❈ invisible string ― nikolai lantsov ❈

Yizhi

"You had a thing for Alina's white hair, didn't you?" Yi pointed out matter-of-factly. "I think you'll find the baroness rather lovely in time."

"No."

Yi shrugged, lips twitching. "Your loss." She flipped through her pages. "Linnea Opjer?"

"No."

"She's beautiful―"

"Not compared to you."

She ignored his words. "Twenty-three, even-tempered, talented at mathematics―"

"I'd expect nothing less of my half sister," Nikolai said smoothly, taking a sip of his brandy. Yi took note that he'd hardly touched the drink at all, which was irregular for him, considering that he'd once had the idea of bathing in a tub full of it.

She also knew he was a bastard.

He'd told her so long ago, and she'd remembered it like she remembered everything else about him. But she knew nothing of the man who was truly his father, and she had little interest in knowing anything about him at all anymore.

Or so she told herself.

"Your father. . ." she asked quietly.

"Magnus Opjer," Nikolai said, brushing a piece of lint from his trousers. He sat up and walked over to his desk, movements languid and slightly lazy as he unlocked the top drawer. He pulled out a miniature painting and placed it in Yi's palm.

Yi's eyes widened.

Magnus Opjer looked so alike to Nikolai that for a moment she believed it was a portrait of him in her hands. But then she fully took in the beard and the blue eyes that were nothing like Nikolai's clear hazel ones. Yi had memorized his face by now, and immediately noticed how his father's nose was broader, the set of his brow lower. She knew that even if his father bore the same eyes, she would have known the difference between the two from a mile away, if not five.

Because one of them was the boy she'd fallen in love with, and the other was a random man with an unfortunate beard.

"You look. . ."

"Just like him?" Nikolai finished. Yi looked up, regretting the decision when she saw how intensely he was staring at her. He seemed to catch himself and looked away.

Yi didn't know how to react to the information.

So she did the one logical thing, the one thing Zoya would have done. She got up and chucked the miniature into the hearth.

"Yi!" Nikolai shouted, jumping from his seat and lunging towards the flames. He reached for the canvas but the fire grew with the newfound fuel, snapping towards him menacingly. The fury in his hazel eyes was evident, but Yi knew that had one servant in the palace seen that portrait, he would have been outed within the span of five minutes.

"You had no right," he snapped at her, and she suddenly realized she'd never seen him so angry before, and especially not at her.

There's a first for everything, Yi reminded herself as he strode towards her.

"Seethe if you must," she said once he was right before her. "But if that portrait was found, you would have lost a lot more than just a picture of your father. The crown would be lost to you, Nikolai. Do you realize how stupid it was to keep that photo?"

Nikolai's hazel eyes were alight with the golden flames of the hearth, a burning ember of rage in his irises. "I am not someone who needs to be lectured by you, Yizhi. I am the King of Ravka."

Yi drew back at the use of her full name. "You are the king, Nikolai. And I think we'd all like to keep it that way. I don't care if you despise me for it, but what I did was the right decision." She felt her eyes soften. "I understand the need for sentiment, believe me. But the rumors are bad enough―"

"I'm sure they already know," Nikolai sighed, shoulders slumping as he turned away from her. "Or they've guessed."

She felt a pang of sympathy. She still wasn't sure what had driven her to throw the canvas into the flames, but she hadn't regretted it. Even so, she knew how insecure Nikolai truly was beneath the guise of the perfect prince, or king, she supposed, about his parentage. All Ravka seemed to care about was Lantsov blood.

Yi took a tentative step forward. "For what it's worth, it doesn't matter to me."

"No, but it matters to them."

"Well, that doesn't matter to me either," she stated flatly. "And it won't if you become the king your country needs. You can't do that if you have no crown."

She took his hand and turned him around to face her. Nikolai had a strand of blond hair that had fallen into his eyes, and Yi's fingers twitched with the urge to brush it back into place.

"How long are you going to pretend?" he asked quietly.

She went still, dropping his hand. "What?"

Nikolai shook his head. "How long are you going to act as though we don't know each other?"

"We don't know each other, Nikolai," Yi said softly, looking into his eyes. "Not anymore."

"Don't we?" He looked deep into her gaze, as though he could see her bare soul with ease. His hazel eyes glowed as the firelight pierced through his irises. "I don't know where your heart lies, Yi. I don't know whether you still enjoy my presence or not. I don't know if you're willing to risk anything for this saintsforsaken country."

Yi opened her mouth, a reply forming on her tongue, but she stalled, sealing her lips closed.

Nikolai's gaze flickered downwards for a moment, but he stayed still. 

"But I know you, Yi."