[ it rings with hollow victory. the defeat that lines her shoulders remains, as though she doesn't dare to hope that this marks the end of pushing and pulling one another in every direction until they inevitably crumble to dust. but it doesn't feel wholly like a loss, either, no matter the hand of despair squeezing her heart in its palm. it strikes her as a truce, instead, a negotiation that's more difficult to navigate than any civil political dispute they've encountered. ]
Then at least we'll know that we tried. [ at least she will never doubt that she had clawed and struggled and bled for a love that deserves no less than someone to fight for it. even if it culminates in her destruction, perhaps it's a love worthy ruining herself for, if only to avoid living with her regrets for centuries. ] At least I won't wonder what we could have been if I had stayed.
[ the edge to her laugh is strained and quiet, a bubbling hiccup of a sound she can't prepare for, as her fingertips glide over the smooth silk of his sash. not for the first time, she envies nikolai's ability to present himself as he wishes to be seen. in contrast, she's too aware of the sight she must be, swiping at red-rimmed eyes to cleanse any evidence that she could be anything less than an ideal candidate for queen. the delegates beyond the doors of their library will be able to scent any sign of weakness like sharks pursuing blood in the water.
the last of what she needs — what ravka needs — is to pick apart their engagement to find fault with it, and wonder if the stability and morale it offers is an illusion. she tries to steady her breath, having come this close to losing him in one night, and idly sweeps her fingers through the glittering gold of his hair. ]
I learned from the best. [ no one risks crashing and burning quite like nikolai lantsov. if they can change the course of ravka's future, she can cling to her hope that they can pave their own way to another destination. she smiles, a subdued and harmlessly teasing sheen to it. ] I'll just be annoyingly stubborn about it until you say yes. I've learned that from you, too.
[ carefully, she slips her aching feet into the treacherous confines of her shoes. before he can raise himself to his feet, she grasps at the heavy fabric around her legs, moving it aside to gingerly settle into his lap, twining her arms around his neck. ]
You're going to have to carry me back. These shoes are a special kind of torture. Or — [ it's wishful thinking, but she murmurs it against his cheek, pressing her lips to the sloping bone. ] — maybe we can just hope that they're drunk enough that they won't even notice we're missing.
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Then at least we'll know that we tried. [ at least she will never doubt that she had clawed and struggled and bled for a love that deserves no less than someone to fight for it. even if it culminates in her destruction, perhaps it's a love worthy ruining herself for, if only to avoid living with her regrets for centuries. ] At least I won't wonder what we could have been if I had stayed.
[ the edge to her laugh is strained and quiet, a bubbling hiccup of a sound she can't prepare for, as her fingertips glide over the smooth silk of his sash. not for the first time, she envies nikolai's ability to present himself as he wishes to be seen. in contrast, she's too aware of the sight she must be, swiping at red-rimmed eyes to cleanse any evidence that she could be anything less than an ideal candidate for queen. the delegates beyond the doors of their library will be able to scent any sign of weakness like sharks pursuing blood in the water.
the last of what she needs — what ravka needs — is to pick apart their engagement to find fault with it, and wonder if the stability and morale it offers is an illusion. she tries to steady her breath, having come this close to losing him in one night, and idly sweeps her fingers through the glittering gold of his hair. ]
I learned from the best. [ no one risks crashing and burning quite like nikolai lantsov. if they can change the course of ravka's future, she can cling to her hope that they can pave their own way to another destination. she smiles, a subdued and harmlessly teasing sheen to it. ] I'll just be annoyingly stubborn about it until you say yes. I've learned that from you, too.
[ carefully, she slips her aching feet into the treacherous confines of her shoes. before he can raise himself to his feet, she grasps at the heavy fabric around her legs, moving it aside to gingerly settle into his lap, twining her arms around his neck. ]
You're going to have to carry me back. These shoes are a special kind of torture. Or — [ it's wishful thinking, but she murmurs it against his cheek, pressing her lips to the sloping bone. ] — maybe we can just hope that they're drunk enough that they won't even notice we're missing.