyotr had somehow gotten even fatter than he had been two years prior, and the Queen stood out beside him with her beauty. Fake beauty, Freya knew. She wondered how long Genya had to spend on that.

Freya paid them no mind. The only royal she truly cared about was Nikolai, anyway. Unfortunately, she couldn't speak to him yet. She wanted nothing more than to stride up to him and pull him onto the dance floor. But that would be unseemly in the eyes of most, treasonous of others. Instead, she subjugated herself to a dull lousy conversation with noblemen who only wanted to flaunt their wealth in her face.

Never mind that she was a soldier with little taste for their unauspicious spending. She felt herself inwardly cringe whenever one of them tossed out a number. How many villages could be fed with that amount of money? How many soldiers could have warmer clothes and better weapons? She chose not to think on it lest she rile herself up even more.

Luckily for her, Zoya soon found her again and dragged her away.

"You should've seen how he was looking at me," Zoya bragged as the two stood by the far wall, watching everyone else as they mingled and danced. Freya had long forgotten which nobleman she spoke of and decided she was better for it. Zoya revelled in the attention she got from men. She enjoyed rejecting them and sauntering away even more. While Freya could barely force herself to flirt with men, Zoya did it daily. And for her entertainment at that.

"With the utmost love and devotion?" Freya joked, taking a long sip of her wine. It was a bit too sweet, but it was better than nothing. "Or perhaps with a burning desire to get you into bed?" Zoya laughed, tossing her head back. Freya didn't doubt she'd choose one of the men here to take to her bed that night. Zoya's freedom in such things had always fascinated her, for Freya could never do something like that. She lacked the courage and the confidence.

Or perhaps not, she thought as she looked back into the room and caught Nikolai staring directly at her. Noticing her eyes on him, he grinned and jerked his head subtly towards the large glass door on the other side of the ballroom. Freya's breath hitched, and she answered with a barely noticeable nod. His response to that was an even wider grin, and then he turned away from his family and disappeared into the crowd.

"Excuse me," Freya breathed, shoving her glass of wine into Zoya's hand. As she walked away from her, she heard Zoya laugh to herself. She must've seen the exchange because Freya swore she heard her whisper good luck.

The crowd pushed her in various directions, but Freya tried to avoid the drunkards and the clumsy people. She walked around the side of the ballroom, careful not to get pulled into another conversation. When she reached the door leading out to the garden, she sighed her relief.

She stepped out onto the terrace. It was the same raised terrace she had met Nikolai on two years prior, and the memory left her a little giddy. Had anyone told her back then that she'd be stealing away from the fete with the Prince of Ravka, that she would kiss and comfort him and desire him, she would've laughed in their face.

The terrace was empty, and Freya's brows furrowed in confusion. She was sure that Nikolai had wanted to meet her here. She looked around, approaching the balustrade and looking down into the dark garden. The moon was almost at its fullest, providing enough light to illuminate most pathways and bushes. Everything glistened with a fresh layer of snow. She was glad for the fur that lined her kefta. The air was chilly, but it only nipped at her ears and cheeks.

Nikolai wasn't anywhere in the garden. Not that she could see anyway. Most of the bushes were tall and obstructed her view. She looked around again. Finally, she saw something. A familiar pair of gloves rested on the balustrade by the stairs leading down into the garden. Nikolai had worn those earlier that evening. Did he put them there as a sign of where to go? It was the most likely, she thought.