“He wants a conversation, not a rematch.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“You’re wearing the watch I gave you.”
Zoya looked down at the little silver dragon. “You should have given me a raise instead.”
“We can’t afford it.”
“Then you should give me a shiny medal. Or a nice estate.”
“When the war is over, you shall have your pick of them.”
Zoya took another sip of her brandy. “I choose the dacha in Udova.”
“That’s my ancestral home!”
“Are you taking back your offer?”
“Absolutely not. It’s too hot in the summer and hell to heat in the winter. Why do you want it?”
“I like the view.”
“There’s nothing to see from that dacha except a broken-down mill and a muddy little town.”
“I know,” she said. She could have stopped at that. Maybe she should have. Instead, she continued, “I grew up there.”
Nikolai did his best to hide his surprise, but Zoya knew him too well. She never spoke of her childhood.
“Oh?” he said too casually. “Do you have family there?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I haven’t spoken to my parents since they tried to sell me off to a rich nobleman when I was nine years old.” She’d never told anyone about what had happened that day. She’d let her life, her family, and her losses stay in the past. But lately it felt hard not to be known, like keeping herself together was all the more difficult without someone to see who she truly was.
Nikolai set down his glass. “That isn’t—that’s not … The laws prohibit—”
“Who enforces the laws?” Zoya asked softly. “Rich men. Rich men who do what they wish. Power doesn’t make a man wise.”
“I’m proof enough of that.”
“You’re occasionally a useless podge. But you’re a good man, Nikolai. And a good king. I will not serve another.”
“I don’t like that word.”
“Serve? It’s an honest word. You are the king I’ve chosen.” She took another sip of her drink and turned to face the fire. It was easier to speak her worry to the flames. “The last time we attempted the obisbaya, you almost died. You can’t render yourself defenseless like that again. For Ravka’s sake.”
“The Darkling will be vulnerable too. And this is the time to attempt it. We don’t know when or if his powers may return, and I have no intention of letting him banish Yuri.”
“You mean to drive the Darkling out instead.”
“He’s the invader. The little monk is still in there. You saw that.”
Zoya watched the flames snap and spark. “You must not underestimate him.” The way so many had. The way she had.
“Zoya.”
“What?”
“Zoya, look at me.”
Zoya turned and gasped. She raised her hands to fight, her glass slipping from her fingers and shattering on the floor.
Nikolai stood beside the table.
And the demon stood beside him. It seemed to hover there, a blot of darkness in the shape of her king, its black wings curling at the edges like smoke.
“It’s … How?”
“The monster is me and I am the monster. If the Darkling is right and this isn’t all some ruse, the obisbaya may be the secret to unraveling the Fold once and for all. The demon may go out of me and into the darkness forever.”
The demon hissed and Zoya flinched back, her foot nearly landing in the fire.
“But he is my demon, not the Darkling’s,” Nikolai said. He held his hand out to her, scarred beneath the gloves he wore. “Don’t be afraid.”
She felt the need in him as palpably as if he’d spoken. Don’t turn away from me. Anyone but you. Was that the dragon’s eye opening inside her? Or did she just recognize her own want? There was no one else she would trust to see her at her weakest, her most fearful. Her most monstrous.
Zoya met Nikolai’s gaze. “You can control it?”
“I can.”
She took a step forward, then another, forcing herself to cross the room until she was standing before both of them. Her mind screamed at her to run from the wrongness of what she was seeing, this creature made of nothing beside her king.
“Maybe the obisbaya will work,” said Nikolai, his hazel eyes steady. “But what if it doesn’t? What if I told you the demon will always be with me? That there will always be a part of me tied to the Darkling, to this shadow power? Would I still be your king? Or would you fear me? Would you come to despise me as you despise him?”
She didn’t know how to answer that. She had always assumed that somehow, eventually, they would find a way to rid Nikolai of this creature. Maybe she wanted to attempt the obisbaya again, despite the terrible risk to his life. Not for the sake of destroying the Fold, but because she hated that any part of the Darkling resided within the king.
The shadow thing raised its hand and Zoya clenched her fists, determined to stand her ground. The edges of its form were blurred like thick fog. Its long fingers ended in claws.
It reached for her and Zoya willed herself not to recoil. It brushed its knuckles across the skin of her cheek, and she drew in a sharp breath. Its touch was cold. It was solid. It had form.
Power. The ancient thing inside her recognized this darkness, the very substance of the universe. It was Nikolai and it was not.
“You would still be my king,” she said, as the demon stroked its fingers down her cheek to her throat. “I know who you are.”
Was it the monster touching her or was it her king? Was there a difference anymore? The fire crackled in the stillness of the room, the silence of the palace surrounding them, the heavy blanket of night.
The demon closed its talons over the ribbon in her hair and tugged. It slid loose, fluttering to the floor. Slowly, it withdrew its hand. Did she imagine its regret?
The thing melted back into Nikolai’s body, as if his shadow had come to meet him.
Zoya released an unsteady breath. “I think I may need another drink.” Nikolai offered her his glass and she tossed back the remaining brandy. He was watching her closely. She saw him flex the fingers of his hand, as if it really had been him touching her. “How long have you been able to … do that?”
“Since the Fold.”
“Another,” Zoya said, holding out the glass. He poured. She downed it. “And you really think that it’s worth attempting to find these monks so we can raise the thorn wood?”
“I do.”
“I don’t know,” said Zoya. “This stunt to see Alina. It feels like he’s stalling. Or he has some other plan.”
“I’m sure he does. But we need to find a way to stop the spread of this blight. If the Fjerdans weren’t breathing down our necks, if the wedding weren’t right around the corner, we might try to master this phenomenon without him. We’d let loose David and every scholar we have on this problem. But David’s mind must remain on the work of winning the war. We need the Darkling now, just as I knew we would.”
“Alina gave up her power to defeat him. She’ll probably want to murder both of us for managing to bring him back.”