❈ invisible string ― nikolai lantsov ❈

Yizhi

Yuri narrowed his bright green eyes.

Yi held his gaze. "Well?"

The monk reluctantly nodded. Nikolai turned to face the crowd. "We will meet," he declared, raising his voice so all could hear. "We will talk. Perhaps we will argue. But Ravkans need agree on nothing more than the drinking of tea."

Laughter sounded from the clusters of people, and though they were still kneeling, the tension eased like a feather blown away. Tamar dismounted her steed so Yuri could take it as his own and they rode back into the safety of Os Alta's gates.

The Apparat immediately rejoined them with a swarm of Priestguards bracketing him. Together, they were a flurry of brown, musty cloaks as they approached, rustling like ducks. "We will take him into custody. I have many a question for this heretic―"

"Yuri Vedenen is my guest," Nikolai informed the priest.

"I insist that I be present at his interrogation."

"What a peculiar name for breakfast."

"You cannot possibly mean to―"

"Tamar," Nikolai ordered, "take our guest to the Iris Suite and make sure he is adequately fed and watered. I'll join you shortly." He locked eyes with Yi, and in the passing moment, conveyed a message that only she knew to find. It told her to go, because they both knew she was bound to snap at any given moment.

She was grateful for the excuse and followed Tamar and Yuri back towards the Grand Palace. Before they rounded the corner, she looked back one more time at Nikolai.

Today had shown them something.

Yi had grown and clearly become someone different.

And Nikolai?

Well, he had turned into a king.

---

YI SPENT THE REST OF THE DAY AIDING ZOYA WITH THE SECOND ARMY.

They hadn't had time to catch up, and so they used the training sessions with the newest squadron of Squallers to do so. Yi was thankful to see that they clearly had a certain extent of respect for her and understood her position as she ordered them, but she was even more so to have time to simply converse with her friend. Zoya had grown taller by a bit and was still just as strikingly gorgeous as usual, but Yi sensed a change in her. Since the Squaller had become part of the Grisha Triumvirate, she had clearly been significantly more busy and slightly stressed by the pressure of the other countries.

Even so, Zoya stayed poised and sharp as a dagger crafted perfectly. She told Yi about how she'd been trying to recruit more Grisha to rebuild the Second Army and how exasperating it was training the amateurs.

During dinner, they sat in the Hall of the Golden Dome with Genya and David, speaking of plans for the upcoming event in which Nikolai would find a bride, as well as updates in general. Genya asked about how it was in Ahmrat Jen, about the dresses and flowers and balls and events, accentuating how sorely missed Yi was.

Yi couldn't help but feel like she was still out of place.

She hadn't been here in three years.

She hadn't reached out.

She hadn't aided with anything, really. She wasn't truly a commander anymore, nor a soldier of the Second Army. All she felt like was an impostor, trying to fit back into her old skin that she'd shed long ago. 

At the end of the day, Yi let herself unwind in her chambers, combing through the tangles in her hair and rolling out the kinks in her shoulders. She felt exhausted and slightly overwhelmed as she changed into her nightgown, and who could blame her? She'd spent hundreds of days in the same, repetitive cycle, and now she was dealing with a pretentious monk with an obsession for black clothes.

She let out a sigh, peeling her pale green dress from her form. The black gashes ached worse tonight, and though she knew she should seek Genya or David for a better solution than the salve the wound had already grown accustomed to, she couldn't bear the thought of them seeing the gruesome sight. She wasn't that little girl anymore. She was strong enough to push through the pain, and she needed no one's help.

Yi began to unscrew the lid of the balm when a knock sounded at the door.

She went still. "Yes?"

"It's Zoya. Do you think you can deal with Nikolai tonight? I have business to attend to." Yi thought of the garden hidden behind twisting, ashen vines in the woods, the first time Zoya had ever shown those flowers to her. She hadn't had time to visit that sanctuary since she'd arrived and sorely regretted having not done it earlier.

"I'll do it," Yi reassured.

Zoya left. No thank you, you're wonderful, which wasn't much of a surprise. Yi left her chambers and walked through the halls of the Grand Palace. As her gaze scanned the gilded pillars, statues, and carvings of Saints, she couldn't help but think of her palace in Ahmrat Jen. Os Alta seemed like Keramzin compared to the jade vases and vibrant chrysanthemums she was accustomed to.

Yi reached Nikolai's door and gave a gentle knock. 

"Come in," he called out, voice slightly muffled from within his bedchambers.

Yi turned the smooth handle and the door creaked open. She entered, drinking in the familiar deep blue walls, darker now that all light had been extinguished, and the map pinned upon one. She couldn't help but recall the night she'd came to him, so long ago, when she'd been young and so incredibly in love it was almost absurd to think back upon. 

She walked past Nikolai's sitting room and found him already lying in his bed, completely at ease, left wrist and both ankles clicked into their assigned manacles. He regarded her, eyes drinking in her nightgown. Yi herself was quite fond of it. It was a forgiving grey-periwinkle hemmed in sage green that she just adored, and maybe she hoped that Nikolai did, too.

She walked forward and waved a lazy hand, calling to the chains and watching as they flew across Nikolai's body, effectively restraining him. He offered his right wrist up to her.

The black veins of his hands stood out against the dim lamplight and Yi knew her gaze lingered for a moment too long.

"It's horrible, isn't it?" Nikolai whispered, looking at the wall in front of him. "It clashes terribly against my wardrobe. Hence the usual gloves."

Yi swallowed and tentatively reached out, taking his hand and running her thumb over the dark skeins. She wondered if she imagined the way his shoulders loosened and how he tilted his head back ever so slightly, eyelashes fluttering.

"I hate them," she admitted.

"Why, that makes it worse."

She pressed her lips together. "It's a reminder that he's always there."

Nikolai went still and Yi let his hand fall. "I know."

"He took everything, Nikolai."

He turned his head just barely, hazel eyes meeting hers.

"I know."

Yi looked away, running yet again from the tenderness of vulnerability. For the hundredth time today, she reminded herself that she wasn't the little girl she used to be, that she wasn't helpless. She was independent. And if anything, she needed a saintsforsaken spa day, not a shoulder to lean on.

Her finger twitched and the last shackle levitated and clicked onto Nikolai's right wrist.

"Stay," he said.

Yi looked over at him, but his eyes were closed. She faltered for a few long moments before whispering, "There's no place for me to stay, Nikolai."

"Stay with me."

She pressed her lips together, pulling her gaze away from him. "Goodnight, my king."

She forced herself to leave, ignoring how badly something in her begged to stay.