❈ invisible string ― nikolai lantsov ❈

Yizhi

Yi was dimly grateful that Nikolai wasn't here, but not only to save herself a bit of face. The mere thought of him sent a chill running down her spine and made her fingertips dig into the white sheets of her cot a little bit deeper.

"It never came up," Yi said numbly, taking a sip of her tea.

Zoya's eyes pierced hers, but she didn't push any further. "What happened on the bell tower? I find it hard to believe that you were disarmed by Nikolai in such a state."

Yi pressed her lips together.

It was him.

"I was tired," she lied evenly. "And I'd forgotten to treat my wounds. It disoriented me, and I lost focus." A half-truth, because that was easier.

She could tell Zoya knew there was more and was grateful when she dropped the topic. 

"We still need to discuss what we're going to do now that the monster is getting stronger," Tamar pointed out. "We should―"

"The last thing she needs is to see Nikolai," Zoya interrupted, tone edged in steel.

She was right. Yi didn't want to be anywhere near the king, not after tonight. Her bones felt frigid with the memory of how she'd stiffened, how she'd gone blank, how helpless she'd been again. The sound of that cool, cold voice saying her name rang in her head like a sick mantra, and she forced herself to dispel the thought with another swig of her tea.

"We'll attend the meeting without her," Genya offered hopefully. "If you're not up for it." She met Yi's gaze.

Yi shook her head. "I. . ."

She trailed off. She wasn't helpless, she reminded herself. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't weak, not anymore, not after everything. She wasn't Yi Liu Chen anymore. She wouldn't let herself be cowed.

"I'll be fine. I feel fine. We have pressing matters to attend to," she stated, even though her stomach was in knots. 

She pulled the blanket off of her body and threw her legs over the side of the bed, placing her tea on the drawer at its side. Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, and although her knees screamed in protest and her heels ached with exertion, she stood tall, reminding herself of the hours she'd spent sitting pin-straight in court.

If she could manage that, then she could suffer through this.

Yi blew out a slow breath, summoning every bit of charisma and charm and stupidly arrogant cheeriness she'd learned from Nikolai as she forced a smile upon her face. It felt all wrong, like shoving two puzzle pieces together blindly.

"I'm fine. I'm not―I'm not afraid." As the words left her mouth, tears stung at her eyes. Her throat constricted and she felt herself crumple, both emotionally and physically as she fell back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands.

Don't cry. She could almost hear her mother again.

She wasn't aware of anything as her vision blurred and her senses tingled as tears fell onto her palms. Dimly, she felt someone take a seat beside her and wrap their arms around her shoulders. She was a lifeless doll with cloth for limbs as she leaned into Genya's touch, and Yi suddenly realized she was crying, crying for herself because she had tried so, so hard to stay strong, to not be afraid, to be the warrior she and her mother had always wanted her to be, only on her own terms for herself. 

She cried because she had been brave and she had lost everything, a mother, her brothers, a functional family, an entire life, and now the one boy who had been her sun on those nights where she was afraid of the dark, and it was all for nothing.