CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Saints

     Her heart boomed in her chest, sounding right next to her ear. Her room was dark, except for the moonlight streaming through the singular window.

The door opened. A head of golden curls peeked in, hazel eyes quickly finding Estelle's rapidly breathing figure in her bed. She pulled her covers closer to her body.

Nikolai stepped in quietly and closed the door behind him. He was in a robe, one of the silky orange ones. It wasn't a bright orange, more of a yellow-orange so light it would look like it was white from a distance.

"Did I wake anyone?"

He cringed, walking closer to her. "Nearly the whole wing. Same nightmares?"

The rose with broken petals. The boy with blood. She nodded, not trusting her own voice.

"Would you...would you like to take a walk with me?"

Estelle glanced up at him again. "Where?"

He merely shrugged. "Anywhere we want. Preferably away from prying eyes, just in case rumors begin to spread."

"That's what they do," she joked.

"Yes, but as prince and Star Summoner, I doubt they would be good ones." Nikolai held out his hand to her. "Just for tonight, indulge me."

She glanced at his hand, his fingers outstretched. They were calloused from his years on the sea as a privateer, but still somehow perfect. Estelle decided to place hers in his hand. What could be the harm?

—

They walked through the gardens, as her room was the only occupied one overlooking them, it so turned out. The flowers smelled sweet, much sweeter than her earlier visit, the ones that had been interrupted by Nikolai's older brother.

While Estelle walked slowly, savoring the very well-tended garden, Nikolai found it hard to stand quite so still. He was often many paces in front of her, explaining how he'd used to come out and smell the roses as a child to help him relax, or how he once uprooted an entire family of tulips to get his father to pay attention to him.

Meanwhile, Estelle listened half-heartedly, her mind replaying her nightmare over and over again. The dying boy. The blood as red as the roses in the garden.

"Estelle, did you hear me?"

She jolted back to the present, the darkened bushes and the sweet flowers. Nikolai stared at her from not too far away, he must have moved closer once he realized she wasn't listening to his latest story from his journey with Alina.

"Of course I did," Estelle said with a forced smile.

He frowned skeptically. "Really?"

"Yes."

"What did I say, then?"

She paused. "Alina...screwing up?"

Nikolai laughed, the sound filling the silence among chipping bugs and whistling wind. "It was actually quite the opposite. Shocking, I know." Then, his gaze turned concerning. "Are you alright? I know you don't like talking about the nightmares, but—"

"And you're right," she interrupted. But, after a moment, Estelle sighed. "But I should."

"Finally, you listen to my advice."

She glared at him and he gave her a grin in return.

"I'm opening up to you, and you're about to ruin it. Please, just this once, get rid of the snarky responses," she begged. He said nothing in return. "Thank you."

Estelle took a deep breath, turning away from him to stare at the star-littered sky. The moon shone down beams, illuminating the branches of the garden, almost as if strengthening Estelle for the next words that were going to come out of her mouth.

"I...killed a boy, with the intent to kill his father. I might have backed out last minute, but I still meant to end him, right then, right there." She swallowed, her voice shaky. "Every night after, I see him. The boy, I mean."

"What do you see?"

"Memories. The same events that happened, but I can't do anything to change it. Then, when I go over to him, he speaks to me." Estelle was crying. When did that happen? "He tells me that it was all my fault. That I took an innocent life. I'm going to burn for my sins."

Arms folded around her, her blurry vision barely recognizing Nikolai's figure before she buried her face in his chest, not caring about the tears that soaked his robe.

The way she'd grown up, how she was to spend her life after death was what determined her entire life. The Saints had to smile down on her in favor for her to be comfortable in the next life—or whatever afterlife was waiting for her. She'd listened to stories—horrible, ugly tales of what would happen if their favor wasn't in her direction. As a child, that directed her mindset for the rest of her life.

Then...this happened.

Those fears were becoming alive, controlling her sleep. She couldn't rest without worrying about what she'd see when she entered the dream world. She rarely slept well, even if her dreams weren't plagued with the prophecies she dreaded.

And yet, she didn't want it to go away. She thought she deserved it, after everything she'd done. She caused pain everywhere she went. This was fair compensation, whether it was of her own mind's doing or the Saints.

Estelle didn't realize she'd been voicing these plaguing thoughts until the soothing whispers of Nikolai registered in her mind. Reassuring things like, "I've got you," "You deserve the world," "You're amazing and this is an unnecessary pain given to you," and "Don't worry, love, it will all be okay."

Then... "Estelle, please look at me."

Slowly, she lifted her head and sniffled, her face surely wet, puffy, and red. She wished he would stop looking at her with such intensity that he usually did.

"Saints, you're beautiful," Nikolai breathed, a hand reaching up to rest under her chin, preventing her from looking away. In the moonlight, he looked like a Saint himself, the light almost crowning him, his cheekbones illuminated and his usual arrogant smirk replaced with a soft smile.

Estelle's lips parted just looking at him. Her heart fluttered. "Have you seen yourself?" she managed to quip.

He chuckled softly, his chest rumbling with laughter and vibrating against Estelle's own chest. They were so close. Estelle wanted to think it was too close. But part of her wanted to be selfish, just this once.

"I have indeed," Nikolai answered. For a second, she'd forgotten what they were talking about. "However, you're on a completely different mountain than I. Everything about you. And I mean everything. The good and the bad. Like a saint of my own."

She frowned. "I'm hardly—"

"Saints aren't perfect," he interrupted her, his eyes filled with something she couldn't quite figure out. "They never were. But you...you most certainly are."

His hazel eyes darted to her lips, lingering for a second before returning to meet her eyes. She didn't move, for fear of...well, she didn't know what. Losing him? Saying something wrong? Doing something wrong?

Without another wasted moment, his lips were on hers. She remembered the feeling like it was yesterday. Heart bursting, mind blank, the only thought was him.

Until another occured.

She pulled away quickly, trying to catch her escaped breath. Hurt tainted Nikolai's face. Yet he still kept her in his arms.

"We can't, Nikolai."

His frown deepened. "Why not? It's perfect, in all aspects. We are perfect, the union between a future king and a Star Summoner is perfect. What's wrong?"

"We did this before, don't you remember?" She searched his eyes for any memory of that night. "It was a mistake, we agreed on that."

"It was a mistake because neither of us were sober," Nikolai countered, his arms tightening, refusing to let her go. "I would have liked to remember all of that night, not just the beginning and morning after."

She let out a breath and peeled herself away, turning her back to him. "This is exactly why. It shouldn't have happened, it shouldn't happen now. You've got a country to run, I have a Darkling to kill and a past to come to terms with. It's just...not a good time."

A pause before he spoke again, hesitantly. "But...it will happen?"

Estelle spun on her heel. "No, Nikolai. After this is over, I promised I would come back home again. We can't do this if we're days of travel away. It can't happen. And it won't."

Nikolai swallowed and stepped back, folding his hands behind his back. He tried to hide his hurt, but he was mostly unsuccessful. Estelle hoped she was doing better than him.

"You're right."

She nodded, crossing her arms across her chest to ward off the cold and the growing ache in her heart. It surely wouldn't work, but there was no harm in trying.

"I will accept your job offer, if you're still offering, for the good of Ravka," she amended. "Our relationship will be strictly professional, until the Darkling problem is dealt with, then we shall part ways."

Nikolai stared at her for a moment, then nodded once. "Of course."

"Of course."

With nothing more than a bow to the prince, Estelle turned again and quickened her pace to leave the garden. She was eager to get away from the very person who was causing her incoming tears.

"Estelle?"

She paused, but didn't look back. "Yes?"

"Sweet dreams."

Her heart swelled again, but Estelle ignored it and only turned her head to the side, so he could see half of her face. "Thank you. You as well."

Then she left him. Both heartbroken, each wondering how much it truly hurt the other. Because, surely, they couldn't really have that much of an effect on the other's life.

History repeating itself.

Twice, it was simply the right person, only the wrong time.

a/n— I cried writing this, so, sorry. <3