❈ invisible string ― nikolai lantsov ❈

Yizhi

"And you can see why. You've heard this blasphemy? This vile heresy? They want the church to recognize the Darkling as a Saint!" The Apparat turned and stalled upon seeing Yi, as though she was a mere afterthought. "Yizhi Kir-Taban, Your Highness."

She resisted the urge to have her horse trot right over him, smiling pleasantly as she looked over at the young boy standing on a rock, waving the Darkling's banner in the air. "Who is he? Was he a member of the Priestguard?" He shared the same hair as them, but his robes were black.

"He is the lowest form of traitor," the Apparat said.

Helpful, Yi thought, barely containing the words.

"He's a monk," Tamar supplied. "Yuri Vedenen. He left the Priestguard a year ago. My sources don't know why."

"We can discuss the boy's provenance another time," Nikolai stated. "If you let the Priestguard loose, you risk causing a bloodbath and making a whole slew of new martyrs, which will only validate their cause."

"You cannot ask me to permit this heresy―"

Nikolai's voice was edged in steel. "I ask nothing."

The Apparat's face went pale and the Yi suddenly found it very easy to smile pleasantly now.

How does it feel to be afraid?

"Forgive me, Your Highness. But you must understand, this is not a matter for kings to decide. It is a battle for Ravka's very soul."

Yi felt the firebird in her chest stir. It was the symbol of Ravka, featured in countless tales and even said to have aided the first Lantsov kings in battle. It seemed it didn't enjoy the Apparat's presence any more than Yi did.

"Tell your men to stand down, priest. I will not have more blood shed in the capital." Nikolai regarded the battlements, golden eyelashes bright in the sun. "Open the gates. The king rides out."

"Are you sure this is wise?" Tamar murmured cautiously. "I've heard the talk in this camp. These pilgrims aren't fond of you."

"Shocker," Yi muttered dryly.

"Perhaps they just haven't gotten to know me," Nikolai quipped. "Stay close. Tolya, make sure those Priestguards don't get any ideas. Try to keep them separated from my soldiers. I don't need to cause a riot of my own."

"Let me come with you," Yi said.

Nikolai studied her for a moment. "Calm," he reminded her.

"I am perfectly calm," she spat.

He raised his eyebrows. "I can tell."

Still, he didn't object, so as he urged his horse forward, Yi followed suit. The gate slowly rose with a metallic creek and a hush blanketed the large crowd. Those who weren't among the pilgrims preaching their nonsense were Ravkans who worshipped their king, and Yi didn't miss the awe in their eyes. They fell to their knees.

Re'b Ravka. Korol Rezni.

Nikolai raised a hand in greeting, and for the first time, Yi's gaze stalled on his gloves. She still remembered the sight of the black veins marring his fingers and suddenly wondered if he felt insecure, if not ashamed about them.

She tore her eyes away as they drew closer to the pilgrims that still remained stubbornly standing. Yi had the distinct urge to send them toppling into kneeling with a wave of her hand but dispelled the petty, childish thought. It became harder to resist the idea as the black-clad boy standing upon the rock yelled, "Pretender! Thief! Murderer!"

Yi was unimpressed. He was pale with straw-like brown hair and vibrant green eyes filled with determination and fervor. He looked like the personification of a stale piece of cheese and appeared to be no older than twenty.