[ As they pass by the man, Anahid punctuates Nikolai's given nod with a smile of her own. The gentleman's eyebrows twitch a little, but he nods back and keeps walking without pause. ]
That's very kind of you, but I think I've reached the logical conclusion of your generosity.
[ (In the distant background, Nikolai might hear, "where do you think she's taking him?" — followed by, "it wouldn't be the king's first tryst, would it? Let him get it out of his sytem before he's wed," in reply.
Anahid doesn't hear any of this; and even if she did, the non-Os Alta regional accents might make the discreetly muttered Ravkan incomprehensible to her.) ]
[ Hm. Yes. His "generosity". One day, Nikolai will think before he acts and see how far the ripples go before tossing a stone into a pond.
Despite being tempted to glance over his shoulder to see if he can intimidate gossip from sparking with just a look, he knows from experience it'll only fuel it. Nikolai might have been oblivious to how Alexander III treated those around him, but he wasn't blind to how the rumours tended to circulate. He'll figure it all out later.
Saints, he misses Ketterdam.
Never mind that. Rather than continue straight along the never-ending corridor, he nudges the small of her back and makes a left. They're about to approach a dead end, but Nikolai stops and opens a door that looks like it hasn't been opened in a while. Glancing toward the end of the hallway to where they've come, he smirks and opens the door, gesturing for her to go inside.
It leads into a small linen closet with blankets and towels neatly lined on the shelves. Nikolai removes himself from her side as he approaches the back and pushes at the groaning, croaking wooden shelves to reveal a door that opens inward.
Looking back at her with a mischievous glint in his eye, ] I've always loved the rumours about castles that exaggerate the secret passageways. They were always my favourite to discover.
[ The warmth of his touch lingers even after he moves his hand away. He's guided her to a linen cupboard, of all places; her chin begins to rise with suspicion, until he makes a show of opening the walls themselves for her. ]
That may be the least surprising thing I've ever learned about you.
[ Nikolai.
Nope, still can't bring herself to do it so casually. ]
Is it safe to — [ She gestures. Once he gives the go ahead, she'll sidle past him and into the passage. If the cobwebs decorating the corners are any indication, it's not utilised terribly often. ]
I found them when exploring. Sometimes, a friend and I would pretend we were explorers from the stories. Very rarely did my brother play with me and insist I hide. He never bothered to find me.
[ He shrugs. That sounds so pathetically depressing, but Nikolai knows now that Vasily never had a childish bone in his body. He was always so dry, even as a child. That time was spent exploring, pretending to be a pirate seeking buried treasure. It let Nikolai learn the ins and outs of the castle, and find things that he otherwise would never know about. Vasily did him a favour by being so unkind.
Nikolai ensures to walk behind her, ready to step in front if need be. The corridor's decorated with cobwebs, but it's lit well enough from the cracks in the stone and a sheet of light up ahead. ]
If you go left, it leads toward the grounds. We need to go right. I promise there are no skeletons ready to pounce at you at this end of the castle.
[ Every time he speaks, it's with a smile and his voice is twisted with amusement. If only he were a pirate. ]
[ Drawing in a breath, Anahid refuses to think about the small shadow she saw skittering high up on the passage walls, and starts to walk. The corridor is musty and cramped, although not to the point that their movement is restricted.
After a few seconds, she says, ]
It's... still strange to me that you have so much - فضای خالی, [ empty space, for all she still doesn't know what words to use in his language, ] you can fill it with hallways that no one uses. In Bezim, a narrow townhouse is considered a status symbol of great wealth.
[ Something brushes against her foot before scampering on. Anahid doesn't scream, of course, but she does stiffen briefly and reach, unthinking, for his hand. ]
[ Nikolai lets her take his hand, wrapping his fingers around her own in what he hopes is a touch of comfort.
He can understand what she couldn't translate into Ravkan from what she says. Despite Ravka being beyond bankruptcy, it's spacious. It's the one thing he always appreciated about his home; he likes wandering and finding himself somewhere new. Ketterdam, for its advantages, was cramped, with very little room to get lost within. There were so many dead ends, too. ]
My family has always valued holding more in their hands than they could manage.
[ It's the sign of wealth, in all honesty. Nikolai doesn't like it, but he can only focus on one big problem at a time. The empty coffers need to be filled before he can even think of how he can make Os Alta more hospitable and less wasteful.
The corridor is bright as the sun streaks across the large, uneven stones as they take the right. A row of thin grates line along the top of the opposite wall, letting the sunlight in. ]
Your house sounds lovely. I bet it feels more personal than this… and it doesn't have rats by the name of Anton running about like he owns the place.
If you truly named all the rats Anton, no wonder they're acting out. You've given them a crisis of identity.
[ She hadn't even fully realised she'd reached for him until she feels his solid, assuring grip; and although it might be unwise, she has no intention of letting go. It's fine here. No one but The Anton Rat Collective can see them. (Hopefully they don't get any ideas and try to organise into a bloody revolutionary coup. But what is the likelihood of that happening in Fantasy Russia Analogue?)
A few more steps, and they come to another fork. Despite a fleeting desire to continue right and see what happens, Anahid pauses to give him time to direct her. ]
[ At any other time, Nikolai would be tempted to encourage her to go right rather than left, but given Radomir's unkindness, he doesn't wish to delay giving him an earful if he can help it. ]
Left for the library.
[ He's gentle as he tugs her along. The corridor's wide enough to fit two people and a full burlap sack hanging over one's shoulder, but it's still a cramped space. ]
You know, when you entered these secret tunnels, you swore an unbreakable oath. You can't tell your friend about this.
Drawn and quartering. A horrible beheading. Having to listen to Tolya's poetry for twenty-four hours straight.
[ Anahid may not know Tolya well enough to know that being subjected to his poetry is the worst of the bunch. Perhaps he'll let her discover that on her own.
Following a bend, Nikolai makes no effort to hurry. The library's close by. The wind whips at the grates and there's loud noise as voices argue beyond one of the walls. He doesn't stop to press his ear against the stone, not like how he would when wishing to take a few moments to simply be Nikolai without his titles. ]
Only one is a punishment I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, and the other two make for fun party entertainment.
You'll understand if I avoid his Majesty's parties, I find poetry dreadfully dull and can't abide blood on the rugs.
[ As more light shines in from outside, the library comes within reach. The musty smell of the half-abandoned passage changes to much more academic scents — paper halfway to ancient, leather bindings, and sandalwood. A few more steps and they'll be able to exit through a lightly wrought shelf, purposefully filled with periodicals and reference pamphlets rather than heavy books, and emerge mere feet away from the archivist's office.
Although she doesn't plan on it, Anahid finds herself slowing down. Nikolai will feel a tug at his hand as her altered pace pulls her arm taut. ]
Perhaps, um —
[ A breath, and then: ]
Perhaps I ought to just let this go.
[ A bit more sober now, and closer to the point of no return, she finds her courage wavering a bit. Does she really want to potentially make an enemy when she has at least six more weeks in Ravka? ]
[ Nikolai eventually stops and turns to face her. ]
You're welcome to let it go.
[ And she can if she wants to. Nikolai remembers that uncertainty in the face of seeing someone reprimanded for doing the wrong thing. One never knew how the cards would fall. He knows better than anyone that despite his status as a prince, his behaviour often overshadowed the little crown he wore on his head. It's taken some time for him to outgrow his fear of the wind blowing in the wrong direction.
But he's not a young prince anymore, scolded for his adventure and alleged misbehaving. He's the King of Ravka. He can set the rules. ]
But I won't. I don't tolerate such things. [ He shakes his head. ] Not in my country, and certainly not in my home. We can take the next exit that isn't to the library if you prefer, but I'll be having a word with Radomir about what makes hands unsullied in Os Alta.
[ In the face of his certainty, her heart starts to beat a little strangely. Not any faster; merely with a different tempo, a bit higher up toward her throat. It's a wonder that he can hold her hand and not feel it in her pulse. ]
... alright.
[ At the very least, if she sees the conversation, then she'll know what words to use next time. So Nikolai doesn't have to fight another battle on her behalf. ]
Thank you, N— [ They're not in a balloon anymore, miles above any prying ears, so the intended word fades away after a single clicked out syllable. Even in a half-abandoned corridor, it feels wrong somehow. Maybe sullied hands is still bouncing around in her head. ] — Your Majesty.
[ Perhaps she'll find his name less difficult to say aloud one day, but he doesn't press it.
Instead, he leads them a little further along the corridor to a wooden door. He's slow to open it with his free hand, the hinges creaking as he does so. The library is brighter than the secret passageway, and perhaps sunnier than any other room in the Grand Palace. It used to be his favourite place to get lost in, until he realised the stories were his preferred escape.
The door opens to an aisle in the back of the large library. The spines are of various sizes, heights and colours; no cobwebs hang on the shelves, not even from the top of the highest corner. He leads her down a long aisle, and when they near the end, he lets her hand fall away like a feather. It's for her sake more than for his. Even though Radomir is the only person most likely to be in the library, he doesn't wish to risk those whispers being woven into thicker rumours.
The less he gives him, the better.
He leads them to the archivist's office. The door's open, ensuring he has one less task ahead of him. Radomir's a tall man with long, skeletal fingers and a neatly trimmed beard. Radomir's studying a thick book with bent corners; he lifts his head, thick brows raised, and that painfully fake smile in place. He's never liked Nikolai, much preferring Vasily and his lack of care. ]
Moi tsar. [ Radomir bows his head before lifting his dark, studious eyes back up. The smile that would fool anyone else tenses when his eyes dart to see Anahid. ]
I hear you turned away some of our guests. [ Nikolai clasps his hands before him and furrows his brows to appear confused. ] I didn't realise the library was closed. I thought I would have received a missive of the sort.
[ Radomir doesn't look overly anxious, but the tension in his shoulders is present and sharp. His gaze darts back to Anahid. ]
Excuse my manners. This is Anahid Joddani. [ He turns to her with a smile. ] A guest. [ He looks back at Radomir. ] One very welcomed by all of Ravka. She has very nice hands, don't you think?
[ Standing in Radomir's imposing presence, Anahid is suddenly very aware of the layer of dried mud still coating the hem of her dress and that she's very noticeably still wearing the king's coat. Judging from the way Radomir's eyes sweep over her, he notices these things too. She draws herself up regardless, refusing to be so cowed. ]
I regret that we were unable to be properly introduced earlier, sir. The care you put into curating the library is admirable.
[ It's a bit of a dance, this showing of guileless etiquette. Fortunately, it's one Anahid can do at the drop of a hat.
Radomir isn't impressed, though. His lip curls with barely concealed distaste at her accented Ravkan. He manages a curt nod and nothing more, swinging his gaze to Nikolai and speaking in flawless Zemeni. ]
May I have a word with you, moi Tsar? [ With all the subtlety of a million zebras crashing in through the ceiling, his darkened gaze briefly skims over Anahid's head. ] In private?
[ In the face of all this, Anahid finds herself wishing for the return of Mikhail and his warm, welcoming manner. Mikhail should run the library. Mikhail should be crowned queen of Ravka. Mikhail should be given every promotion, she thinks, for the simple act of human decency of not looking at her like she's a squashed bug caught under heel. ]
[ Nikolai smiles, but it's not the smile he's worn during most of his interactions with Anahid. It's sharp, not quite as soft in its curve. This is King Nikolai. Nikolai Nothing, as Vasily would say. ]
We're having a word now. And anything we speak of, we can speak in front of our guest. I wouldn't wish to be rude.
[ He wrinkles his nose slightly, but Nikolai stares at Radomir for a moment before he shakes his head and feigns boyish ignorance. Best not to give him too much of an opportunity to plead a decent case for privacy. Nikolai is nothing if not an energetic, talkative tornado; he embraces that characterisation of himself now. ]
Forgive me, since I haven't come to the library as often as I'd like. But our library is open to the public, isn't it?
[ Radomir, for all of his experience in politics, isn't quite skilled in softening his expression. He's so used to sitting behind a king and king-to-be who would shield him from such embarrassments. Nikolai imagines this could have repercussions for him later down the line, but Radomir is a man with some sway over a few of the nobles and other high positioned staff. Nikolai's a Lantsov, and a likeable one at that. ]
It is.
That means it's open to Ravkans, Kerch, and Suli alike, doesn't it?
[ Radomir's smile is as sharp as one of Tolya's blades. His eyes dart toward Anahid, but ever so quickly. Nikolai would've missed it if he blinked. ]
It is.
Oh, good. [ Nikolai smiles widely then, but it still isn't the casual, easy bright smile he's worn today. He almost bounces on the balls of his feet. ] Then that means Anahid and her friend are welcome into the library at any time. I was a bit concerned, since I had heard otherwise.
[ Radomir glances at Anahid before he looks back at Nikolai. The tension still lines his mouth and shoulders, his jaw works hard like he's trying to break all his teeth. ]
You are correct.
Excellent. [ He turns briefly to Anahid before facing Radomir again. ] I'm glad they'll be able to enjoy the library. You'll make sure they're taken care of, won't you? They're very esteemed guests.
[ He knows he's pushing it. Perhaps he could've taken a better approach, maybe left Anahid out of it all… but it feels good to embarrass someone like Radomir, who used to speak down to him when he was a lanky boy who wouldn't stop growing and sneaking into the library to get lost in a life more wonderful than his.
But he's the fucking king, and he can do as he likes. ]
[ Despite Radomir's attempt to exclude her from the conversation by switching to a language she doesn't speak a word of, Nikolai's steadfast Ravkan means she can follow well enough; although the redundancies trip her up a bit. It takes some lightning-quick mental translation to realise they're purposeful. Nikolai means to drive his point home with a spike. At his side, she does her best to remain silent and severe. Her eyes drill, barely blinking, into a point just above Radomir's eyebrows.
Doubtless this will only fan the flames of speculation about their relationship. Anahid doesn't know enough yet to be cognisant of that. She's still viewing Ravka's relative social liberty through rose-tinted glass.
When Radomir turns his gaze toward her, she fixes her shoulders into a stalwart arc. Expecting a fight, possibly. ]
Is there anything I can assist you with presently, madam?
Azata. [ Her correction is quick and clipped. ] I'd quite like some references for the Kerch language, if you could fetch them. [ And for Siyon - ] And a biography on Sankta Grigori. Thank you.
[ Radomir pauses for a moment, eyes sliding back to Nikolai.
[ Backing away with half a bow, Radomir disappears into the stacks surrounding his office; and Anahid's severity melts into a grin that she directs at Nikolai. ]
He may well perform an operatic solo at your next state dinner if you press him any further.
[ Radomir returns promptly with an armful of books. Anahid gives them a cursory inspection. ]
This is a book of Kerch poetry? I won't be needing that. You may put it back. A book on star movements instead, please.
[ A blue vein beats mightily at Radomir's temple, long fingers digging just so into the spine of the rejected book of verses. He might have been leading into a sigh, but all he says is, ] Of course... Azata. [ The foreign honourific is all but choked out.
He vanishes again, and Anahid's lips twitch with suppressed laughter. ]
How long do you think I can keep this up?
[ She is still slightly drunk, after all. Nikolai might want to be the adult now. ]
[ Nikolai steps forward and helps himself to a neat pile of books at the top corner of Radomir's desk. Picking up the first one, he turns it over before declaring it uninteresting and replaces it with the second one. It's a book about mechanical engineering; its hardcover is a deep red that looks almost brown, and the corners of the book are worn and bent. ]
But you might not wish to push him any further. Radomir has quite the bite when he finds he has the upper hand. [ He looks at her, smile lopsided. ] And he'll gain the upper hand. He's slippery like that.
[ Radomir returns, his expression pinched and aggravated, but he does his best to perform as a servant of the crown—and one happy to do so. He returns with a thin book the size of Nikolai's forearm and another book as thick as his leg and as small as his palm. ]
Your books… Azata.
[ Radomir holds them out for her to take and inspect. Nikolai keeps his book in his hand as he peers and inspects the titles. ]
Ah. The small one has pretty pictures. I remember that one.
[ Radomir's smile is a grimace. It's clear he's not quite fond of Nikolai the Just. ]
Thank you, Radomir. [ And I address you by name because I am your social superior. ] We won't take up any more of your time. If you will excuse us.
[ Cooler heads, not swimming with drink, have clearly prevailed. With no less than five books of varying size and weight in her arms, she exits the office - unhurried, the pace of a woman who is both unafraid and knows wherever she goes next waits at her leisure.
Hopefully Nikolai catches up. The library is quite vast and Anahid has no idea where any of the exits are. ]
[ As Anahid leaves, Nikolai lingers. He has no desire to speak to Radomir. Even if he wanted to, it's more fun to upset than to appease him. The vein at his temple is pulsing.
With a pleased grin, Nikolai all but bows as he leaves the office, his one book in hand. It's easy to catch up to Anahid and steer her gently by the elbow to the left. They're not going out the way they came in.
He leads her down a long corridor. At the end is a large door with a fancy golden handle.
[ She opens her mouth to demur; and thinks better of it at the last second. Maybe it's the look on his face. Maybe it's the fact that her arms were beginning to get tired already and she'd only been carrying the books for a couple of minutes. Whatever the reason, they're handed to him. ]
Surely you've reached your quota on chivalry for the day.
[ Nikolai nods toward the door they approach. Somehow, he manages to balance six books (some quite heavy, Saints) and open the heavy door, cocking his head to the side as an invitation for her to step out before him.
He lets it slam behind them, echoing along the corridor as he leads them right. ]
All other doors will need to be opened by you. [ He shrugs, grinning. ] I'm out of chivalry. I don't even have any to spare. [ Without much of a breath: ] Why stars?
[ With Tehroun, and keep them both out of her hair for a night.
As they walk down the corridor, Anahid smiles politely a couple passing by in the opposite direction. Their glances in reply are curiously quizzical; she chalks it up to the same sort of unfriendliness that Radomir had so wilfully exhibited.
The next door, she opens herself, and gestures for him to step out ahead of her. It's quite a bit darker out now than it had been when they were finishing up their dinner. The moon hangs low and bright, overpowering what little candlelight shines out from glossy windows, and Anahid finds herself noticing that his eyes are even brighter now.
Which is a totally normal thing for one friend to notice about another, of course. ]
Who is a completely kind man, if a little intense at times. Nikolai's not quite sure what to make of him other than he's the sort that probably takes things said a little too literally and has very little time for games.
Perhaps that's why he likes Anahid's company best. She encourages his mischief more than he thinks her husband would. He seems so serious, so literal.
Now outside, Nikolai finds his sight hasn't changed one bit. He doesn't think about why he can see through the darkness as though Alina Starkov stands beside him, brightening the world around them. ]
How is he finding Os Alta? And you can be honest. It can be a dreadful place at times.
Edited (needed to nikolaify it) 2023-10-09 23:22 (UTC)
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no subject
That's very kind of you, but I think I've reached the logical conclusion of your generosity.
[ (In the distant background, Nikolai might hear, "where do you think she's taking him?" — followed by, "it wouldn't be the king's first tryst, would it? Let him get it out of his sytem before he's wed," in reply.
Anahid doesn't hear any of this; and even if she did, the non-Os Alta regional accents might make the discreetly muttered Ravkan incomprehensible to her.) ]
no subject
Despite being tempted to glance over his shoulder to see if he can intimidate gossip from sparking with just a look, he knows from experience it'll only fuel it. Nikolai might have been oblivious to how Alexander III treated those around him, but he wasn't blind to how the rumours tended to circulate. He'll figure it all out later.
Saints, he misses Ketterdam.
Never mind that. Rather than continue straight along the never-ending corridor, he nudges the small of her back and makes a left. They're about to approach a dead end, but Nikolai stops and opens a door that looks like it hasn't been opened in a while. Glancing toward the end of the hallway to where they've come, he smirks and opens the door, gesturing for her to go inside.
It leads into a small linen closet with blankets and towels neatly lined on the shelves. Nikolai removes himself from her side as he approaches the back and pushes at the groaning, croaking wooden shelves to reveal a door that opens inward.
Looking back at her with a mischievous glint in his eye, ] I've always loved the rumours about castles that exaggerate the secret passageways. They were always my favourite to discover.
no subject
That may be the least surprising thing I've ever learned about you.
[ Nikolai.
Nope, still can't bring herself to do it so casually. ]
Is it safe to — [ She gestures. Once he gives the go ahead, she'll sidle past him and into the passage. If the cobwebs decorating the corners are any indication, it's not utilised terribly often. ]
no subject
[ He shrugs. That sounds so pathetically depressing, but Nikolai knows now that Vasily never had a childish bone in his body. He was always so dry, even as a child. That time was spent exploring, pretending to be a pirate seeking buried treasure. It let Nikolai learn the ins and outs of the castle, and find things that he otherwise would never know about. Vasily did him a favour by being so unkind.
Nikolai ensures to walk behind her, ready to step in front if need be. The corridor's decorated with cobwebs, but it's lit well enough from the cracks in the stone and a sheet of light up ahead. ]
If you go left, it leads toward the grounds. We need to go right. I promise there are no skeletons ready to pounce at you at this end of the castle.
[ Every time he speaks, it's with a smile and his voice is twisted with amusement. If only he were a pirate. ]
no subject
After a few seconds, she says, ]
It's... still strange to me that you have so much - فضای خالی, [ empty space, for all she still doesn't know what words to use in his language, ] you can fill it with hallways that no one uses. In Bezim, a narrow townhouse is considered a status symbol of great wealth.
[ Something brushes against her foot before scampering on. Anahid doesn't scream, of course, but she does stiffen briefly and reach, unthinking, for his hand. ]
Mine has four floors and two whole guest suites.
no subject
He can understand what she couldn't translate into Ravkan from what she says. Despite Ravka being beyond bankruptcy, it's spacious. It's the one thing he always appreciated about his home; he likes wandering and finding himself somewhere new. Ketterdam, for its advantages, was cramped, with very little room to get lost within. There were so many dead ends, too. ]
My family has always valued holding more in their hands than they could manage.
[ It's the sign of wealth, in all honesty. Nikolai doesn't like it, but he can only focus on one big problem at a time. The empty coffers need to be filled before he can even think of how he can make Os Alta more hospitable and less wasteful.
The corridor is bright as the sun streaks across the large, uneven stones as they take the right. A row of thin grates line along the top of the opposite wall, letting the sunlight in. ]
Your house sounds lovely. I bet it feels more personal than this… and it doesn't have rats by the name of Anton running about like he owns the place.
no subject
[ She hadn't even fully realised she'd reached for him until she feels his solid, assuring grip; and although it might be unwise, she has no intention of letting go. It's fine here. No one but The Anton Rat Collective can see them. (Hopefully they don't get any ideas and try to organise into a bloody revolutionary coup. But what is the likelihood of that happening in Fantasy Russia Analogue?)
A few more steps, and they come to another fork. Despite a fleeting desire to continue right and see what happens, Anahid pauses to give him time to direct her. ]
no subject
Left for the library.
[ He's gentle as he tugs her along. The corridor's wide enough to fit two people and a full burlap sack hanging over one's shoulder, but it's still a cramped space. ]
You know, when you entered these secret tunnels, you swore an unbreakable oath. You can't tell your friend about this.
no subject
[ That sounds like the sort of thing Zagiri would have said to her when they were both girls — a perfect, impetuous mix of serious and silly. ]
What would be the punishment for breaking an unbreakable oath?
[ Eyes flicking down to their joined hands for a second, Anahid realises she can think of a few possibilities. ]
no subject
[ Anahid may not know Tolya well enough to know that being subjected to his poetry is the worst of the bunch. Perhaps he'll let her discover that on her own.
Following a bend, Nikolai makes no effort to hurry. The library's close by. The wind whips at the grates and there's loud noise as voices argue beyond one of the walls. He doesn't stop to press his ear against the stone, not like how he would when wishing to take a few moments to simply be Nikolai without his titles. ]
Only one is a punishment I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, and the other two make for fun party entertainment.
no subject
[ As more light shines in from outside, the library comes within reach. The musty smell of the half-abandoned passage changes to much more academic scents — paper halfway to ancient, leather bindings, and sandalwood. A few more steps and they'll be able to exit through a lightly wrought shelf, purposefully filled with periodicals and reference pamphlets rather than heavy books, and emerge mere feet away from the archivist's office.
Although she doesn't plan on it, Anahid finds herself slowing down. Nikolai will feel a tug at his hand as her altered pace pulls her arm taut. ]
Perhaps, um —
[ A breath, and then: ]
Perhaps I ought to just let this go.
[ A bit more sober now, and closer to the point of no return, she finds her courage wavering a bit. Does she really want to potentially make an enemy when she has at least six more weeks in Ravka? ]
no subject
You're welcome to let it go.
[ And she can if she wants to. Nikolai remembers that uncertainty in the face of seeing someone reprimanded for doing the wrong thing. One never knew how the cards would fall. He knows better than anyone that despite his status as a prince, his behaviour often overshadowed the little crown he wore on his head. It's taken some time for him to outgrow his fear of the wind blowing in the wrong direction.
But he's not a young prince anymore, scolded for his adventure and alleged misbehaving. He's the King of Ravka. He can set the rules. ]
But I won't. I don't tolerate such things. [ He shakes his head. ] Not in my country, and certainly not in my home. We can take the next exit that isn't to the library if you prefer, but I'll be having a word with Radomir about what makes hands unsullied in Os Alta.
no subject
... alright.
[ At the very least, if she sees the conversation, then she'll know what words to use next time. So Nikolai doesn't have to fight another battle on her behalf. ]
Thank you, N— [ They're not in a balloon anymore, miles above any prying ears, so the intended word fades away after a single clicked out syllable. Even in a half-abandoned corridor, it feels wrong somehow. Maybe sullied hands is still bouncing around in her head. ] — Your Majesty.
[ Her fingers still cling to his. ]
no subject
Instead, he leads them a little further along the corridor to a wooden door. He's slow to open it with his free hand, the hinges creaking as he does so. The library is brighter than the secret passageway, and perhaps sunnier than any other room in the Grand Palace. It used to be his favourite place to get lost in, until he realised the stories were his preferred escape.
The door opens to an aisle in the back of the large library. The spines are of various sizes, heights and colours; no cobwebs hang on the shelves, not even from the top of the highest corner. He leads her down a long aisle, and when they near the end, he lets her hand fall away like a feather. It's for her sake more than for his. Even though Radomir is the only person most likely to be in the library, he doesn't wish to risk those whispers being woven into thicker rumours.
The less he gives him, the better.
He leads them to the archivist's office. The door's open, ensuring he has one less task ahead of him. Radomir's a tall man with long, skeletal fingers and a neatly trimmed beard. Radomir's studying a thick book with bent corners; he lifts his head, thick brows raised, and that painfully fake smile in place. He's never liked Nikolai, much preferring Vasily and his lack of care. ]
Moi tsar. [ Radomir bows his head before lifting his dark, studious eyes back up. The smile that would fool anyone else tenses when his eyes dart to see Anahid. ]
I hear you turned away some of our guests. [ Nikolai clasps his hands before him and furrows his brows to appear confused. ] I didn't realise the library was closed. I thought I would have received a missive of the sort.
[ Radomir doesn't look overly anxious, but the tension in his shoulders is present and sharp. His gaze darts back to Anahid. ]
Excuse my manners. This is Anahid Joddani. [ He turns to her with a smile. ] A guest. [ He looks back at Radomir. ] One very welcomed by all of Ravka. She has very nice hands, don't you think?
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I regret that we were unable to be properly introduced earlier, sir. The care you put into curating the library is admirable.
[ It's a bit of a dance, this showing of guileless etiquette. Fortunately, it's one Anahid can do at the drop of a hat.
Radomir isn't impressed, though. His lip curls with barely concealed distaste at her accented Ravkan. He manages a curt nod and nothing more, swinging his gaze to Nikolai and speaking in flawless Zemeni. ]
May I have a word with you, moi Tsar? [ With all the subtlety of a million zebras crashing in through the ceiling, his darkened gaze briefly skims over Anahid's head. ] In private?
[ In the face of all this, Anahid finds herself wishing for the return of Mikhail and his warm, welcoming manner. Mikhail should run the library. Mikhail should be crowned queen of Ravka. Mikhail should be given every promotion, she thinks, for the simple act of human decency of not looking at her like she's a squashed bug caught under heel. ]
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We're having a word now. And anything we speak of, we can speak in front of our guest. I wouldn't wish to be rude.
[ He wrinkles his nose slightly, but Nikolai stares at Radomir for a moment before he shakes his head and feigns boyish ignorance. Best not to give him too much of an opportunity to plead a decent case for privacy. Nikolai is nothing if not an energetic, talkative tornado; he embraces that characterisation of himself now. ]
Forgive me, since I haven't come to the library as often as I'd like. But our library is open to the public, isn't it?
[ Radomir, for all of his experience in politics, isn't quite skilled in softening his expression. He's so used to sitting behind a king and king-to-be who would shield him from such embarrassments. Nikolai imagines this could have repercussions for him later down the line, but Radomir is a man with some sway over a few of the nobles and other high positioned staff. Nikolai's a Lantsov, and a likeable one at that. ]
It is.
That means it's open to Ravkans, Kerch, and Suli alike, doesn't it?
[ Radomir's smile is as sharp as one of Tolya's blades. His eyes dart toward Anahid, but ever so quickly. Nikolai would've missed it if he blinked. ]
It is.
Oh, good. [ Nikolai smiles widely then, but it still isn't the casual, easy bright smile he's worn today. He almost bounces on the balls of his feet. ] Then that means Anahid and her friend are welcome into the library at any time. I was a bit concerned, since I had heard otherwise.
[ Radomir glances at Anahid before he looks back at Nikolai. The tension still lines his mouth and shoulders, his jaw works hard like he's trying to break all his teeth. ]
You are correct.
Excellent. [ He turns briefly to Anahid before facing Radomir again. ] I'm glad they'll be able to enjoy the library. You'll make sure they're taken care of, won't you? They're very esteemed guests.
[ He knows he's pushing it. Perhaps he could've taken a better approach, maybe left Anahid out of it all… but it feels good to embarrass someone like Radomir, who used to speak down to him when he was a lanky boy who wouldn't stop growing and sneaking into the library to get lost in a life more wonderful than his.
But he's the fucking king, and he can do as he likes. ]
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Doubtless this will only fan the flames of speculation about their relationship. Anahid doesn't know enough yet to be cognisant of that. She's still viewing Ravka's relative social liberty through rose-tinted glass.
When Radomir turns his gaze toward her, she fixes her shoulders into a stalwart arc. Expecting a fight, possibly. ]
Is there anything I can assist you with presently, madam?
Azata. [ Her correction is quick and clipped. ] I'd quite like some references for the Kerch language, if you could fetch them. [ And for Siyon - ] And a biography on Sankta Grigori. Thank you.
[ Radomir pauses for a moment, eyes sliding back to Nikolai.
Anahid doesn't give him the opportunity. ]
Now, please.
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He may well perform an operatic solo at your next state dinner if you press him any further.
[ Radomir returns promptly with an armful of books. Anahid gives them a cursory inspection. ]
This is a book of Kerch poetry? I won't be needing that. You may put it back. A book on star movements instead, please.
[ A blue vein beats mightily at Radomir's temple, long fingers digging just so into the spine of the rejected book of verses. He might have been leading into a sigh, but all he says is, ] Of course... Azata. [ The foreign honourific is all but choked out.
He vanishes again, and Anahid's lips twitch with suppressed laughter. ]
How long do you think I can keep this up?
[ She is still slightly drunk, after all. Nikolai might want to be the adult now. ]
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[ Nikolai steps forward and helps himself to a neat pile of books at the top corner of Radomir's desk. Picking up the first one, he turns it over before declaring it uninteresting and replaces it with the second one. It's a book about mechanical engineering; its hardcover is a deep red that looks almost brown, and the corners of the book are worn and bent. ]
But you might not wish to push him any further. Radomir has quite the bite when he finds he has the upper hand. [ He looks at her, smile lopsided. ] And he'll gain the upper hand. He's slippery like that.
[ Radomir returns, his expression pinched and aggravated, but he does his best to perform as a servant of the crown—and one happy to do so. He returns with a thin book the size of Nikolai's forearm and another book as thick as his leg and as small as his palm. ]
Your books… Azata.
[ Radomir holds them out for her to take and inspect. Nikolai keeps his book in his hand as he peers and inspects the titles. ]
Ah. The small one has pretty pictures. I remember that one.
[ Radomir's smile is a grimace. It's clear he's not quite fond of Nikolai the Just. ]
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[ Cooler heads, not swimming with drink, have clearly prevailed. With no less than five books of varying size and weight in her arms, she exits the office - unhurried, the pace of a woman who is both unafraid and knows wherever she goes next waits at her leisure.
Hopefully Nikolai catches up. The library is quite vast and Anahid has no idea where any of the exits are. ]
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With a pleased grin, Nikolai all but bows as he leaves the office, his one book in hand. It's easy to catch up to Anahid and steer her gently by the elbow to the left. They're not going out the way they came in.
He leads her down a long corridor. At the end is a large door with a fancy golden handle.
He holds out his hand for the books. ] Azata.
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Surely you've reached your quota on chivalry for the day.
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[ Nikolai nods toward the door they approach. Somehow, he manages to balance six books (some quite heavy, Saints) and open the heavy door, cocking his head to the side as an invitation for her to step out before him.
He lets it slam behind them, echoing along the corridor as he leads them right. ]
All other doors will need to be opened by you. [ He shrugs, grinning. ] I'm out of chivalry. I don't even have any to spare. [ Without much of a breath: ] Why stars?
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[ With Tehroun, and keep them both out of her hair for a night.
As they walk down the corridor, Anahid smiles politely a couple passing by in the opposite direction. Their glances in reply are curiously quizzical; she chalks it up to the same sort of unfriendliness that Radomir had so wilfully exhibited.
The next door, she opens herself, and gestures for him to step out ahead of her. It's quite a bit darker out now than it had been when they were finishing up their dinner. The moon hangs low and bright, overpowering what little candlelight shines out from glossy windows, and Anahid finds herself noticing that his eyes are even brighter now.
Which is a totally normal thing for one friend to notice about another, of course. ]
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Who is a completely kind man, if a little intense at times. Nikolai's not quite sure what to make of him other than he's the sort that probably takes things said a little too literally and has very little time for games.
Perhaps that's why he likes Anahid's company best. She encourages his mischief more than he thinks her husband would. He seems so serious, so literal.
Now outside, Nikolai finds his sight hasn't changed one bit. He doesn't think about why he can see through the darkness as though Alina Starkov stands beside him, brightening the world around them. ]
How is he finding Os Alta? And you can be honest. It can be a dreadful place at times.
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