[indent] The more pompous the holiday is, the worse the state of affairs is in this country. The postulate is practically undeniable and always works absolutely right. So today Ravka, as if nothing had happened, as if nothing was happening, is celebrating another incredibly important date - the day of Saint Nikolai, the churchly patron saint of the ruling Lantsov. Evil tongues will say that the young king is behaving stupidly and recklessly, wasting very limited treasury funds on the celebration for no particular reason. Nikolai prefers to ignore such injections from those who are not so encumbered by the burden of the mind as the crowned Lantsov himself. After the resurrection of the Darkling, after Alina's return from oblivion in the distant Keramzin, the king simply needs to convey to the whole world and to the wearisome Fjorda, in the first place, that no matter how many drüskelle they sent across the border, no matter how many shells they cast in their secret workshops, no matter how many surprises they prepared, it is Ravka for which the Starless Saint and the Sun Summoner are fighting, and therefore the very God is with them, with the suffering people of the unfortunate country. Thus, any reason, even a previously forgotten holiday in the name of another saint will serve as an excellent opportunity to put grit in the machine of the dream - that has become worldwide as it seems - to destroy Ravka to hell.
[indent] The celebration followed the usual routine: first, an endless gathering of guests, accompanied by the first round of gossip, then a whole series of high-profile speeches, ending with the actual address of Nikolai, which habitually evoked tears of compassionate people, then dances in their endless multitude. Nikolai did not particularly like social events, but after spending a fair amount of time in the sandy wasteland of the saints, he learned to appreciate everything that had to do at least anything with real life. Moreover, the current celebration was largely dedicated to him - first, of course, to the saint, and only then to Nikolai, but still today, as never before, he once again wanted to prove to everyone that Nikolai Lantsov was the only hope of the dying Ravka, and if it was not for him, there would be nothing left of either the country or its people.
[indent] Recently, Princess Ehri was his main concern - this was what the court thought, of course; in fact, she was both a hostage and those fetters from which he desperately wanted to get rid of. The bride demanded attention - not so much the Shu Han girl herself, obviously, as the very need to maintain her status - and Nikolai readily put on a familiar smile, and then danced with the future mistress of the palace all waltz tours and half of the mazurkas. Both of them had already almost learned to suppress this feeling of irritation from the prevailing hopelessness, which eternally crawled outward, and therefore they looked together tolerably enough in love so that everyone around, except, of course, those dedicated to recent events, believed in the spectacle they carefully tried to play out. Moreover, now Nikolai could not entrust the task of maintaining two illusions to the Triumvirate at once, because for the time being they had to depict light representations of the Alina Starkov's authorship, who, alas, had lost her powers, but had not yet managed to return them.
[indent] He kept glancing at her throughout the evening. The acting game was not given to Starkov as well as to Lantsov, a mixture of horror, discontent and a desire to get out of the stage as soon as possible was clearly read on Alina's face. When Nikolai invited her to dance, the conversation did not fit, although there was an almost vital need to talk, finally, heart to heart. After all, they haven't done it since she returned. Starkov never said a word, and then left the festive hall altogether, hoping, apparently, to remain unnoticed (Nikolai caught the sight of the her kefta's black silks when she disappeared behind the door). Unrealized desire burned from within, there was no strength or reason to fight it; apologizing to the duke, with whom he was talking at that time, Nikolai followed Alina.
[indent] He found her in one of the many rooms that surround the ceremonial half of the palace. This was the living room of the previous queen, his mother, the room in which she usually had her guests. Alina was standing at the window, the wind fluttering her black hair with silvery tints, the moon shining like gold on the clothes embroidered with jewels. He was not used to seeing her like that, in his memory Alina was preserved as a fighter in a field camp, and not a princess in a fairytale castle. That probably made it that difficult to find the words for such a coveted conversation.
[indent] “I didn't mean to interfere with you”.
[indent] The voice treacherously refused to sound habitually careless.
[indent] “If you want, I'll leave. But it seems like it's high time for us to talk, doesn't it?”

Отредактировано Nikolai Lantsov (2021-05-06 22:03:26)

[indent] Such an obvious question at first even seems like a mockery to Nikolai. What should they talk about? About everything, probably, dear? Previously he would have drowned in his own eloquence, strangled her with an endless stream of words, because he really had so much to say: about his own loneliness, about dreams and aspirations, about unjustified hopes. After all, they were so similar: both were crushed to dust by destiny, thrown by it first to the sidelines, and then elevated to the status of legends. Not everyone can cope with such differences, but having such a fate it is more valuable to have a friend who understands.
[indent] But that was before. Before her refusal. Before her self-willed imprisonment far from the capital and all that didn't manage to become her home (“but it would have become”, Nikolai thinks, “if she had chosen to become my queen”). Now between them there is endless understatement and foreign awkwardness. Nikolai dreams that the years that now separate them will disappear as soon as possible. So that they can, as before, speak heart to heart.
[indent] “She hasn't changed at all”, Nikolai thinks. It's easy to read in her movements. How she still isn't able to find a place for herself here. How clumsy she is trying to hide anxiety from those who would help to cope with it. Nikolai would be glad to take on this burden of hers, if she would allow it. But the answer was clearly no. As then, at the Spinning Wheel.
[indent] She recalls the Darkling so inappropriately - Nikolai is fuming at the sound of his name. Even if he is not here, even mentioning him is enough for his invisible shadow to stand between them. As before, when the need to fight universal evil did not allow them to do what they wanted. And now everything is utterly ironic: Nikolai himself brought Morozova back to the palace, dressed him again in black and gave him the opportunity to gain strength, grow stronger and accumulate his hatred. Nikolai hopes that it will not be turned against his own people, only against his enemies.
[indent] “I would not delude myself with his words”, as always, a smile plays on Nikolai's face, “but you want it, right? I would try, even if this bastard is among the advisors.”
[indent] An inappropriate joke gives way to silence. This quiet is cold as ice, dense and impenetrable.
[indent] “But that's not what I really wanted to talk about. We will discuss this at a general meeting. I wanted to talk about us. About you and me. As before.”
[indent] In his voice now there is no trace of merriment, he sounds even and soulful, as if Nikolai is trying to get to Alina's very heart, “How are you, Alina?”
[indent] The moon illuminates the room with silver, refracted by rays on the varnished parquet. An entourage befitting a love confession. But Nikolai knows that this will never happen again.
[indent] “I am glad to see you. I really missed you.”

Отредактировано Nikolai Lantsov (2021-05-03 14:52:46)

[indent] Nikolai had been waiting for this conversation for a long time, he had already managed to play dozens of options in his head, however, in none of the alleged scenarios did he predict what actually happened, namely her displeasure. Alina was needling, almost got angry, even accused her tsar of something that was in her opinion dreadfully shameful. Nikolai could only listen, dumbfounded, until she finished. Apparently, she was trying to find the words while speaking. Nikolai was afraid to think about what in this case came to her mind in the first place. Saints, was he really to blame?
[indent] “It's a pity that my broad gesture is now serving you as a subject for jokes”.
[indent] The smile on Nikolai's face fades, leaving only a dim copy in its place.
[indent] “You know perfectly well that I would give you at least a hundred rings if I was sure that you would say yes”.
[indent] He speaks from the bottom of his heart: in the depths of his soul, he still wanted Alina to become his wife. Ravka needed such a queen: not a foreigner who would adapt to life here, to the local customs, but a queen of the people, beloved by these people. Alina was not just a saint, she was the queen of human hearts - this is much more than anyone could achieve by taking the throne as Nikolai's spouse.
[indent] But Alina did not want to be neither a queen, nor a saint, nor a heroine. She wanted to hide in Keramzin from prying eyes, living a calm life, which she deserved by her own sacrifice.
[indent] “Why didn't I come?” Nikolai checks back, there is excessive irony in his voice, because Starkov touched a nerve, “What would you have done, Alina? Would you have helped me? How then? Isn't it you who chose life in solitude, away from problems, so why on earth should I have brought down another one on you, and of such big scale? It was you who left, not me who didn’t come. And in general, you know—”
[indent] He wants to say something else, but stops himself in time. The words about Mal remain unsaid. “You chose the tracker, not me. And I hate to intrude”.
[indent] “If Genya and Zoya had not brought you to the palace, you would still be in your beloved orphanage. It was their desire, their decision to bring you here. But that doesn't mean I'm not happy to see you”.
[indent] Alina is shivering in the winter night wind: a grisha's kefta protects from bullets, but not cold. Nikolai takes off his ceremonial coat and hands it to Starkov, ”Put it on, or you'll freeze”.
[indent] When Alina refers to the Darkling once again, Nikolai wants to howl with indignation. Morozova was again to blame for everything, as before. He sowed discord, even without making any special attempts for that, the mere fact of his existence was enough. However, this was a necessary sacrifice.
[indent] “Alina, I beg you, don't you consider me a short-sighted idiot. Tell me, do you remember that I was ever wrong? Do you remember anyone tricking me? Such cases can be counted by one hand, and all of them were not my fault”.
[indent] The joke sounds fake, like Nikolai's assurances of his own genius.
[indent] “It's very easy to think from your perspective, you know. While you were peacefully raising children in Keramzin, I tried to restore what was destroyed, watching our enemies only build up their power without losing anything. We do not have enough men in both armies, and it is much more difficult to replenish personnel than to lose them in one unsuccessful battle”.
[indent] He could have speculated for a long time about the problems that tied his unfortunate country hand and foot, but decides to end the monologue with other words, no less truthful, but much more dramatic.
[indent] “Alina, he's my only chance. I'm dying from this thing inside”.

Отредактировано Nikolai Lantsov (2021-05-06 22:04:29)

[indent] He lets her talk as much as she did to him. Even though Nikolai does not like most of what she says, he does not interrupt her, allowing her to complete her thoughts and open up completely. After all, he remembers how before everything was easy between them: the words flew from his lips by themselves, absolutely sincere. He would very much like now that even despite the long years of separation, omissions and difficulties, this sincerity returned to their hearts. It had already returned to Nikolai, it was Alina's turn.
[indent] Starkov does not take his coat, to which Nikolai grins. She always refuses his offers. She would probably have refused the help with Keramzin, if she could come to the capital and return all the money sent to her - all solely out of pride. He especially liked that trait of hers. Since childhood Nikolai was used to getting everything he wanted: something got to him by itself, something he had to take by force. Alina, on the other hand, headed the list of what Nikolai could not achieve. And he probably won't be able to ever.
[indent] When she takes his hands, memories of their evenings at the Spinning Wheel, the most wonderful time in their lives, involuntarily pop up in his head. Despite the war raging around, life there flowed almost peacefully, and therefore everyone indulged in dreams without a twinge of conscience. He also dreamed then. About a queen who he was not worthy of.
[indent] “Don't you dare tell me about death, do you hear? No matter how hard it is, no matter how hopeless the situation seemes to be, we have to fight. Look at me, I'm fighting”, Nikolai smiles broadly, but the smile soon fades, and the tone becomes a little more serious.
[indent] “I understand that I am not a grisha, and therefore, I will probably never understand the feelings that you experience because of the lack of your power. But trust me, I know what it means not to be yourself. Feeling like you're missing something. Hands or feet. No, it would be more correct to say: not to feel your own soul inside. I can feel this absence, too. That's why I want to get rid of it. We will save you from this emptiness inside, too”.
[indent] His words should sound convincing, but Alina still stands her ground. Nikolai thinks this is predictable. After all, he makes her work directly with the person who so many times threatened her, her friends, her loved ones, in the end, her very life. Such a freak is really hard to believe.
[indent] Suddenly Alina hugs him: she clings to his chest and squeezes his shoulders tightly. The coat, which she did not wear, now lies on the nearest chair. They are separated only by the thin fabric of his shirt. The warmth of her cheek heats his chest. At this moment he doesn’t want to think,he wants to stand like that forever, pretending that there is no war, no difficulties, and circumstances. Only two of them. Not a saint and not a king, but just a boy and a girl who also have the right to be happy.
[indent] The cold wind outside the window is gaining strength; when Alina moves away (which, of course, make Nikolai regret, he closes the shutters, takes her hand and sits down with her on the nearest sofa.
[indent] “I am the king, Alina, do not forget. In this country, I can do whatever I want”, Nikolai grins as he speaks these words. He, of course, is cunning: not a single official celebration can do without a monarch, but he can afford an extra ten to fifteen minutes of freedom.
[indent] “You know, the last thing I want is you being afraid. Please, stop taking on more responsibilities than you have to. This is no longer needed. We ... I won't let you suffer anymore. I won't let him torture anyone anymore. I am not asking you to trust him, I am asking you to trust me. Please. With your faith in me, we can move mountains”.
[indent] Lights play in his eyes, a smile shines on his face. How he would like these words to really reach the addressee.