[ she could laugh at the sheer absurdity of it — nikolai rushing them to the altar when he can scarcely stand to touch her for longer than a few fleeting seconds. once he's dropped their joined hands, her fingers flutter away, absently spanning the cold, curling antlers dangling from her throat. it seems to tighten in his presence, seems to vibrate beneath her fingers. startled, they slip away, settling in her lap.

the scars hardly matter. they dig deeper than what is only skin-deep, embedded in the very soul of her. ]

Long enough. Before we had even met.

[ perhaps that's only another betrayal to be tallied on a growing list. another secret she has stowed away, as though refusing to bring it into the space between them would keep their shared moments safe. sacred. unstained by the darkling. a foolish and futile endeavor, fueled only by her hope. it's a greater madness, to tie their lives together when there is so little they know of one another.

those quiet, stolen hours in his bed are a faraway, distant dream — as if haze of that memory belongs to another girl. she rises, propping the jacket onto the table before her, and turns to slip the edge of her shirt down — down further, baring the curve of her shoulder. the mark is still there, the imprint of monstrous teeth embedded into the skin — tinged with circles of black. ]

I'm not a hero, and I'm no saint. [ as he's pointed out, however he had intended it. like calls to like. she goes silent, pulling away to face him, once the weight of eyes becomes too much. ] You won't make me a pawn in whatever story you're selling to Ravka, either.