Nikolai heard the door open, scented wildflowers somewhere in the cargo hold.
“Are you hiding?” Zoya asked as she shut the door behind her.
“I’m skulking. It’s much more purposeful.” He patted the floor next to him. “Join me?”
He expected her to roll her eyes and tell him to get off his ass. Instead she lay down beside him, her shoulder almost touching his own. All Saints, Nikolai thought. I’m lying next to Zoya Nazyalensky. Somewhere Count Kirigin was crying into his soup. They stared up at the shadowy roof of the hold, at nothing at all.
“Did you sleep?” she asked.
“Of course not. Someday we’ll see an end to war, and then you and I will take a nap together.”
“Is that your idea of seduction?”
“These days? Yes.”
“I’ll be honest—it’s incredibly compelling.”
“I heard our messenger arrive,” he said. “War?”
“War. Our scouts have reported Fjerdan troops mobilizing again.”
“Do we know where they’re headed?”
“We’re waiting on intelligence.” She inhaled deeply. “I like the way it smells down here. Sawdust. Oil.”
“I never knew you had a fondness for shipyards.”
“Maybe anything smells good after Ketterdam.” He could see her profile in the dim light. “There isn’t enough titanium, is there?”
“No,” he admitted. “Maybe David could have found a way to make it work, but … Nadia and Leoni and the others should be able to get some use out of these materials. Wylan offered up some new sketches on the diagnostics that will help. He has a way with destruction.”
“Perhaps if the Fjerdans see the smaller missiles, the threat of something larger will be enough.”
“Not if Jarl Brum is left unchecked.” Nikolai and his engineers had tried to piece together the details on the weapons and plans Nina had sent to them through the Hringsa, along with the intel from Tamar’s spies, but he still couldn’t be sure what they were up against.
“Nina thinks Prince Rasmus may be a counter to his warmongering,” Zoya said. “I wanted to bring her home, but … maybe she’s safer among the Fjerdans.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I know, I know. I can’t believe I’m saying it either.”
“The whim of a prince isn’t much for insurance.”
“You were a prince once.”
“Yes, but I’m me. Tell me something, Nazyalensky. When Fjerda gets their puppet king, assuming the Fjerdans let either of us live, do you think you can control Vadik Demidov?”
“We do have to lose first, Nikolai.”
He peered at her. “That sounds suspiciously hopeful. What have you done with my doomsaying general?”
“We’re not helpless. Novels are full of ragtag bands facing impossible odds.”
“Do you read novels?”
“When I have the time.”
“So, no.”
“I read when I can’t sleep.”
“So, regularly then. If the Fjerdans have testimony from my mother, that will be the end of it all.”
Zoya hesitated, and he knew she was weighing her words. “Would she betray you that way?”
He didn’t want to think so, but he couldn’t afford to pretend. “I sent her from her country and stripped her of a crown. The argument might be made that I betrayed her first.”
“I haven’t spoken to my mother since I was nine.”
When she’d tried to marry Zoya off to some rotten old noble with bags full of money. “Always wise to get a head start on estrangement.”
“The terrible thing is … I didn’t miss her. I still don’t. Maybe I miss something I never had.”
Nikolai knew that feeling, the longing for a father he could trust, an older brother who might have been his companion instead of his rival. A real family. “I wish my parents had been different people, but they owe me nothing. If my mother chooses to speak against my parentage, I can’t blame her.” But it would still hurt like hell.
Zoya pushed herself up on her elbows. “None of it will matter if we win, truly win. Ravka loves victory more than it loves royal blood.”
And it had been a very long time since Ravka had been given much cause to celebrate.
“That’s why the Darkling expanded the Fold, isn’t it?” Nikolai mused. “He was looking for a weapon that would leave no one in doubt of Ravka’s power. He knew if he gave the people victory, they would finally love him. What did your Grisha say about what happened at the base?”
“About your demon?” She sighed and lay back down. “They’re shaken. Adrik lost his arm to one of the Darkling’s nichevo’ya. It’s hard for him to see that creature and not go back to those terrible days. I remember Tolya trying to heal him, the blood … He left a lake of it on the deck of the ship we escaped on.”
“Will Adrik leave?”
“I don’t think he’ll desert. But I can’t vouch for the others. Some secrets need to be kept.”
“Do they?” He turned his head, trying to decipher the dark slash of her brows, the black of her hair. She looked just as she always had—beautiful, impossible Zoya. “Why didn’t you tell me you were Suli?”
“I think you know, Nikolai.”
“You really believe it would have changed the way I see you?”
“No. Not you. But ask yourself, would your First Army generals treat me so respectfully if they knew I was Suli?”
“If they didn’t, they would stop being my generals.”
“Do you really think it’s as simple as that? That they would make it that easy?” She shook her head. “They never come at you with hatred. They come at you with pity. Did you learn to read in the Suli caravans? Was it hard growing up in such squalor? They giggle about the dark hair on your arms or say that you look Ravkan like it’s some kind of compliment. They don’t make it easy to fight them.” Zoya closed her eyes. “I passed because it was safer to be Zoya Nazyalensky than Zoya Nabri. I guess I thought it would keep me safe. Now I’m not so sure. The woman on the cliffs called me daughter. That word … I didn’t know I needed that word. I don’t regret turning my back on my parents. But it’s hard not to wonder what might have happened if my father had stood up for me. If we’d gone to live with his people. If I’d had someplace other than the Little Palace to run to, someone other than the Darkling to make me feel capable and strong.”
“It isn’t too late, Zoya. They chose to help you on the cliffs, not me, not Kaz Brekker.”
Now Zoya’s laugh was harsh. “But they don’t really know me, do they?”
“I would choose you.” The words were out before he thought better of them, and then there was no way to pull them back.
Silence stretched between them. Perhaps the floor will open and I’ll plummet to my death, he thought hopefully.
“As your general?” Her voice careful. She was offering him a chance to right the ship, to take them back to familiar waters.
And a fine general you are.