With a sweep of her hand, Zoya sent a gust to slam the shutters closed, blocking out the sound of that infernal chanting.
She turned to Nikolai. “Are you quite out of your mind?”
“On occasion. I find it bracing. But I have never been more sane or sober, Zoya.”
“I can’t do this, Nikolai. You’re the diplomat, the charmer. I’m the…”
“Yes?”
She threw her hands up in exasperation. “I’m the muscle.”
“The crown was never meant for me. You’re a military commander, you’re Grisha, and thanks to Nina’s work and Juris’ gift, you are a living Saint.”
Zoya slumped down on one of the benches. “No matter what they said in this chamber, you know they’ll never accept me. All those vows and cheers will mean nothing when they don’t get what they want.”
Nikolai knelt before her and reached for her hand.
“Stop doing that,” she snapped. “Stop kneeling.” But she didn’t keep him from taking her hand. His touch was comforting, familiar, something to hold on to.
“I can’t. It’s just what my knees do now. I noticed your tricky little turn of phrase back there. You said that you would serve Ravka, but you didn’t actually say you would accept the crown.”
“Because I’m hoping you’ll come to your senses and see this is impossible.”
Nikolai grinned. “You know how I feel about that word.”
He looked positively giddy.
“How can you do it?” she asked. “How can you just give up the throne you’ve fought so hard for?”
“Because I was never fighting for the throne. Not really. The battle was always for this disaster of a country. The Darkling believed that he was the key to Ravka’s salvation. Maybe I fell into that trap too. But it isn’t too late to get this right.”
She shook her head. “It can’t be done.”
“We’ll charm them one by one if we have to, and you will lead Ravka into an age of peace.”
“I’m not charming.”
“But I am. I have a stockpile of wiles to deploy on Ravka’s behalf.”
“Dinners and parades and small talk. That sounds like hell.”
“I’ll rub your feet every night.”
What was he offering her? He was smiling but she could sense the caution in him too, a wariness she recognized. She’d promised herself she would speak her heart when she had the chance, but now that she was here, in this quiet room, with Nikolai before her, she had never been so frightened in her life.
“There’s a mural in my room,” she said hesitantly, unsure of what she meant to say, afraid of the words that might come. “A stormy sea. A boat. A flag with two stars. Did you ever wonder—”
“What they mean? Only when I thought of your bedchamber. So, roughly every night.”
“Can you be serious for once?”
“Once and only once.”
“Those stars are me and my aunt. Liliyana. She was the bravest woman I ever knew and she … she fought for me, when no one else would, without any weapon. She was a woman with no status or wealth, but she risked her own life to protect me. She thought I was worth saving. She thought … She thought I was worth loving.” When Liliyana’s star was gone, Zoya had believed she would reckon with that stormy sea on her own, forever. That if she was lucky enough to be loved by one person in this life, that should be enough. Or that was what she’d told herself. “I can’t do this alone, Nikolai.”
“I will be by your side.”
“As my adviser?”
“If that’s what you wish.”
She didn’t want to ask. Her pride forbade it. But her damn pride had cost her enough. She looked away. “And if … if I wished for more?”
She felt his fingers on her chin, turning her head. There was an unwanted ache in her throat. Zoya forced herself to meet his gaze. In this light, his hazel eyes looked almost golden.
“Then I would gladly be your prince, your consort, your demon fool.”
“You will grow to hate me. I’m too sharp. Too angry. Too spiteful.”
“You are all of those things, but you are so much more, Zoya. Our people will come to love you not despite your ferocity, but because of it. Because you showed mercy in our darkest hour. Because we know that if danger comes again, you will never falter. Give us that chance.”
Love. The word was not made for people like her. “I don’t know how to believe you,” she said helplessly.