[ it's an answer he more or less expected, a reminder of what he already knows — she doesn't want this, not really. no sane person would willingly offer themselves to become this kind of symbol, and no promise of riches or royalty could make it worth it. in moments like these he hardly feels any better than the darkling, because in the end he's using her all the same, just wrapped up in a far kinder box.

maybe it would be better to marry a royal stranger bred for this sort of life, to let go of his fanciful notions of love or happiness or even just the possibility of either one, no matter how improbable. he could arrange it, somehow, for alina and mal to go into hiding, to disappear and never be heard of again, to try and find a way to defeat the darkling without her, but those chances are so tragically small, and he can't put the well-being of a single individual over the needs of his entire country.

would that change if they were to wed, if alina became his queen? would her needs somehow hold more weight then or is he damning her to a life where no one will ever put her first? she'll become just like him, personal desires brushed to the side over and over again until they're as good as forgotten. ravka will own her just as it owns him.

the airy touch of her fingers brings him back to the moment, his dim smile falling short of reaching his eyes. ]

The fish would still talk. I am the center of attention everywhere I go.

[ his fingers slow, soft strands escaping his grip. he shouldn't say it. he shouldn't, and yet — ]

I would let you go. [ he rarely thinks himself a fool, but in this moment it's never been more clear. ] If I could do anything attainable, anything without having to watch everyone else suffer the ramifications of my actions... I would let you go far away and find peace for yourself. I wouldn't damn you to the same life I was bred to live.